Six survivors, in a city where everything was turned against them, no hope of survival if they stayed, escape the only viable option. The night had only just begun, a new day amidst the chaos of the spread of a deadly disease, of which these six were mysteriously and miraculously immune. What would they do to survive? How would they survive in a city, possibly a world, where the populace had been turned into bloodthirsty monsters bent on killing every thing they see? These thoughts and more ran through Jim's head as he stood watch over the other five survivors for the night. After being chased across the street by things he did not want to think about, they'd climbed up here, through a fire escape that was, thankfully, destroyed by one of those things, killing itself in the process.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair and adjusting his glasses so they sat level on his nose, and not lop-sided or too low. His pistol sat in his other hand, his finger on the trigger, eyes constantly watching for any of the Infected that might interrupt his comrades' well-earned rest. He had armed himself well earlier, favouring a shotgun over an UZI, but that weapon had been lost during their hectic climb up the now destroyed fire escape. Across from where his companions were resting, stood a desk, covered by a tarp that hung suspended from a couple of poles secured to different places on the roof of the apartment. On the table stood a large pile of ammunition, presumably for any other survivors that might chance upon this place of refuge. He also thought there would be weapons there, but they were long gone, taken by another group of survivors that might have passed through here.

As he leaned his head on the edge of the rooftop, he heard a sound. Not the sound of an Infected scrabbling up the staircase that led to the roof, but of a different source altogether. Very faint, seeming to come from somewhere down the street. He shook the others lightly, intending to wake them up and inform them. The noise grew louder, eventually forming into a 'whup-whup-whup' that grew louder with each passing second. The thing, a helicopter, he realised, was flying down the street, searchlights on. A loud hailer attached to the chopper was blaring a call.

'If there is anybody out there, proceed to Mercy Hospital for evacuation. Repeat, proceed to Mercy Hospital for evacuation.'

This call was being repeated as the chopper flew down the street, its searchlights casting eerie shadows of everything around it, including the Infected that milled about on the street below. Jim swore silently, something he rarely did, before turning to his companions that were sleeping and shaking them gently to wake them up.

'Wake up guys. Wake up! I think a way out of this accursed hellhole has shown itself!'

(oo this looks great, can I join? I need to be somewhere righ tnow, but i'll be back in an hour tops!)

[Registrations are already closed. PM me if you want in, but no guarantees.]

Don may have appeared asleep but one thing he had learned in the Gulf War,
"Sleep means your not paying attention, and not paying attention gets a man killed." He may have drifted of into a sleep like medatative state. Which, if he didn't shake himself out of, would turn to sleep. His eyes flicked open the moment the helicopter flew over the street sendning a ripple through the sea of infected. His pistol was the only gun that still had any ammo yet it was still running low,
"Wake up guys. Wake up! I think a way out of this accursed hellhole has shown itself!" Don pulled himself up against the wall, he remembered when he had been young and could do seventy two our recon missions near the Gulf Coast.
"Damn it," Don muttered he had just taken the last dreg of liquor from a small canteen.

He flipped the safety on his pistol off. If they were going to run through the little fuckers below then he wouldn't want to find himself not firing anything by air.
"So, Mercy Hospital? Any ideal routes?" He asked the group.

Jim thought for a moment, going through his memory to find a map of the city that could be useful. As the rest of the group began to awaken due to his somewhat raised voice and the sound of the helicopter passing by, he had already thought of one possible way to get to Mercy Hospital.

'The subway. We can get to the hospital via the subway. If we take the Red Line North, it will lead us straight there.'

He got up, dusting off and straightening his clothes while clicking the safety off his pistol. He straightened his glasses again, then checked his pistol magazine to make sure that it was full. Spare magazines for his pistol lay slotted in straps on a belt he wore that was hidden underneath his shirt. He walked to the edge of the roof and looked down, the Infected milling about were showing some interest in the helicopter that just passed by, but did not proceed to chase it and potentially ruin their chances of escape.

'To get to the subway, we have to make our way down to the street, then work our way to it from there. Anyone know of any entrances to the subway from here?'

"Two I know of," Don said as he reared back and spat over the side of the fire escape. "We could take our chances and make a rush down the street into Station A12, or we could use a sewer access panel. Either way we'll have a hard as hell time getting through the hordes." He said raising his maimed hand as if to show where his pinky and ring finger were absent. "I take that back, the Horde won't be the problem, but the subway is probably crawling with Witches and Tanks," A crooked hopeless smile crossed his face as he picked up the hulking bag that held his rations, unleavened bread and Tang, the breakfast of champions, and his spare ammo. Last night he had found a box of shotgun shells, but no shotgun but decided to keep them anyway. IF he ever happened to come upon a shotgun then he would be ready to lock and load.

Jim nodded, agreeing with the two. Taking the subway would be a bad idea, considering that it would be chock full of Tanks and Witches, thus posing twice, even three times as much danger. It would be safer dealing with the plain Infected out here on the street.

Then again, this theory was proven wrong before. Just before arriving on the roof, they'd been chased by a Tank that had killed itself trying to climb up a fire escape. It destroyed the thing as it climbed up, leading to it falling all the way back down and then getting crushed underneath the destroyed fire escape that came crashing back down on it.

'Still, I say we take our chances in the subway. It may be more dangerous, but its the fastest route to the hospital. After all, we want to get to the hospital as fast as we can before the helicopter departs for good.'

He checked his pistol again, finding that it was fully loaded, cocked and ready to go. He went over to the door that led downstairs to the highest apartment. In one hand, he held his pistol, and in the other, the doorknob.

'You guys ready?'

Jim cringed a bit at Jordan's cry, then he held his pistol up and out at the rooftops, in case any Infected nearby actually heard her cry out and scrambled to investigate. He turned 360 degrees slowly, examining his surroundings, then, satisfied that they were safe enough, holstered his pistol for a while and walked over to Jordan. He was worried that, if they didn't get going quickly, the helicopter would leave without them, the pilot thinking that all the survivors in Fairfield were already dead. He extended a hand to her, intending to help her up.

'You alright, Jordan?'

Blinking a few times, it took her a long while to finally realise that she was not in the woods, and not in her bed. Even though she was alive, as she turned slowly to take in the faces and surroundings she found herself in, she could not experience that safe and comfortable relief of waking from a nightmare in your warm, normal bed.

As a hand interrupted her field of vision, Laetitia looked up and stared its owner in the face as if she hadn't understood him. She took his hand and gently hoisted herself up with its support, taking a breath before breathily asking,
"When did I give you my name?"

Flinching at the sound of the gun being readied, she glanced over her shoulder at Ant, a sharp inhale swelling her chest and activating her adrenaline once more. She hadn't noticed him behind her until then, or, really, anyone who was beyond her peripheral vision. The thought came that if she couldn't tell a friend was behind her, what would become of her if a foe decided to ambush her?

After staring at him for a long minute, she glanced to the floor, already knowing the answer. "We're not safe, are we?"

"Ready, as a man can be when he decides to run straight through hells gates," Don said he was in no mood to stand around and become lunch for the mother fuckers below.

((OOC: Sorry about the one liner but I don't think I should be the one to instigate us beggining the journey. Its up to you DJAtomica.))

Jim nodded to the two and stood up again, helping Jordan up onto her feet. He unholstered his pistol and cocked it, going back to the door and, after saying a short prayer, opened it, glancing down into the apartment below. At the end of the stairwell, a pile of bodies, some decomposing and emitting a great stench, lay near an open doorway. In the doorway, one of the Infected lay leaning with his back against the door frame. Jim aimed his pistol carefully and fired off a shot, but this shot missed, even though he aim, and the shot alerted the Infected thing, which rushed towards him, snarling and yelling. Jim extended a foot and kicked the thing in the chest, sending it reeling off balance and tumbling back down the staircase, where it landed with a wet thump on top of the pile of bodies. As it got up, Jim fired off a series of shots that made dots up its shoulder until one punched a hole in its head, causing it to fall over, quite dead.

"Where are we going?" she asked quite innocently, watching the men prepare their guns before glancing here and there in a futile attempt to procure her own. No dice. What she did find, though, was a glass bottle. She took it in her hand and hoped it would bring her use soon as she awaited nervously for the others to file out.