((Tell me about it. Got a job now too -.-))

Mike takes a look out from their sheltered area and thinks back to what he's seen and where the best place to get items are. Well getting food can be done back at the food store, but I don't want to go in there with just this pea shooter if I can help it. If I remember correctly there's a gun store of a kind a few blocks away. Mike nods to Vanessa. "Alright, lets do this. First order of business is getting us some decent weapons. Hell has come to earth. We need some way to fight it. After that we'll go and get some supplies." Mike says and then heads off towards the camping store, looking behind to make sure Vanessa follows.

Andy looked around at the houses, mentally listing their pros and cons before turning back to Daniel. "I like the closed one with no boarded windows or security, looks pretty much untouched by the infected or vandals." She paused, looking back up to the darkening sky. "However I don't know if we really want to waste time boarding up and safe guarding a house if we still have to clear it anyway. I dunno. You make a decision."

She did however look at his bat with interest. "Mind if I borrow that tonight?"

((EDIT: ... Is it just me or does that last sentence sound REALLY wrong?))

Feet thudding on the metal stairs, Alessa stopped short as the zombies appeared below them, hand tightening on her bat. "Holy ****!" The invective escaped before she could clamp down on it. Sgt. Williams was talking into his radio, trying to talk to someone he'd heard . . . she glanced at him; was he too busy to take on the five or six below? Looking back to them, she gritted her teeth and readied her weapon to start bludgeoning. Now that she was making a bid for freedom, she wasn't going to let some walking dead beat her in the auction. Not without a fight.

Loud clanging sounded from above, and she cursed again, although mentally this time. The zombies she'd heard above them on the stairway must've heard them . . . .

"Cover your ears, Alessa! This'll get loud as hell!"

Almost unconsciously, she obeyed, moving down the stairs toward Sgt. Williams as the gunfire started. Her eyes didn't leave the zombies below as they followed her. Her bat was tucked under one arm, hands clamped over her ears, but as she drew alongside the soldier, the noise was still deafening. She could practically feel the little hairs of her inner ear dying like ants in a flood. An arm hit her chest, knocking her sprawling to the floor. Her hands fell away from her ears, letting the sound wash in; she yelled in protest.

Then . . . it stopped. Ringing started in her ears immediately, before Williams muttered to himself and dropped his weapon, drawing a knife instead. Alessa could only stare, mouth open in a small 'o' as he went after the three zombies from above with everything he had. Within seconds, they were dispatched, and he was standing still again, before turning to face her.

Alessa swallowed hard, staring back at him. Her mouth closed with an audible 'click' in the suddenly too-silent stairwell. Finally Sgt. Williams moved, going about the business of post-battle clean-up. She took that as her cue to get to her feet, dusting off the seat of her pants.

"Very . . . skilled," she said, to break the silence. "I mean, you're skilled. And what you did was skillful . . . ." Pinching the bridge of her nose with two fingers, she huffed in annoyance with herself. "I'm sorry. Let's just leave it at 'good job. Thank you.'"

"Well, shall we continue?"

She nodded once. "Absolutely. We need to go down one more floor, then the door on the left gives us a straight shot for the service entrance." Smiling briefly - to say thank-you again, and as a way of showing she was all right in the attack's aftermath - she moved to the next flight of stairs and headed down.

Her smile faded, though, as she pondered the number of zombies that could still be in the hospital. Before the outbreak cause the hospital to shut down, she'd heard of the morgue being deserted because the bodies coming in had starting getting up off the tables. The doors had since been chained shut, but if the undead had managed to break through, they could be all over the adjacent loading dock . . . . Her teeth ground together again as she pushed the thought away. No. Forget it. It had been two weeks since then; if they'd broken out, they had to be long gone by now.

Thinking about it for a moment, Daniel came to a decision. "Well," he said, "I think I agree with you on the house that isn't boarded up and has the door shut. Let's just hope it's unlocked." Thinking of what to do if it was locked, Daniel almost missed Andy's question about his bat. Nodding, he set both bags on the ground and pulled the bat and flash light out. He handed the bat to her and checked the light. It seemed to work. Satisfied, he stood and picked his bags back up. "We shouldn't have to worry about boarding it up too much. That's what furniture is for."

((Yes it does sound wrong, lol.))

Milo was a bit surprised when he awoke to see darkness, and tried to sit up to get a grip as to where he was, but the pain was too much right now and he allowed himself to lay back in the warmth that was the blankets. It was a very welcomed change to the cold, wet, blood-stained clothes he had moments ago worn in his fight against the zombies. Then it came to him. The woman and the child he had protected. This was that house. He glnaced to the side to see the woman walk in, and tried once more to sit up. As with the first time, pain shot through his head and he clasped his hand over his right eye. It ached, but he ignored it.

"That would be-" wincing slightly before continuing, "-great..." He smiled slightly, trying to act as kindly as possible. "Oh, and thank you." He added, glancing around the room quickly before returning his eyes to the woman. "I 'm glad to see you're alright. Oh, uh, my name's Milo by the way." Though he spoke kindly, he remained a bit unnerved from having been seperated from the weapons he used to protect himself, and others. I'll have to be sure to collect my things before I leave...

Rachel sighed, her chest retreating into a shallow cavity that the lack of air in her lungs had created. "Same thing here, no way do I want to turn. I'd much rather eat a bullet then find myself nomming on brains."

The 'geek' came reeling back into her voice as she spoke, the word 'nom' really bringing it to the surface. She was still shaky and stared at the door with a hardened glare. There were noises from outside, but they remained muffled so long as the door was shut; Rae was thankful for this fact, not sure if she could have mustered the courage to walk out the doors if she could hear the screams and moans full force. As Lexie mentioned supplies, thoughts began to click through Rachel's head. There was one advantage to being a complete nerd, the amount of information she had stored away in her brain.

"There is a camping supplies place right down the road, and on the same road in the other direction is a food place -- they had some dried food last time I went shopping..." She paused, tapped her chin in thought and readjusted her grip on the heavy golf club, she should have grabbed two... these things look solid and can definitely hit a ball, but bashing in a skull? Probably wouldn't hold out so well. "There is some sort of hunting store past the camping supply place, too. We shouldn't go there first though..."

She had seemingly ignored Lexie's comment about wanting to leave as she thought through their options, she was startled from her spoken thoughts as a sound echoed behind the two girls. Turning away from the door, there were four individual zombies back down the hall. They had just noticed the two girls standing by the door and had started making their way towards them. Rae let out a surprised shout and it seemed to set the zombies off, each of them beginning a run at the stationary women. Rachel would have said something clichéd, perhaps "Well, time to go!", but that was far from her available skills at this point.

Instead, she pulled the front door open and exited, Lexie close at her heel. The door clicked shut behind them and the girls could hear the zombies run directly into it, seemingly not intelligent enough to open it. "Running, we should definitely be running." With an affirmative nod from Lexie, she took off at a run to the closest campus exit -- north towards Mulberry Street. She paid hardly any attention to the scenes surrounding her. Zombies were roaming the campus, student and faculty lay dead and half-eaten, and living students were pounding on the thick, plexiglass windows of rooms that they were trapped in. Guilt set in, much too quickly, and Rae realized that she and Lexie would have an extremely rough time ahead of them.

Her lack of attention spared her from scenes of zombies currently eating what used to be professors and classmates, but it had unique downsides. As she rounded the corner of a building, she flew directly into a person. The force of the collision sent Rachel sprawling backward, the tell-tale sign of what sounded like her laptop cracking filling her ears as she landed hard on her backpack. She cringed, if they hadn't been in the middle of an apocalypse, she probably would have started crying. Her baby was tough, probably only suffering damage to the cover -- it wouldn't look pretty, but it should still work. Regardless, it had cost her two years of savings to pay for it -- it was perfect! Her thoughts flooding back to the present, she realized that the person she had run into had also been knocked over.

Rachel pulled herself to her feet, crimson creeping into her features. "O-oh my gosh! I'm so sorry! Let me, let me help you up." She extended her hand to the individual as she approached her, obviously not considering if this could turn out badly in the least.

((It's a zombie, obviously... >.>;;; Alexis can notice that though.))

((I have one of those too, but with the decrease in hours the store has received lately, I've gotten zero hours for the past three weeks. -_-;;))

Vanessa, seemingly shocked by how quickly you recall the area around you, stared wide-eyed and nodding. She mutters a stumbling "sure" and follows after you.

There is a gun store near a camping supply store to the north and the road that you are traveling on seems pretty uneventful. Staying in the shade allows some more freedom in your motion, seeing as your footsteps are muffled by brush and grass. Things remain quite open, however, and the two of you are easy to see should anything decide to give chase. You imagine that the journey is about three miles, something easily accomplished in an hour or so at a walking pace.

This path will take you right by Colorado State University's campus, however, and you assume that the populated area will be teaming with zombies. There are alternate routes, but it will take another hour or so if you choose to take an alternate route that may be less populated with the undead.

((Yeah, it sounded pretty wrong... >.>;;))

Approaching the home, you see no signs of inhabitants. The house is dark, though, and it is difficult to see any features further than what is closest to the windows. Upon reaching the front door, one of you discovers it is unlocked (whoever opens it, I guess) and it creeks open. If you wait to see if there are any sounds coming from the house, perhaps in response to the door being opened, there are none. It seems pretty empty.

Entering into the home, you stop within a small alcove.
In front of you are a set of stairs that lead to the second floor. The stairs rests on a wall, a wooden banister standing on the side that faces the hallway. About halfway up, there is a landing and the stairs angle left. There is another small landing there, and the stairs come to an end in a hallway.
Next to the stairs, on the left, is a small hallway that leads to a room further in the house -- the lack of lights make it impossible to see exactly where it leads. If you use your flashlight, you would discover that it is the entrance to both the kitchen and a small dining room.
To the right is an open arch, leading into what appears to be a small home office, there are no exits to this room and it appears empty.
To the left is a second open arch, it appears at this point that doors are uncommon in this home. This leads to a relatively large day room that has a bay window facing the front of the home.
From the front door, you can make out the outline of a single door (closed) on the second floor. It is next to a small closet. Experience in any home would lead you to believe that the closed door is a bathroom and the closet is perhaps a linen closet.
The hallway extend further, however, and exploration would allow you to find three more shut rooms on the second floor. One to the far right of the hallway, and then two more to the left.
In the small hallway leading to the kitchen/dining room there are two doors facing each other. One is closed tightly and you are unsure what is behind it. The second is half-closed, the door sliding to open and close, and you can see a sink from your position, leading to the common assumption that is it at least a half-bath.

Group -- The hallway remains silent, filled only with heavy footsteps as you travel down the stairs. Thankfully, if any of the zombies had remained alive through the vicious attack, their fall to the concrete bottom of the stairwell would have finished them off.

J. Williams -- There is no further response on the radio. You can assume that the responding radio has stopped working, that the person handling said radio had suffered some ungodly fate, or that your further decent into the depths of the hospital has hindered the signal further.

Group -- The next flight of stairs is quick and quiet, emerging on the needed floor a sense of relief floods through both of you. It is quickly interrupted, however. As you reach the floor you desire, the sound of the zombies finally managing to break through the door above echoes through the stairwell -- the sounds of their screams pour into the confined space, assaulting your ears. You each know that if they flock down the stairs any quicker than you can exit, they'll be upon you. Your luck also seems to have dwindled, as the door you are to exit from is simple to escape: one need only to push the bar in and push the door open. While the zombies are not yet intelligent enough to realize this, all one has to do is run into the correct spot. It will be another four or five minutes before they will reach the loading dock in their full numbers.

While the zombies locked in the morgue would have escaped a long time ago, they had not yet had reason to be as riled as they are now. They had chosen to simply waddle around in the cramped space that was the morgue, with no reason to try and escape, why would they have done so? With the sounds of gunfire, voices, and fellow undead, they have risen up again. Upon arriving on your floor, the sounds of moaning emanate from the chained double doors which have slowly begun to be pried open. Hand have escape through the crack of the barely open doors and the chains slowly straining as more and more force is piled onto it makes an audible screeching sound.

J Williams -- Assuming that you've worked with chains before (and I assume you have, being in the military), you know that there is only a minute or two before the chain will completely break, releasing a horde of zombies, that you had not known to exist until now, upon you and Alessa. The amount of hands and the loudness of the sounds indicate that there are many, many zombies behind the door and you have nowhere near the amount of manpower to deal with them.

Group -- The door to the service entrance is open and unlocked, but arriving within the large and concrete room, you realize that the doors are shut. The door leading to the service entrance is much like the door from the stairwell, a zombie need only to lean against the right spot before it pops open. The doors do not appear to be manual, though they could probably be opened with enough force. There is a door that also leads to the outside, but inspection would reveal that it is also chained shut -- perhaps preventing the massive horde of zombies from escaping quite casually from the hospital.

J. Williams -- Breaking through the exit seems impossible, as it is made out of hinged steel, allowing it to be rolled up and down, but nearly impossible to actually damage with the fire/manpower that you have now. The singular door is much the same, it would take a good while to break it down and that is time that you do not have.

Alessa -- You know where the button is to open the loading bay door, but it requires a number sequence or an authorized card to be swiped through it. Not having a fully authorized card, you have to rely on your memory for the password. You remember that there are three digits: 2, 5, and 9, but you cannot recall the order correctly. Entering each number will take about five seconds and once the correct number is entered it will take a few seconds before the door responds.

Group -- It will take a while for the large, metal door to open; however, this will not keep you both from rolling underneath it once you are able. The problem is, there is no way to close the doors from the outside and the zombies will continue to chase you -- no doubt drawn to the sound of the door opening.

((Aannndd... Go!))

The woman smiles down at you, kneeling beside you as you sit up. She extends her cupped hand, opening it to reveal to small pills sitting in the palm of her hand. She also extends her second hand, the glass of water about half full. Her smile seems to grow as you thank her and introduce yourself, expressing your concern for her. and she lets out a soft laugh, though it sounds strained. "Yes, we're perfectly fine, if not but a little shaken up. Thanks to you that is."

After passing you the medicine and the glass of water she stands up again, "I... I threw your clothes out. They were covered in blood and that can't be good... not with the way the infection spreads." Her hands wring nervously in front of her as her gaze becomes weary. You can tell that she is feeling a lot of pain and is obviously scared, but like any good mother, she acts strong for her daughter -- it's taking its toll. "I'm Maria, by the way. It's nice to meet you Milo. You should rest for a little while longer while the Tylenol kicks in." She turns to leave, but stops short. "Oh, and your things are in the kitchen. I tucked the pistol into one of your skates, though. I don't need Claire finding it and deciding it's a fun new toy." She chuckles again, though this does not reach her eyes. "There is some bread, butter, and jam in the kitchen as well. If you're hungry. That is." She coughs, blinks, and then quickly makes her way from the room, embarrassed by her stumbling words.

Upon further inspection, you notice that you are lying in the living room. It seemed disturbed, however, with much of the furniture having been moved to barricade the home. You are definitely dressed in men's clothing, but you never recall seeing a man around. It is possible that the woman had recently lost her husband, or whom ever it was that would have made these clothes available to you. Though you cannot see outside, you can safely assume that at least a few hours have passed, perhaps three or four; your injury was relatively mild, but the exhaustion of the previous fight had obviously put you out. It would still be relatively light outside, but it would not remain light for long -- perhaps another three or four hours at the most.

"Oh boy. Decision time again. This is why I didn't sign up for officer training." he mutters to himself. School full of kids probably means tons of zombies already, but taking a giant detour means more time spent with guns that are not something I'd want to take to war. As he is thinking he hears something rattle about in his AR-15.
Great. That's probably the modified firing mechanism coming loose. That's gonna cause some problems. he keeps walking but releases the clasp holding his pistol in the holster in case his main weapon decides to have a fit. Time is of the essence. Going to have to take the shorter route and pray that we're not spotted. Mike begins looking for stealthier ways to cross roads and other junctions as well as finding as much cover as possible in case they have to hide really quickly.

Slightly perturbed at you talking to yourself, Vanessa raises an eyebrow, but asks no questions. She follows behind you, attempting to take the same steps and paths that you make, it's almost a comical sight. She watches you with excessive focus, her brow furrowed and her tongue having peeked out from between her lips on the left side.

The caution with which you move keeps you out of the sights of numerous zombies roaming the streets, it seems that only the Type II zombies really venture from the road. You assume that their better coordination allows them to keep their footing off road, compared to their less skilled brethren. As you near closer and closer to the university, which doesn't take very long, the amount of "off-roading" that you can do narrows significantly. You seen reach the end of your grass and stumble upon a concrete city, the Colorado State University in clear sights.

Vanessa has edged closer to you, obviously uncomfortable in the open city streets. Wandering into buildings would be far too dangerous at this point, however, and she's reacted to that by staying no more than a foot or so behind you. Being from the military, it is instinctively unnerving to have someone that close to you, regardless of the fact that you've invited her along. Her nervousness is making her breathing shallower, and you can hear the fabric of her light coat respond to her frequent head turning.

It will be another 45 minutes or so, in order to reach the hunting and camping supply stores. From your position, you can see the street ahead of you teaming with the infected. It seems as though a majority of the Colorado State University student and faculty basis has been either eaten or turned. It would be impossible to make it through the area unnoticed.

He quickly lost his optimism when there was no response from the radio. He turned the radio off again as he muttered to himself.

"Useless piece of trash."

He came upon the door at the bottom of the stair well, cautiously pushing it open, his gun going through the door before him. He heard the zombies above break though and immediately swung the door open, knowing it would only take a short time for them to be down the stairs. He pushed through the door into the loading bay, pushing the door closed after Alessa came through. He looked around quickly for a way to seal it but found none. He scanned the room with the flashlight, seeing the door to the morgue, partially open with hands clawing through it. He then saw the other door leading outside sealed with chains.

He quickly made the decision, dropping his SCAR as he made a dash for the chained door, pulling out his pistol. He aimed his gun and shot the chain, the bullet breaking the link. He pulled the chain loose, then ran to the door to the morgue. He stood back a couple feet, then kicked the door back to being closed, taking a few hits. As he did, the bones in the hands sticking jutting through the crack in the door cracked and finally snapped, breaking through, leaving the hands hanging limply in the door. With that, he put his weight against the door and wrapped the chains tight around the door handles, intertwining it with the other chain already there to strengthen it. He had no lock to secure it, so he wrapped it under and around other chains to secure it. He pulled it all tight, then stood back. He knew the chain that was on there wouldn't last long and that the new chain would only hold for so long.

He made his way back to the door he had just unsealed and tried to push it open, but it became stuck on something, only opening a crack before stopping. It felt like the hinges on the door became rusted and sealed, preventing the door frame to swivel on it. He grunted as the door stopped moving, having expected it to easily swing open. (Sorry if I'm godmodding again, it just seemed like a good explanation to make us have to use the loading bay doors. ;) ) He stepped away, bringing the flashlight up to look at the hinge. It was completely rusted over. He turned to Alessa, running over to her.

"The door is stuck," he said. "Can you get that bay door open?" He motioned to the large loading bay door. "Or better yet, do you know of a better way out? 'Cause I don't really care how we get out, so long as it don't end with us dyin', yeah?" Had he known the hospital well enough, he would have taken lead. As he did not, he was relying on Alessa for that. He would protect her, and she would guide him. He figured it was a good system, so long as he didn't run out of ammunition and she didn't get lost.

*found my missing posts*

Muttering a quick thank you, Andy took the bat from his hand and began the short walk up towards the house, looking every which way for signs of inhabitants. So far, nothing. Upon reaching the house, she checked the door, surprised when it turned out unlocked.

She pulled the door open, peering inside curiously as she waited for Daniel to catch up. When he did she turned to look at him. "You clear the downstairs and I'll clear the top Make sure you keep an ear out for noise. I've yet to even hear about an infected managing to hold their tongue... whether or not their tongue is still attached."

She walked over to the staircase before peering up, frowning when she realized how dark is really was. "Any spare flashlights? Or just the one?"

((Absolutely no problem, man. I had first intended for the chain to be on the outside of the door, effectively locking you in with no way to use your weapons -- but you got yourself stuck anyways AND used some ammo, so, it's good with me. I'll still have my "obscene amount of zombies" fun, don't you worry. ;D))

The world outside was in ruins. Lexie was in shock- just pure, unadulterated shock. Dead bodies everywhere, people she knew, people she used to go to class with… She even saw her dealer lying dead on the road, but that was a slight upside. He had deserved it. The last thing he said to her was that Lexie is a filthy whore who would never amount to anything. But rather be a whore than dead. Lexie spared a quick bitter glance at his direction as she followed Rachel, who appeared to be running at full tilt.

“Hey, um, Rae? I don’t shoot them, right? Save my ammo, right?” Her voice had taken on a shrill quality, like the sound of breaking glass.

She looked back at the stricken faces of former classmates trapped in the University, pounding desperately, their faces pleading for help but there was no help to be given. They would die, Lexie thought. They would die horribly. But a strange feeling filled her. Not guilt, she knew she was making the smarter choice by leaving them, but she had a small reluctancy to leave nonetheless. But staying in that building would definitely be a bad idea. She and Rae had almost been attacked by four more right before they left.

The pair ended up running north once they hit Mulberry street. Lexie was panting now, struggling to keep up, wanting to stop and breathe but terrified that Rae would just keep running. Terrified of dying alone at the hands of these savages. Dying like the other students, trapped in their dorms with no hope of escape or rescue. Alexis didn’t even notice the stench anymore- that stinking aroma of ether and more, darker and sinuous substances.

She then thought about Derek. She didn’t know what their relationship was. Romantic? Best friends? Friends with benefits? Lexie had no idea. She didn’t even know what she thought of him. Sexy? Cute? Friends-only? She hoped he was okay. It’s been a few weeks since they’ve last had contact with each other. She hoped he was alive right now.

Three weeks ago. Midnight. The Park.

“So tell me.” Lexie said, staring into his eyes, confused but slightly satisfied at the same time. “What do you think of me?”

The perfect night. Alone, at night, with the one person in the world Lexie truly loved. She didn’t know what kind of love, but she supposed that was hardly important. As long as they had each other everything would be okay.

“You always say that.” Derek laughed, laying down on the dewy grass as if there was nothing wrong with life. But there was something wrong. Terribly wrong. Derek was moving.

New York City.

Lexie wanted to set their connection straight before he went. She didn’t know how to approach it, and it’s been bothering her ever since high school when they first met. Life back then had been so easy. But now, Lexie found herself in the hard world of drugs. Not to mention the scum that comes with it.

There’s this boy. A coke user, nice and simple. He didn’t seem to have any inhibitions against touching Lexie in certain areas. That’s the issue. Lexie felt she wasn’t ready yet. If she didn’t have Derek, coke-guy would probably be having his way with her.

“Oh shit, remember coke-guy?” Lexie asked, and almost giggled, but she kept her composure, which seemed to amuse Derek.

“I whupped his ass for ya. Are you thankful?

“Of course I’m thankful! I love you, big guy.”

With that, the two young adults just looked at each other, questioning and hoping the other would speak. Things always got awkward when the L word came up. Because neither of them knew what exactly they were. Both of them were afraid. Neither of them would admit it to the other. But they knew anyways.

A mumbled goodbye later, a strong hug, and Derek was in his car, driving home. Lexie grinned softly to herself and headed back to campus.

Present Day. Mulberry Street.

Rachel had run into a woman. The rushed apologies threw Lexie out of her stupor. She glanced uneasily at the woman. Something didn’t look quite right. Instinctively, she drew her gun and aimed it carefully at her forehead.

Blind instinct this time. Not even thinking. I guess I’m getting used to this shit.

With a grunt Frank stood and stretched for a moment. The small group of zombies weaving they're way toward him seemed to pick up the pace slightly as if in anticipation.

"Heh, well ahm sure Id feed yahs for a good day or two chums but this'n has a few years left in him."

Lifting his shield Frank stepped defensively in front of the house, cocking his head back he roared "ELVIS!" and crouched to absorb the impact of a charging undead. With a wet smack the creature impaled itself upon the shields nail studded surface, Frank felt its cold hands feebly trying to reach for his eyes, rather then loose a chunk of his face Frank grunted and heaved his shield sharply upwards and over his shoulder, as the weight of the zombie left he heard a sharp crunch as it hit the ground seconds later.

As the others closed in Frank let forth a satisfied smile and cracked his neck, reaching back he unsheathed his machete and once again screamed for the New Yorker, as a zombie shambled toward him arms outstretched he chuckled and lopped it off at the elbow, as the creature recoiled Frank stepped forward and drove his boot into its chest with a frontal kick, continuing the momentum Frank swung his full weight onto the downed zombie and smiled grimly as its chest collapsed inwards. As he struggled to pull his foot from the creature he almost was taken down from behind but as luck would have it he managed to loose his balance at exactly the right moment to topple backwards onto his newest assailant. With a sickening "squelch" Frank groaned and staggered to his feet. He backpedaled quickly and almost slipped in the remains of the recently crushed zombie.

"Damnit thats never gonna come out of my shirt." as images of the once cheerful Hawaiin print stained with blood popped into his head Frank tossed his shield aside and took his machete in a two handed grip, two zombies remained in his vicinity but the rest of the group could be anywhere, judging by the sounds of gunfire Elvis was already on it, albeit most likely half asleep. Charging forward Frank began lopping off limbs and roaring accentuating each swing with a word,

"Can.....never.....find......my.....size!!!!!" One zombie remained, it stood there almost akwardly waving the stumps that used to be arms, its companion lay near it sans arms and head. Tossing the machete aside Frank started forward and took the zombies head in his hands, holding the snapping creature away from his body Frank mumbled,

"These days it seems you just cant get ahead...." and with that turned its head 360 degrees and pulled it off with a swift tug, he looked away sharply to avoid the sudden gushing spray of spinal fluid and coagulated blood.

Dropping the bloody lump Frank stood for a moment and then punted it off across the street, gathering his Machete and shield Frank sauntered up to the house and stopped at the front door, looking to his feet he stepped back for a moment and then with a chuckle wiped both boots on the once pristine "Home Sweet Home" door mat.

After a moment of catching his breath inside Frank removed his outer layer of clothing and tossed the whole mess into the sink, he filled the sink with cold water and dropped his gore stained weapons onto the kitchen floor, with a grunt he heaved himself into a chair at the kitchen table and began carefully removing gobs of flesh from his shield.

Milo nods, and gently takes the glass of water and the pills. He places the pills in his mouth and drinks the water quickly, as if trying to get the medicine to work as quickly as possible. He didn't like feeling disoriented and in pain. It's getting late, I bet... and I still have a ways to go to get to CSU... "I'm glad to hear that... Oh, and I can understand why you threw away my clothes." He smiles once more. Though I am interested, it could cause her pain to ask about the original owner of these clothes... I should leave that topic alone for now. "Claire? Is that the girl I saw with you earlier, Miss Maria?" He asks, glancing toward what he assumed led to the kitchen. He was getting hungry, but knew he couldn't stay too long. Besides, taking food from people in a situation like this would be rude.

The minute she stepped through into the service area, and Sergeant Williams closed the door behind her, Alessa’s mind was racing. Her eyes went to the main bay door, then to the morgue entrance, and the hands reaching out. She winced - the way their hands clawed at the air, they looked like demented cats. Creepy.

Tearing her attention away from them, she looked to the man-door, only to see it chained shut as well. As Sergeant Williams set about better analyzing the escape routes, she took up a watchman — watchwoman? Watchperson? — stance, bat held at the ready should any zombies break loose into the area. All too soon, Sergeant Williams was back at her side.

"The door is stuck," he said. "Can you get that bay door open?" He motioned to the large loading bay door. "Or better yet, do you know of a better way out? 'Cause I don't really care how we get out, so long as it don't end with us dyin', yeah?"

Lowering her weapon, Alessa bit her lower lip in concentration, looking across at the bay door. “Ummmm . . . . I know that they need a combination. Every hospital staff member is asked to memorize it, but . . . that was a long time ago.”

Making her decision, she began a quick jog across to a control panel on the wall opposite the morgue entrance. “Keep an eye on everyone; I’ll work it out!”

Her mind was back to racing now, trying to remember the combination. Three digits . . . come on, what were they? She stopped in front of the control panel, staring at the keypad. 2 was one of the numbers, and . . . and 5. Those had been her favourite numbers as a kid. And the other one . . . . Her eyes went to the six, before she shook her head. No, not 6 - 9. 2, 5, and 9. Now, the question was, what order?

She scrunched her eyes shut, running through the possibilities. Logic dictated that with those three numbers, there were only six possible combinations . . . . Might as well do some trial and error.

2 9 5. Mentally crossing her fingers, she looked across at the bay door. It didn’t budge. Okay, wrong sequence.

5 2 9. Still nothing.

9 2 5.

A grating sound filled the air as the bay door opened, and Alessa’s face broke into a smile a dusty sunlight came spilling into the service area. “I got it!” she hollered, racing back toward Sergeant Williams. “Come on, let’s get out of here!”

*found my missing posts*

(I've put this reply in like...5 times now. Each time it didn't work)

Mike backs up into the shadows of a back alley again, pushing Vanessa behind him. Once back around a corner and out of sight he squats down and starts thinking. There's gotta be a way around, or a way to distract them. What I wouldn't give for a decoy grenade. Or even a simple flash bang. Suddenly an idea hits him. He quickly starts casting around the back alley for some empty cans. He suspends the cans by threading his nylon rope from his backpack through as many cans as he can and then ties it off, making a loop of cans. He does all this very very slowly to avoid making too loud of a clanging noise, at least until he's ready for it to. He then throws the other end of the rope over a poll about 5 feet of the ground. He then backs away from the mechanism keeping his end of the rope taut so as to not let it fall. He runs out of rope at the corner where they had first seen the hordes, out of sight of the trick but only about 50 feet away.

He looks at Vanessa and whispers "Get ready to run." and then releases the rope, dropping the giant loop of cans and letting them crash to the ground making a hell of a noise.

Pulling the crowbar from under his shirt, Daniel walked to the house a few steps behind Andy. When they reached the door, he turned around to make sure they weren't about to be attacked unexpectedly. When he heard the door open and the girl take a few steps into the home, he backed up in behind her. When he was inside, he shut the door and turned back to her. "No, this is the only one I have."

Andy swore under her breath before heading back down the stairs towards him. "Okay, then lets make this quick. We'll clear the bottom floor first before heading upstairs." She paused, taking the rope from her backpack and wrapping it around the stairs, mid way, blocking it. It would be no problem to climb over if you were alive and alert, but she hoped it would stop any zombies moving in between the floors before they could clear them.

She moved back towards Daniel and held her arms out, pointing to the left and right. "Which way? I'll follow you Mr. Zombie Fighter." Why yes she did just give him a nick name.

Elvis ran through the kitchen, shotgun in hand, and passed the busy Frank. He jogged up the stairs and almost fell as he ran through the doorway to the bedroom. He looked at the spilled beer all over the floor and nightstand.

" Dammit! Why'd the zombies come now! They made me spill my beer! They're DEAD now!" Elvis said, not realizing the unintended pun left the room full of sadness. Elvis huffed and sighed all the way back down to the kitchen. He stared at Frank's back, he was still busy cleaning his shield.

"I'm gonna go wait in the car... I'll see if the damn radio works. We gotta get the hell outta here real fast. I trust you'll grab the beer in the fridge to bring along." Elvis went outside towards the car, on the way he stopped and got his newly edited jacket. He picked it up and put it on, it fit him almost exactly. He smirked, thinking about how good Frank was at this sorta thing. He touched the various parts of the jacket. He touched it, felt, rubbed it, hit it, flicked it, to make sure it was the real deal. He smiled, knowing not only did he look awesome, it could actually protect him. He went onward toward the car, picked up his backpack near the front right tire of the car. He slung the overly stuffed backpack full of "necessities" over his shoulder and entered the tank of a car. He was sitting in shotgun, backpack near his feet, and he was turning many knobs on the radio.

"Uh... technology... being so advanced and all..." he mumbled as he pathetically tried to turn on the radio, hitting every button and turning every knob but the right one.