Chilling over at the Armory

Subject: Chilling over at the Armory Sat May 31, 2008 4:28 am

The base was worst than empty. Had it simply been abandoned or demolished things would have been seen different, silent. Yet a chilly breeze picked up and the momentary fake illusion of peace was disturbed by that dreadful and disturbing moan or groan that came from the once living creatures that roamed the city streets. No, that ruled the once great Military base of Sagaku.

Along with those groans an occasional scream, gun shot or even crash from the surviving members in the base could be heard would be heard. But the young 5’4 girl who walked down the street never seemed to mind such noises. Instead she walked on, head held high, left hand resting carelessly on her hip right next to one of her nearly ammo free silver Desert Eagles, as she glanced around. There had been a radio transmission, and like most she had listened in to the rather annoying and repeating words that came forth from the small speaker of the transmitter she had taken from the long ago destroyed home.

Any normal human being with a heart would have responded to it, possibly even seek for the poor lost soul who had been desperate enough to lure even the enemy to them. But she walked on, blood stained from head to toe, giving the impression that nothing around her was going on. Almost as if life was going on just as it had been a few days before. Had someone stumbled across her at that moment they would have believed her to be one of “them” but she was far from that. The almost none caring style that she carried herself was far from the dragging movements the zombies had, and the constant
mumbles of frustration that left her lips as she kicked a rock out of her way were far to complicated for the moans of those creatures.

A yawn parted her rose pink lips, signs of the fatigue she suffered from more than 5 days without rest. Most would have gone delusional, given in to the wonderful coaxing danger of sleep, but she chose to walk on, living off the small scraps of food and water she came across. It had been days since she had encountered a human being that was not infected, in fact it could have been more than two weeks already, yet she held a form of hope. “Father…” she mumbled as once again she kicked the rock in her pathway. “Why have you done this to us…” she continued as she shook her head and sighed in disbelieve. Wondering where exactly her six remaining siblings could be.

Suddenly it became silent, a bit too silent. Her hand spent no more than milliseconds to pull out the two beautifully crafted silver Desert Eagles, and aimed straight at the source of the sound. Unlike other females there was no tremble in her hands and the accurate way in which she held the weapons could only mean military trained in some
way. Instantly the image she had portrayed only moments before was distorted.

The once none caring child took the stance of a true worrier ready to kill what came her way. With the Desert Eagles aimed perfectly, seeking their target only to find that there was nothing but a small red ball, which rolled its way to her feet and paused only a few centimeters away. “Cruel…” she sighed softly and slowly glanced back up to where the ball had come from, sure enough a child dragged itself from the shadows. The groans of the undead left her lips and the way she dragged her feet in that slow disgusting manner made Sakari roll her eyes.

There came no hesitation at all as her grip tightened on her left beauty in her hand and the bullet flew out in amazing speed. “BANG!” it cried as it rushed out of the Barrel and straight towards the head of that rotting child. With a rather wet and smashing sound the head of the child splattered all over the floor in a rather comical way. Had it been a runner things would have been different. That child would have had the upper hand on her, and besides. The world had turned in to a dog eat dog place, you had to do things to survive.

With a small shake of her head and a quick twirl of the gun with her index finger she slipped her beloved ones back in to the holster and smiled, once again beginning to walk in the most relaxed way possible. As if nothing at all had just happened on her way to the Armory.

Subject: Re: Chilling over at the Armory Mon Jun 02, 2008 4:14 pm

He was looking over his shotty with contempt as he pressed in a round. Things were not going anywhere near as well as he had hoped, the team had scattered, he was running low on food and water, and as he pressed in his third shotgun round his fingers found his bandolier empty. But if that wasn’t enough he had had a headache for the last four days and was running out of Excedrin faster then ammunition.

He stuffed the shotgun back into the quiver styled holster on his back and sighed as he patted the shortened Winchester at his thigh. She was not fairing to much better on ammo. Looks like here soon he would have to revert a few centuries and go for broke with blades. It was a good thing he had found them stashed in the truck he had stolen. With out those two ladies he would soon be in a world of hurt. But fortune always favors the brave right? At least it hade been a few days since he needed to kill a Zed. Well other then the gibby creature splattered around him. He knew when he reached for a weapon he should have pulled a blade. But when he rounded a corner and virtually walked into it he reached for fastest method. Once he was finished shaking his head at his own wasteful stupidity he started to move through town again quietly.

About twenty minutes later he had found a few fun signs in the road. And if they were right he might find help. Or at least a few rounds. He knew from personal experience that most army bases had become ghost towns. So he followed the handy road markers as he walked down the street. And once he got to the base he saw what he assumed he would, a total cluster-fuck traffic jam. Too many civvies wanted on for protection when the infections hit. However, some of those that got in were infected, and that caused absolute mayhem. So it was not surprising to see that what had happened on Carson had happened here as well. But back on Carson there were vehicles and weapons. He knew, he had been using those acquired items up until he got hit by the go gang and ran most of his weapons dry.

He slipped the Winchester out and started walking a bit lower to the ground so he would not be as much of a target. But he didn’t get any closer to the vehicles then he needed. Who knew how many Zeds waited in there still wearing the safety belts? He had seen it before and knew that he would see it again. After a quick survey of the debris field before him he decided to take a bold and far faster method of traversing it. Cocking the hammer back for easier firing he dashed like a Mad-man at the rear most car in the pileup. Once he got there it was square toe boot to fender and up. He cleared the roof in one-step and was jumping to the next car as he felt the vehicle shift under him.

Something was indeed in the passenger compartment of that first car, and he had barely escaped its reach when he leapt into the truck bed. This vehicle he knew for a fact was empty, but that had far more to do with the shattered glass and ripped off door. So he took time to pause and make sure the deader behind him was indeed strapped in.

Raising up the carbine in his hands he looked over the zombie fast. It might have been some looker before the blood, gore, and ripped out eye. Now it was just another Zed. But it was in fact a restrained Zed, which meant there was no need to waste the round yet. So he turned back around, and put boot through glass to get over the trucks cab. But as he stepped onto its roof for his new Birdseye view he heard gun fire. Just one round, but that was more then enough to know there was something out here that was not undead. And that got him moving the hell out of the open field faster then a French soldier could wave a white flag.

In great contradiction to lessons of life he should have learned by now, he actually sought out the gunshot. If it leads to a survivor that was great, unless they were some weird fascist NRA nut job. However if luck held through, and they were not another suicide giving up on rescue they might have food. HELL even if they were a suicide they might have food reserves. The psychological torture of being surrounded by Zeds was more then enough to drive any sane person off the edge.

It was at least another fifteen minutes before he got to a scene where the gun shot must have happened. It didn’t take but five more to learn the one round fired was a .50 cal handgun. His only real problem was that he found it sitting in the middle of the damned road so he had no idea which way the bleeding survivor had gone from there! Damned Murphy and his laws!

Reise slipped his gun into the waiting leather of the holster carefully and made certain there was nothing insight. He flipped his head a bit to get his hair out of his face and away form his right ear gently, then he reached up and very carefully slipped out the protective plug, and then he listened. How far could they have gone right?

Subject: Re: Chilling over at the Armory Mon Jun 02, 2008 7:33 pm

Bishop blinked as she heard the sound of a shotgun, twelve or fourteen gauge, she couldn't tell from here. Turning on her heel, she made for the sound, bringing the Machinen-Pistole 5 to her shoulder, flipping the safety off and bringing it to semi-auto. She sprinted lightly, finding herself confronted by two more of these damned undead. Not bothering with them, as they seemed terribly slow, she simply beat one with the foregrip of her MP5 and continued to book it.
She found her way to where she thought it had gone off, but nobody was there. It wasn't a good idea to stick around, either. She tried to remember her special forces training as best she could- namely tracking. Finding signs of someone being through here, she began to follow them, following as best she could, keeping low and moving as quick as she could. It was hard work after being locked up at a desk job in Hereford, but, this was what she lived for, right? Every soldier did, even if their best friend's died, they still moved on.
Soon, she also heard a pistol quite like her own, however, they sounded to be different than the hand-loaded rounds Sparky had been using in his, and she had reluctantly loaded into her baby. She found herself working harder to get to the scene, pumping her legs quickly, but keeping low. she found herself within a hundred meters of a man quickly enough, standing tall and as she saw him remove the ear-plug, she moved quickly and silently, bringing her MP5 to bear upon his head. Always be cautious, right? Flicking the laser-sight on that was hidden within the flashlight, a calming-blue sight appearing over his shoulder.
"Quiet!" She whispered as she neared five meters, "Not going to shoot unless you give me reason to, alright?" She said, bringing her eyes slowly across his form. Nothing was quite dead on him yet, so, was this the guy who was shooting? "Disarm, just to be safe." She said, looking around for anything coming towards them. <E>

Subject: Re: Chilling over at the Armory Wed Jun 04, 2008 9:59 pm

(((I recently found out through the “Psychic Administration Network” that Miss Asher is on a Vacation of some sort. I have informed Etna of my desire to continue on, since I too will be leaving on a week and a half for a bit, and was granted a thumbs up….)))

*As the plug was removed the world opened up exponentially. Sounds filtered from all around him and it almost made him shiver. Closing his eyes, he blocked out everything he could but sound. It took effort but he was listening past his heartbeat even though it thrummed through him. He heard soft footsteps, rushing towards him, but cautiously. Risking only a concealed sideways glance, he pretended to look up at the rooftops as if he was assuming a local sniper in the vicinity. If that was a zed rushing him it sure as hell had good curves, even under her cargos.

He took a split second to reach into his light headache and try to spur on a warning if one was needed. However, nothing came to him, in fact, his headache actually lessoned, which normally was a good sign right? he let her close in while he scanned the other direction. There was no need to tell her how easily he heard the thighs of her pants rubbing against each other; or the sounds of the occasion piece of either gravel, or minuet pieces of glass under both of their feet. It would only draw unneeded suspicion to him.

The only really good news involved in having a girl sighted on him and rushing forward was she spoke when she hit that “safety zone”, the unspoken range at when he would no longer have time to dive and draw easily to avoid a hastened Zed. And the breath he had been holding exited his lips with a soft sigh as he suppressed a giggle from her demands. He very calmly re placed his earplug and would raise both hands out away form his body in a very submissive motion while turning to face her.

If she didn’t order him to hold still while he took such clearly non hostile actions she would see the dark mirrored sunglasses that covered his eyes, and the spare pair of yellowed shooters glasses tucked into the neck of his olive green shirt. He would have winked but knew she wouldn’t see the motion anyways, and it might go over poorly when she was possibly trigger-happy. Trusting sarcasm would be meet with sarcasm he would answer honestly, if a bit crudely to her demand

“Look ummm . Tits. I hate to be a party pooper but the odds of you getting my guns is just as high as me offering to suck you off. So. Reevaluating your sexual equipment, what do you think the likely hood of me disarming is when you brought a party crasher?”

He would motion back the way she came from. Was there anything behind her? Yes. But it was more then a hundred meters back and a few corners away. Did Reise actually know that either of the Zeds she encountered were really headed this way slowly? No. But he was a really good bluffer, and since this city still held a decent walking corpse count he assumed his lie would work easily.

Subject: Re: Chilling over at the Armory Thu Jun 05, 2008 2:03 am

Bishop shifted, watching the male, "Smartass." She murmured. "If there was shit behind me, I believe it'd already be dead, or I'd just put a few more rounds in it when it got near." She shifted, slightly wary. What the fuck was he talking about anyhow? "The only thing I left behind was a subordinate, he's dead, the other ran off for my life, and I'm pretty sure the only thing we're going to hear from him is a Barrett he lifted off me." She said, and speak of the devil, the sound of a .50BMG ripped though the area, "Told ya." She winked. He was doing a good job, but, she couldn't help but feel her heart go out for the kid.
"Well..." She shifted popping out the magazine of her weapon and tapping him over the shoulder with it, "There, I'm disarmed aside from my pistol, now atleast lemme see what you have. And, are you the kid with the shoddy I hear awhile back?" It could've been somebody else, but this was the first person she had seen since becoming conscious. "Now, then, what're we to do? I believe we both heard those shots and I'm definetly sure it wasn't my baby cooking off, so, who the hell was it?" She said, looking back over her shoulder and wishing she had grabbed her XM8. She was getting that tingly feeling that said something was wrong. Every soldier had it, some better than others, 'specially that Sparky kid, but, he was probably going to die soon if he was using that Barrett. She sighed, "Listen, that kid is probably going to need our help, so, should we go help him?" She asked, a soft compassion in her voice.
((This is essentially it because if our charas do go after him, I think my bro will make him a character on here. I wonder if the admin are fine with that. o.o))

Subject: Re: Chilling over at the Armory Thu Jun 05, 2008 11:18 am

“ Yeah, yeah I am. “

He smiled as she continued speaking. She was cocky, just a little bit too self-assured, but hat was not always a bad thing. Well it wasn’t until you got over your head. As she brought up the missing man from her team Reise continued looking around, they were after all standing without any cover in the middle of the road, not the best place to be because any zed in a mile of them would be able to spot them if it had a strait sight line. Then the .50 cal went off and Reise cupped his ears, then shook his head while blinking a few times. That cannon was louder then his plugs could muffle by a good deal. And even if getting another team mate sounded promising being any where near that think when it went off sounded agonizing.

Once she tapped him with the mag he turned fully around to face her. he lifted his sunglasses up sliding them to rest in his dark brown hair. Kid was a very wrong statement about his age. Seeing him full on revealed him in his late twenties. And squinting through what he would consider bright afternoon sunlight she would catch glimpses of his soft grey eyes. After a few moments he pulled his shades back down to end the burning his eyes were feeling and he answered her questions in turn.

“Yeah, it was probably my shotgun you heard. But she is going out of style faster then the Macarena. I have three shells left. And one I would like to keep for myself. You know, just in case… My so-called side arm is a modded Winchester. And she ain’t doing to much better on life. I think I have about eight rounds, then I am down to getting close and personal…….. I don’t know who was firing. I know what they shot, but I haven’t figured out who it was. If you think we can help out your mate with the boom stick, then we should head his way before he runs out of rounds himself.”

Reise was about to motion for her to lead on when a polite thought actually entered his sleep deprived and lightly paranoid mind… what the hells was he gonna call her? where as “Tits” was a very fitting moniker for her because of the ample cleavage hidden from sight, it was a bit rude, and eventually he bet she would smack him for it. So with arm raised in mid motion he cocked his head to the side and spoke again.

“One quick Q, what’s your name love? my parents call my Reise, and my team used to call me Seven. You can use either, I won’t care. But unless you like me pointing out your superiority over average gals, ya might want to offer me a handle at the very least.”

((( I dont think they would care, as long as he doesnt have the ubber Gun-o-Doom anymore. They are kinda tryin' to crack down on our firepower.. Which is of course why I have so few rounds.... )))

Number of posts : 8 Skill Points : Registration date : 2008-06-02

Three close together shots went off, and Bishop shifted, looking back. "Hmm, I'd say go through there, but, that kid..." She said, drawing her attention away. Taking the mag back, she popped it into the MP5, "Best get moving, and, the name's Bishop." She said, trying to remember anything about a man called Seven from her time spent in Rainbow and other military services.

The shots went off, so close together like they were a Browning MG. Sparky smirked as a line of the damned things hit the ground. He had better marksmanship back when he was dealing with killing political members. Shifting against the weight of his G36 and it's fully loaded drum mag, the sling eating into his shoulder. "Hurts like a bitch..." He murmured and closed his eyes, opening them again and bringing the left to the scope of the long rifle. "Motherfuckers..." He shifted, bringing out what Yip had called "That Shocky Feelin' " essentially, it was his spacial awareness, focused out to monitor a specific location. Normally, he could work this within a few meters of his body, more or less, but, when a position was within his sight, he could easily tell the range, windage, and other things out to that point. However, he lost all perception aside from that and hearing, unable to focus on anything else. Bringing his sense back to his own form, he shivered as he felt something entered the area near him. Turning about, he brought the Barrett from it's rest and took the scope off, capping it off and bagging it into a large pants pocket. "Fuck..."

She watched the male, "Nothing other than the shotgun..." Hmmph, that wouldn't do, but, she hardly trusted the MP5. It was based on a good rifle, and was quite accurate, but, she still didn't like it. Beginning a soft jog that broke into a run. That sense of wrongness was getting worse with the other's danger, that link as a commander was there, and it was beginning to affect the man.

"Bring it on ya mofos..." He said, lowering into a crouch as he felt more surround him. Exiting the room that he had made into a makeshift post, he wondered just quite what Yip's CO was doing. Hopefully, not coming here, because he only had two mags for the Barrett, a mag for his G36, and a C-mag from Bishop's M8. Between the G36 and the M8, everything but the body-kits were acceptable on either gun. Normally, he'd use his pistol, but only a mag for that, plus one in the chamber. This was what he lived for, though, that sense of danger, his life in danger. Something inside him, most likely his genetic memory, yearned for a bow to be in his hands, but the rifle was just as good for now. Moving to the staircase, he shifted as he felt the presence of another so nearby. Bringing the Barrett to his shoulder, he hoped and prayed to god that whatever the fuck this was wouldn't even need a bullet. It hardly even showed up to him, only it's movement was it's only marker, so, was that a good thing?

That run made it into a sprint as she neared the quarter mile mark, and she could almost smell the cordite from here. Was that just her, or her connection with the boy? He had saved her life(Thrice) now it was time to pay him back. "C'mon, Sparks, another shot, c'mon, lemme know where you are..." She whispered to herself, trying to make it look like she still had confidence in the other's being live and kicking.

Subject: Re: Chilling over at the Armory Sun Jun 08, 2008 7:10 pm

Three rapid shots, and one very long flinch later, Reise was becoming quickly aware of how bad it really might be in this city. Either the “Kid” found a horde, or was wasting his ammo for personal giggles. Neither was exactly what Reise wanted to deal with while carrying 12 rounds in total. If the kid hit a horde then a .50 cal was useless, though any sniper should know such a big assed gun was going to be a waste with in a city. A well placed .22 was just as efficient taking down Zeds. Sure, they did not have a two-mile range, but a two-mile sight line in town was going to be rare anyways.

“Sounds like the kid either is wasting his rounds, or is getting in deep.”

There was little chance Bishop would know much, if any thing about him or the ghost project. It was entirely need to know, and under cover for its existence. And when everything went to shit they scattered like the four winds. They might have been a really good team had they stuck together. But then again one of the side effects was that none of the ghost seemed to enjoy taking any ones orders, and pro longed exposure to each other made them angry. It was not genetic; it was the level of arrogance in most of the team.

As he waited for the split second for her to choose to go after whomever it was or not he rolled his shoulders inside his coat, straining lightly against the quiver styled holster where his shotgun rested. Then right before he followed in the light jog he clipped the safety strap over the sawed off Winchester on his right thigh. With her in the lead he was not worried about using guns. She would fire first, and he had no problem letting her burn some rounds if she had them. He was more then happy to wait for melee range for the very large curved blades on his lower back to become useful.

As they hit the quarter mile mark Reise was still right behind her, and that did not change as she started sprinting. His sense of smell was telling him Death was near. But with the air fairly stagnant he did not know where it had wafted from. However after traveling with “Three” for a few weeks during the Sudan trek, he had a few good ideas of where another sniper would want to set up shop. Nevertheless, he was going to let Bishop lead on. It was her teammate, therefore they should have had similar training, and experience.

“Bishop, you got any new ideas about his twenty? I would rather not be on ground level all day when its obvious we are running TOWARDS the Zeds.”

Subject: Re: Chilling over at the Armory Tue Jun 10, 2008 11:00 pm

Sparks twitched, something was wrong with the Barrett. He didn't *know* but, it was there. Dropping the rifle, he unholstered his sidearm, twitching slightly as more creatures entered the complex. Slipping down the stairs, he would probably have to loop by the chopper, but, he had no way of telling whether or not Bishop was still there, and he was about to raise some hell. After dropping down one flight of stairs, he brought up his pistol and fired once, decapitating the creature. He winced at the sound, his ears ringing. REaching into his pocket, he planted in-ear headphones quickly, and even took the time to begin playing music from them, after all, if you're going to either die here or close by, you better die with your blood pumping, right?
God, there were going to crowd his exit... He thought as he "felt" for the way to exit, both of them ground-level.The only reason he hadn't seen more is that the idiots had gotten themselves stuck. Two options, either A: climb to the roof and be faced with long jumps that he didn't feel he could make with his H&K slung about his back. The only other option was jumping, and, the second story wasn't that bad of a drop, if he found something to land on. Busting into an apartment, he pushed a couch into the doorway, remebering one thing: Delay them so you can take them out. He had nearly emptied that drum on the way over(To comply with those damn admins.) Unslinging it and holstering the pistol, he checked, thanking god that Bishop had made sure it was a clear-back. Twenty-five to thirty-five. That wasn't bad, but, still. Ramming the stock of the rifle into a window over a fire-escape, he looked, nothing to land on except on the very end of the building: A nice truck that meant he would barely have to drop two meters. Good, but, his luck was waning. Hearing the groan of these damned creatures, he decided to make a little more of a barricade: with bodies. Bringing the rifle to his shoulder and sighting in upon the door, he waited.
Fast movers were the first there, and he popped one in the head, causing it to backflip and land upon it's back. There, that was a good start. Another leap through, and he shot this one in the stomach, making it land on the couch half-way. Firing again to make sure it was dead, another leapt through. he tapped the trigger twice, it landed onto the others, and now, the mildly-retarded ones were coming, attempting to scramble atop the small barricade, not quite like a coffee table slammed there... Actually... He slung the rifle and watched the door-way, leaning the coffeetable over and to stand tall upon it's legs, various glasses and whatnot sliding off and breaking. He winced at the feeling, even twitched slightly: that power of his wasn't exactly the best. Aligning it with the doorway, he picked it up and ran it into the bodies, propping it between the couch and the ceiling of the hall. Backing up and crossing his arms, he smirked. Ajusting the sling on his rifle so that it was tight against his back, heslipped out and then got atop the railing for the escape, waiting to run.
"Five...Four...Three...Two...One..." He said, amazingly managing to keep balance as he started, feeling for his center of gravity and keeping it on the small line. Making a two-meter leap easily, he kept on, making one more before jumping off to the truck. Forcing himself to keep a deep-breathing process like he learned whilst running cross-country. Jumping down to the hood of the truck, then leaping off the end of that, he booked it, unholstering his pistol and taking a point-blank shot at a slow mover. That shot would ring out over the place, finding it's way to the ears of two people coming to find him...

Subject: Re: Chilling over at the Armory Sat Jun 28, 2008 7:12 pm

As she spotted the slightly small figure on the horizon, she smirked, "Speak of the devil, and the little bastard will appear." She paused, tilted her head and looked back to the man, "Now, now, it doesn't take much to kill these bastards, besides, I can use my pistol if you're too scared to use that Shoddy, you know how to handle an MP5?" She asked, looking back to the kid, and seeing him sprint to their position, "Well, shit, I say grab a truck, take what we can, and drive to the epicenter of all the radio chatter." She notioned to a large tower slightly on the horizon with her head. "In the mean time, I'm probably going to have to change the caliber on this pistol..." She looked to it and sighed, knowing that that would mean looping around to the chopper... That would mean grabbing her M8.
Turning about on her heel, she would look to Reise, "How about this: I toss you this MP5, run around this base and grab a crate of Light NATO rounds, as much as I can for that shoddy, and you skitter off and hotwire a truck when that kid gets close." She winked, "Deal...?" She smirked slightly, then sighed, knowing that she would have to deny herself from using the M8 even if she got it back, ammo wasn't common, but, other, lighter caliber weapons are easy to come across.
((Tiny, yes, I know, but, what else can I put down? >.> ))

Subject: Re: Chilling over at the Armory Tue Jul 01, 2008 12:49 pm

Reise smiled as one more gunshot rang out telling him which way the “kid”
was going to be coming from. And pausing like she did only left him shaking her head a bit at her remarks. Fear. HA he had dealt with things far worse then a few Zeds recently. Hell that was how he lost the AK, and the Colt’s, but someone had to slow down the efforts of those anarchists. Besides that was how he got the Winchester, and she was one hell of a beauty. The shotgun had a bit more, solemn, and dishonest story. That weapon was found on a freshly bitten person. But hey at least when Reise killed them he made certain they would not have to worry about ever reaching the slow, uncoordinated Zombie stage right?

As he rubbed his head a bit form her words he spoke quietly, he did not mean to be rude, but his tone was an annoyed one. She was questioning an advance recon, black ops team member about his proficiency with a firearm, what in deed was the world coming to. Oh well no need to explain things to her she did not need to know. And that of course included both his past, and the genetic experimentation. For now he might as well play the idiot

“There is no fear of the weapon. Just not having one when I really need it. The shotgun has three shells. That’s it. The Winchester I think I have eight. You should save your rounds. A lot of this place seems pretty well looted, but I did see an ad for a gun store back in town, I just did not bother checking it out. I was hoping to find something more like what I was used to out here before I went hunting for rounds. However since there are about to be three of us, I bet we can cover most of a store while we raid it for supplies.”

With that said, he moved over to a nearby Ford and looked her over. Once it belonged to one of the men or women stationed here. It was in fairly good condition for its age, and was unmolested after the panic that happened. No doubt, its owner never had a chance to think about self-evacuating. With a sigh he puts his shotgun through the window on the passenger side and then cleans the broken glass out of his way so he can unlock the door. Then climbing through he opens the drivers door and gets started on hot-wiring the vehicle

After about thirty seconds, the engine sputtered twice, and then started up a little bit rough. But smoothed our fairly well. Then with a grin he unlocked the drivers side door and stepped up onto the step rail and looked over the trucks roof as he smiled and looked at both Bishop, and the nearly here kid? OH GODS he thought when she called him kid it meant eighteen not fifteen. Well, in this world gone undead everyone should be armed right? oh well the more the merrier.

“Come on lets get out of here before your friends find us again. The signs say the armory was north of here somewhere”