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Post by Keith the Great on Feb 6, 2010 17:42:45 GMT -5
Mason seemed quite accepting to Keith’s brotherly motion, but unfortunately, Devon’s was anything but. The cold, blank stare gave the hobo the shivers, and he quickly retracted his arm before sidling over to put Mason between himself and Devon. No need to stand close to an angry gun-salesman.
Fortunately, the new conversation was enough to take his mind off the unsuccessful group-hug. Keith could only stare, confused and clueless, as the others went on about ‘carriers’ and ‘susceptible’. For all he know of the subject, it could’ve gone in one ear and out the other.
“Did y’all go crazy?” he asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. “It don’ matter if someone ‘carries’ zombie-ism. Y’ gotta be dead for it ta make any diff’rence.”
---
While the group had centered themselves on their new arrival, Robert had finally begun to drag himself out of unconsciousness. When he first woke up, he closed his eyes and went back to sleep for another minute. The second time, his thoughts had revived enough for him to recall where he was. His eyes shot open in an instant, taking in the area around him; most importantly, he noticed that his victims were all turned away.
He smirked, knowing that silence was golden in this situation. However, he nearly screamed when he tried to stand up: one of the b******s had tied him up! Hell if he knew where they’d gotten the rope (damn WalMart had everything), but that wasn’t what mattered. What mattered was freeing himself and making his escape.
Surprisingly quiet, the boy used his bound feet to scoot backwards behind the shelving. Two shelves down, he stopped and grinned as Wal-Mart’s versatility became his advantage: an entire row of hunting knives lay before him. Using the shelf as a backing, he managed to bounce to his feet and grab a knife behind his back. A minute of determined sawing rid him of the binds.
He tossed the rope aside with a grin and, before they could notice their hostage’s disappearance, sprinted out. He took a moment to sweep the hood of his hoodie off the floor and stuff it in his pocket before running for the window. Covering his face with his arms, he smashed straight through the glass, setting off a whooping alarm that was immediately countered by the roar of a gathering zombie mob.
Robert finally allowed his triumph to break through, cackling like a madman as he dashed away. No way in hell he was sticking around for the show. “Smell ya later, suckahs!” he called back. Arms and legs pumping, he sprinted away towards the food-court, knowing that he could take shelter in his hideout and strike again later. Those s***heads would never see it coming. Just like a real Hunter attack.
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Devon Jameson
New Member
"Anyone need a gun? Flare Gun? BB Gun? Raccoon Gun?"
Posts: 11
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Post by Devon Jameson on Feb 6, 2010 21:50:37 GMT -5
Devon sighed. He never enjoyed being surrounded by people. Hell, he just plain hated being around people in general. However, he would have to make some sort of truce with the group in some way, so he made an attempt to be friendly.
"Gonna go off-topic here... Anyone have any stories? Jokes? Anything?"
With an akward shuffle of his feet, he turned his head past the group of people towards the general area of Robert's previous location. However, an ear-splitting alarm broke his train of thought. Shouting in anger over the noise, he slungs his M16 to his hands.
"Oh, son of a bitch."
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Post by Mason Breaker on Feb 7, 2010 21:38:28 GMT -5
Mason's eyes widened when the loud whooping of the alarm came on. But what really got his attention was the taunt from a very familair, and very aggravating, voice. Robert.
Mason said nothing, but instead rushed past Devon to where they had left the little punk. To his dismay (and frustration), Robert was gone.
"Son OF A BITCH!" Was all Mason yelled before rushing back to the group. It wouldn't be much longer until the Horde got here, and that was something they really didn't need at the moment. As such, he took the initaitive.
"Alright, listen up boyos! We ave' no time to waste! Keith, get that van ready to go! Devon and Tara, go with him! Once it's ready to go, get back in here! Moro and Roy, gather together as many supplies as you can, load em' in carts, bags, I don't care how! I've got something in mind that'll keep a nice part of the Horde busy..... And Roy, if you find that little creep..... Well, seeing as CEDA was here, theres a good chance that there will be bile jars...." It was unusual for Mason to actually suggest something that brutal to another human, but Robert had pushed the Irish man to the limit.
With that said (In Roy's case, suggested), and not really waiting to see if they would actually do it, Mason turned away, hurrying down to the hardware section, looking for one thing in particular. He grinned broadly once he found what he was looking for; A lawnmower. Taking it off the shelf, he made sure that there was gas in it (Why there was, he'd never know), he then attached several pipe-bombs to it. It was time for the exploding lawnmower to make a reapperance.
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Post by Keith the Great on Feb 7, 2010 22:58:29 GMT -5
Keith gave a whoop of joy when he was assigned car-duty. “Hells yeah!” he cheered, snatching a knife from a nearby shelf before making a break for the exit. While a flow of zombies was already trickling in from both within the mall and from outdoors, Keith stuck to the wall and managed to bypass most of the riled-up group entirely. The few oddballs who had gone around and spotted him went down with a couple swift shots from the magnum.
In almost no-time Keith found himself bursting out the front doors, mowing down a few stragglers with his hunting rifle, and making a B-line for the abandoned CEDA van. More excited than a child at the Lil’ Peanut Shooting Gallery, he tested the door (which was mercifully unlocked) and practically dive-rolled into the front seat. (Surprisingly, the van’s seats were quite comfy. Damn scientists got all the good stuff.)
Taking his trust knife, Keith began prying open whatever plastic and metal between him and the wires. In no time flat, he was toying with electronics like it was child’s play, using all his focus to keep from straying off-task and back into the goodol’ days. He couldn’t keep a grin off his face: Mason had said to get back inside once it was ready. There were no specifications on how to get back inside. Keith’d be damned if he did anything but drive the van straight through the front door, park in front of the gun shop, lean out the window, and yell “Get in the van, I have candy!” No if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.
However, he paused in his work when he heard a slowly-approaching growl from another part of the parking lot. “Hey, y’all keep an eye out!” he called out to his two supposed partners-in-crime. “I hear a gangsta, an’ I think it’s a real one this time!”
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Devon Jameson
New Member
"Anyone need a gun? Flare Gun? BB Gun? Raccoon Gun?"
Posts: 11
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Post by Devon Jameson on Feb 8, 2010 19:42:10 GMT -5
Devon's eyes widened as he saw Keith sprint away from them. He growled, bumping Tara's arm with his hand twice before sprinting after the traveling hobo. Attempting to keep up with Keith, his mind traveled away from Tara for a moment as he watched the man slip out the front door. He was stopped in his tracks when the recently dodged group of infected stood in his path.
"Son of a whore." He whispered to himself, raising his M16 to eye level. His finger clicked the trigger. A three-round burst of bullets flew from the barrel of the rifle, landing in an infecteds torso. Not his best idea.
The group's eyes were drawn to him and, with a furrow of his brow, he unleashed a solid spray in the groups direction. With a battle cry, he continued the spray for a few moments before lowering his weapon. Panting, he brought his eyes to the group.
Or, well, what was left of the group.
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Tara Luketic
Junior Member
Witch Hunter and Pack Rat
Posts: 71
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Post by Tara Luketic on Feb 8, 2010 20:03:56 GMT -5
Tara's head snapped up when the alarm suddenly went off, eyes widening as she automatically tore her shotgun from her bag. "WHO THE FUCK SET OFF THE ALARM?!?!" she shouted, anger rising. She still had a slight headache from kissing a pillar with the side of her face, and a horde was not what she needed right now. Tara nodded at Mason as he gave out orders, making sure her gun was full of ammo and that more was within reach in her jacket pocket. "Got it. See ya soon!" she replied quickly.
She ran off after Keith and Devon, cursing at the fact that she was such a slow runner, and came upon Devon as he was spraying the horde with his M16. By the time he'd finished, Tara's mouth was agape, shocked by the carnage the weapon could create. Turning to stare wide-eyed at Devon, she slammed the butt of her shotgun into an infected without even glancing in its direction. "Woah... dude, you have GOT to get me one of those!" she exclaimed excitedly. Turning back to face what remained of this group, Tara fired her shotgun a few times and cleared them out effectively enough.
"Anyway, let's get going. I don't trust Keith alone for more than half a minute," she stated as she reloaded. Giving the shotgun a pump, Tara continued onward, saving ammo by merely bashing in the head of any stray infected she came across along the way.
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Post by Keith the Great on Feb 8, 2010 22:19:10 GMT -5
While Devon and Tara had stopped to deal with the zombies, Keith merely slammed the van door for safety. (He could’ve sworn he heard some pissed-off growling, but it could’ve been his imagination. He had more important things to deal with than zombies.
Speaking of, with the Hunter problem eliminated, Keith continued with his work. Red over yellow, blue to other yellow, slight electrical shock that could’ve been fatal depending on the person (for Keith, it was a little pinprick through his gloves), and soon, the van’s engine was roaring to life.
Not even trying to hold down a cheer of joy, Keith settled himself into the chair, rejoicing in the old feeling of being behind the wheel. He took a moment to investigate all the lights, turn the wheel a bit, and flick on the radio, though all he got was static. Satisfied, he rolled down the window just an inch so he could yell back to his two compadres:
“Van’s runnin’, y’all!” He practically cackled with mad glee, turning on the windshield wipers for kicks. “Either get in th’ van or get outta th’ way!”
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Roy Bivenmeijer
Junior Member
"Because I'm used to killing animals"
Posts: 76
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Post by Roy Bivenmeijer on Feb 8, 2010 22:37:32 GMT -5
One shopping cart, three baskets... that should do it. Trusting moro to grab food and meds, he sprinted back into the gun shop. Knifing a zombie, apparently lying in awit away from the rest of the horde, he piled ammo into one of the three baskets he'd picked up. With the smaller rounds he was violent, throwingg them into the basket at lightning speed. When it came time to load up the more volitile rounds, he was more careful. He even managed to find the incendiary bullet box that was stashed way behind the counter (apparently for "Exclusive Buyers").
From safely behing the counter, he cut down every zombie attempting to get in his way- sometimes literally. At one point three zombies were on the glass display ( must've been some kind of safety glass), and all of them were cut down at the knees. filling a seperate basket with shotgun rounds as he fought, Roy laughed at just how many people in their group preffered it as a weapon. "That's why they get a basket for themselves...
"Those shitheads will never see me coming... just like a real hunter"
Chuckling to himself, Roy watched as the mini-hunter crawled back to his origional hiding place, attempting to scale a shelf to get to a broken out vent. Pulling the .306 back over his shoulder, he attempted to place a shot in the kids knee. He missed narrowly, and watched scornfully as the child escaped. "Have fun with the Zombies, asshole!" Roy sneered, hoping the kid got jumped by a real hunter. Still slightly peeved at missing that shot, Roy proceded to bust up every case in the store and remove the guns, placing them into the shopping cart.
Steering the cart with one hand (which also held a basket of ammo) he made it out just in time to hear keith's sucess and the proclimation of "Either get in th’ van or get outta th’ way!”. "Pop the back! Got guns and shit!" Wastine no time, Roy plowed through the undead with his shopping dart of death, barely sliding past the broken automatic doors to the parking lot.
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Devon Jameson
New Member
"Anyone need a gun? Flare Gun? BB Gun? Raccoon Gun?"
Posts: 11
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Post by Devon Jameson on Feb 10, 2010 18:15:58 GMT -5
Devon jogged after Tara, chuckling to himself as he surveyed the WallMart that was bigger than a Mall.
"This place is like a friggin' MallWart, or something... It's fuckin' huge." He spoke to himself, before stumbling forward. His foot had slammed into a sleeping infected's side. Devon had fallen to the ground. The zombie's eyes snapped open, swiftly turning to stare at Devon as he attempted to stand. The infected's arms were tied down by the strange jacket he wore, strapped to his sides it seemed. With an ear splitting screech, Devon fall to the ground once more.
"Shit, fuck!" Devon screamed, instantly clutching his ears in an attempt to block the sound.
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Post by Mason Breaker on Feb 11, 2010 20:04:29 GMT -5
Mason had just finished his improvised bomb when he heard the scream. It wasn't a Hunter's, a Smoker's, or even a Witch. Truthfully, he didn't recognize it at all! Not wasting any time, he ran towards the source of the noise, finally coming upon Devon on the floor, covering his ears in pain. Next to him was what looked like an Infected in a weird jacket. It was writihing around on the floor, screaming its lungs out.
And the noise was attracting attention. Hoisting his shotgun, he stepped over to the......Screamer, and shot it in the head. With that done, he bent over and hoisted Devon onto his feet. "You'll be fine lad, keep moving!"
Trusting that the salesman would have the good sense to get moving, he continued to the front doors. The Horde was almost upon them, several infected already running straight for Mason. Blowing them away, he started up the lawnmower, then the pipe bombs. The effect was two-fold. The extra noise would literaly bring every Infected in the vicinity to it, and the explosion was twice, no, three times the power of just one pipebomb. As an added bonus, he set the timer for longer, allowing more infected to gather around it.
Mason watched as the lawnmower rolled its way down the parking lot, the oncoming Horde drawn to it like moths to a flame. Even ones from inside the store were rushing out to see the source of the disturbance. The beeping started speeding up, the bombs about to detonate.......
Before the construction worker could count down, the exploding lawnmower went off with a *KABOOOOOM!*. Peices and bits of infected went flying every direction, blood almost raining down in a sense. If there was anything left of the Horde, it was still off in the distance. Because there was nothing left in the lot.
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Post by Keith the Great on Feb 11, 2010 21:23:11 GMT -5
While Devon and Tara attempted to catch up and Roy stood in the way of the van’s epic entrance, Keith had taken a moment to turn on the radio, sit back, and relax. The previous Hunter threat had leapt off through the front door (Keith swore the thing gave him the finger first, though), leaving Keith with little to do but sit back and await his teammates getting the hell out of the van’s path.
That is, until the giant pipe-bomb mower broke up the silence with a boom, coupled with a splattering of gore to rival all the M-rated video-games ever created combined into a big ball of gore and body parts. Keith shrieked in terror for a good five seconds after his windshield got a thick coating of people-pieces. By the time he calmed down, the windshield-wipers had cleaned out most of his view. ‘Thank you, Georgia foresight.’ Keith thought with a sigh, recalling Ellis’ tattoo. (The kid had gotten it while drunk off his a** and claiming that it meant he was “a bad-a** zombie killin’ machine”.)
After a quick push of the button that sent window-cleaner on the windows, Keith was able to see clearly out the window. Tara and Devon, he could see, were still on their way over. Mason had leant a hand, and Keith guessed he was the source of the explosion, too. And Roy...was not in the parking lot, so he must be at the back loading up stuff.
With a growing grin, Keith realized that he could swerve around all the people in front of him and park in front of the gun shop. Granted, there wouldn’t be anyone but Moro there for a good ‘Get in the van I’ve got candy’ line, but at the very least he could drive a bit before Mason kicked him into the back of the van and tied him up like a kid who thought he was a Hunter.
Keith revved up the engine a couple times, grinned as wide as he could, then preteneded he was Jimmy Gibbs Jr. and floored it.
The van lurched forward, then gained speed and went for the front door. All the glass that was left imploded inwards as the van burst through the front door like a flaming throwing knife through butter. Concentrating as hard as he could, Keith swerved the van away from the trio of Devon, Mason, and Tara and towards their makeshift guns expo. Once he felt he was close enough, he slammed on the brakes and swung the wheel around, turning the entire van around on two wheels with a dramatic ‘screeeeech’ before sliding to a stop just inches away from the front window. The van hovered on two wheels for a moment before gently bouncing back to a stable position.
Having plastered an excited, nearly-insane grin on his face the whole while, Keith rolled down the blood-stained window, leaned out, and yelled back to his passed-by teammates: “Hey, yall!” he called, waving excitedly. “I told ya I can drive!”
---
While all this had gone on, Robert had continued his sprint. About halfway back to the WalMart’s scattered assortment of eateries, a speedy bullet zipped into the ground, passing close enough to Robert’s knees to tear the fabric. The wannabe-Hunter let out a small, weak-sounding (though he’d never admit it) yelp at the close call before raising an arm over his head and giving whoever his attacker was a single-digit piece of his mind. Stopping would’ve been too much.
Cackling at his good fortune, Robert dove behind the counter of Subway and took a few deep breaths, catching himself up before the short leap to his carved-out hideaway. Over the sounds of gunshots, his own lungs hard at work, and what he thought was a goddamn van, he heard one of his own kind creeping up with a growl. He paid it no mind until he heard the scream.
Before the kid could look up and see the matter, he felt the strength of a real Hunter barrel into him, pinning him to the cold tile. Robert only had time to gasp before the thing tore into him.
Robert had lived a good life. He’d never broken any bones, he’d never been stabbed, he’d never even been in a hospital. At the sight of his own blood coating his idol’s claws and spraying the nearby walls, he could do nothing but gasp, eyes widened, and promptly pass out, falling asleep to a painfully ironic downfall.
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Tara Luketic
Junior Member
Witch Hunter and Pack Rat
Posts: 71
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Post by Tara Luketic on Feb 11, 2010 22:54:16 GMT -5
Tara nearly laughed when she heard Keith's yell, and was fully prepared to climb into the passenger seat when Roy called out to her. "Keith! Don't punch it! Roy's here with the guns!!" she shouted, waving an arm. She quickly opened the van's back doors and began to load the stuff in, a giddy feeling welling up inside of her at all of the wondrous firepower. "Roy, man... I could kiss you right now," Tara stated with a broad grin, especially when she saw the Incendiary Ammo.
Then, the sound of a strangled, inhuman scream reached her ears and she winced. "What the Hell is that?! It sounds like a cross between a yowling cat and a screeching monkey! Or Cody when he used to whine," she hissed. Tara was about to go check it out when the sound abruptly ceased with the sound of a shotgun firing. Returning to her work, she and Devon had almost finished loading up the van when there was a sudden, giant explosion in the parking lot.
Tara screamed bloody murder and leapt into the back of the van out of instinct, saving herself from the bloody rain that would have sent her into a coma. The sight and smell still made her gag, though, and she quickly focused all of her attention onto the floor of the van. She had finally shoved down the overwhelming sense of nausea when the back doors were suddenly closed, Roy having apparently loaded up the rest of the firepower. He must have thought she was just going to stay in here.
"Okay, Keith. It's all- IIIIIIIINNNNN!!!!! AAAAGGGGHHHH!!!! KEITH!!! SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!!!" Tara abruptly screamed as the van lurched forward, sending her flying back to slam into the doors. The next few minutes consisted of her screaming as she flew about the back of the van like a rag doll, crashing into the boxes, guns, and walls at varying intervals. Really, to anyone but her, it was quite hilarious. When the van finally came to its screeching halt, Tara did a fantastic flying leap over the front seats and down beneath the dashboard, headfirst.
Before she fell unconscious, covered in numerous bruises and a few scratches, she managed to stammer out a jumble of words to Keith. "Keith... you can't drive... and I'm... going to strangle you... when I wake up..."
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Post by Mason Breaker on Feb 15, 2010 17:10:03 GMT -5
Mason was still rather enjoying the after effects of his explosion when Keith proved something once and for all.
He couldn't drive to save a soul. Hell, probably not even a bottle of whiskey. Maybe if someone was holding the bottle, while wrapped in bubble wrap and the entire car was lined with padding on the inside. Maybe.
But on the plus side, he had been true to his word and got the van ready. It already looked like that Tara and Roy were in there, but Devon and Moro still needed to get in. Running back into the store and to the van, he took a moment to load up some more supplies into the truck, including ammunition, some toiletries, and food and water. Turning to Devon and Moro, he shouted;
"Oi'! Come on now! Train's leaving, don't wanna miss it, now do we?"
Turning back to the van, he opened the driver's seat. "Keith, you just drove the van through the freaking store, and I'm rather worried about what you'd hit on the road. I'm driving. No questions." He craned his neck to see Tara lying unconcious next to him. "And.... Ehhhh, get 'er in the back of the van with the rest of ya! Move it, move it!"
Glancing around to check for any more infected, he blew away any that were an immediate threat.
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Devon Jameson
New Member
"Anyone need a gun? Flare Gun? BB Gun? Raccoon Gun?"
Posts: 11
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Post by Devon Jameson on Feb 15, 2010 20:59:08 GMT -5
Devon nodded swiftly to Mason, and with a thrust of his arms, he tossed his weapon into the back of the van. With a grin, he leapt into the back, leaving one door open for Moro.
"Fuck yeah, Road Trip!" He shouted to the inner dwellings of the vehicle. Laughing, he relaxed into the side of the van, staring at the ceiling. He sat precariously close to the weapons, turning to the door of the van.
His eyes were drawn to the corpse of the Screamer. His grin slowly turning into a scowl, Devon curved his mouth in a frown and glared daggers at a box of cereal that sat on the edge of the item rack.
"C'mon, C'mon, Fall... Achieve my vengeance..." He whispered to himself.
Almost on cue, the box of delicious chocolate-flavored food tilted and fell off of the rack. Almost in slow motion, the box spun four times, before slamming right into the Screamer's face. Devon jumped into the air.
"Victory is mine!"
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Post by Keith the Great on Feb 15, 2010 21:42:59 GMT -5
After nine years of being banned from even just sitting at the wheel and making sound effects, Keith had the time of his life being behind the wheel. In fact, he was so excited, he didn’t notice he had a passenger until she was thrown up into the front seat. And even then, he didn’t notice a thing until she said his name:
“Keith... you can't drive... and I'm... going to strangle you... when I wake up...”
“Ehm...” Keith shrugged with a sheepish grin. “You’re dreamin? When you wake up, you won’t remember a thing? I’m to young t’ die?” Fortunately, she lost consciousness before she could murder him, giving Keith some time to gather the others and hopefully prevent her from killing him.
Keith would have gone right back to driving (perhaps attempt a parallel-park between two shelves) had Mason not stuck his head in the window and insisted on driving. (Oh, and he also requested that Tara be moved to the back of the van.)
Let it be known that Keith would have argued ‘till hell froze over about his driving, had it not been for the fact that there were five other people around who would, more likely than not, argue against him and have him tied to a sled attached to the back where he could flail and scrape along the pavement. Instead, he decided he’d settle for what he could before someone else took it.
“Shotgun!” he squeaked, tumbling out of the driver’s seat (no need to undo a seatbelt; he’d never bothered with it to begin with) and scrambling into the passenger side. Once he’d reserved his spot, he reached over and dragged Tara out from the floor of the van. It took him a little while, but Keith managed to slide her out from under the dashboard and flop the poor girl into the back.
Keith spared a moment to call to his backseat passengers, “Y’all be good back there! Don’t let Tarrie die!” before he settled himself down in the passenger’s seat and tried to look innocent.
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