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Post by Generalfoley on Aug 22, 2011 19:44:47 GMT -7
Joe was leaning against the front of his Jeep, the map spread on the hood. He took a bite out of his sandwich, marking out several places of interest on the map. He looked at the mil-spec computer he had taken from the SAS base, hooked up into a few satellites still in orbit. Well, he needed codes, but he was very, very good with computers. The fact that he had lifted the codes off of the Intelligence officer the second day of their stay helped out quite a bit.
Taking a sip of his beer, he looked at the city that was once Canterbury. His gaze wandered to his partner's new trailer for his Mack. He couldn't fathom why Mike wanted the trailer, other than having a workshop and a living space. It just made them a bigger target, and made it harder to move through the cities. Joe shrugged. It wasn't like he had a right to complain. He had used Mike's workshop for his gunsmithing need, having put on beaver tails to his pistols, along with some tactical rails underneath the barrels for flashlights. He glanced at Mike before returning to his map. Early on, Joe got rid of his vest, taking his jacket back. It wasn't the logistical problems (i.e. being shot at), but just the weight of the thing, along with his bandolier and sword, kinda screwed with his fighting style.
Looking at Mike, he motioned the Swede over to the map. He pointed at a red circle, taking the red Sharpie out of his mouth. "We're hitting this place first, the Library. It's got books, and it's also got shiny things to collect, so it's a win win for both of us. But there's a catch," Joe pointed at the computer screen, having zoomed in enough to see slight movement, like a germ under a microscope. "There's a lot of zombie activity there, mostly commons but quite a few sprinters have made their way through as well."
Pointing to another spot on the map, Joe took a sip of his beer. "Over here is an old Internet Provider company's building, built into an old Cop Shop, so there should be some tools and stuff there for us to take up before moving on."
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Post by God Mike on Aug 25, 2011 0:03:07 GMT -7
Mike grinned to himself as he hooked his spray can to his backpack, having just put the finishing touches to the freakin' hot zombie chick he'd just painted on the side of his freakin' awesome new trailer. Joe didn't like the fact that he'd claimed the trailer as his new home, but hey, it was a freaking workshop, bedroom, and living room, all wrapped into one giant piece of awesome.
Mike nodded to himself as he looked over the hot zombie chick. Man, if all the zombies looked like her, he'd let them bite him. He laughed at that line of thought, shaking his head and turning away from the drawing, but not before blowing her a kiss. Hell yeah, the Zombie Mack looked freaking awesome now. It would look much better once they got somewhere quiet where he could give it the Zombie Slayer Treatment.
Looking to Joe, who was looking over a map, he noticed that the Irishman was waving him over. He shook his head as he walked over to his partner. Beer and sandwich? Is there anything an Irishman wouldn't drink alcohol to?
"We're hitting this place first, the Library. It's got books, and it's also got shiny things to collect, so it's a win win for both of us. But there's a catch," Joe said as he pointed at the screen of the strange-looking computer he'd stolen from the SAS guys. "There's a lot of zombie activity there, mostly commons but quite a few sprinters have made their way through as well."
Mike hummed, looking over the screen, as Joe pointed at another circle on the map. "Over here is an old Internet Provider company's building, built into an old Cop Shop, so there should be some tools and stuff there for us to take up before moving on."
"Ah, question..." Mike said, still staring at the screen. Slowly, he raised his hand to point at a four-way intersection not too far from the library Joe had talked about. On it was something humanoid, running on all fours. It was bigger than the rest of the zombies. Whereas a zombie was just a dot on the screen, this one was like five dots lumped together. Like the Hulk had suddenly gone zombie. "What the hell is that?"
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Post by Generalfoley on Aug 25, 2011 0:54:56 GMT -7
"Ah, question..." Joe 'hmm'd', having gone back to the map. He took another bite of his sandwich before following Mike's hand to the thing he was pointing at on screen. Joe leaned in, swallowing his sandwich as the Hulk-ish humanoid being shifted under the satellite view. "What the hell is that?" Joe typed in a few commands on the computer, targeting the thing while zooming in. Unfortunately, he hadn't figured out how to enhance the image of a live feed to a better quality, but he took a screenshot, being able to enhance a still frame.
Several keystrokes later, Joe and Mike were staring at what looked to be a bald, over-muscular gorilla. With Jumper teeth. And muscle deterioration. From the way he saw it run, it was almost as if it was limping while running, like it had been undead for some time. "That," Joe jabbed the air with his finger as he pointed at the screen. He visibly deflated as he let out a breath, putting his arm down. "That is something that, for once, I've no idea what to call." The Irishman shrugged as he sipped at his beer.
"But I'll tell you one thing," Joe said, taking off the screenshot and putting it back on the live feed. "That looks to be one big fucker." Taking another sip of his beer, Joe typed in a few more commands into the computer, switching the view to a black and white thermal view. What Joe saw made him choke on his beer. He pounded his chest as he coughed, looking back at the screen. The Internet firm building was white hot, mostly with it's computers and the server room. Joe shook his head, and closed the computer. He didn't need to worry about it unless they were directly involved. Taking out a cable from the computer, Joe walked over to the driver's side of the Jeep, taking down the satellite dish he had set up for better reception.
Having packed everything up, Joe walked around his truck, jumping into the bed and laying down amongst his bags. Unbuttoning his holsters, he kept his hands on the handles of his Glocks. "Imma gonna catch some shut-eye for a few minutes. Holler if anything happens."
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Post by God Mike on Aug 25, 2011 15:46:25 GMT -7
"That," Joe said as he pointed at the enhanced image of the Hulk zombie. That was not something Mike would have liked to run into in a dark alley... "That is something that, for once, I've no idea what to call." Mike hummed in agreement, staring down at the image.
"But I'll tell you one thing," Joe said, removing the image from the screen, "That looks to be one big fucker." Mike grunted in agreement, while Joe worked his techno magic on the computer. Mike wasn't exactly interested, and instead started looking over the city in the distance. Joe choked on his beer over something, and that was pretty foreboding, but if Mike didn't look, he didn't risk getting scared.
"Imma gonna catch some shut-eye for a few minutes. Holler if anything happens."
"Sure thing," Mike said, looking back to see that Joe had folded the map and put away the computer, having gone to lay down in the bed of the Wrecker. Smiling to himself, Mike walked over to the Mack and climbed up on the top of the trailer, taking out a whetstone and his .50 cal revolver. Humming a tune that made no sense whatsoever, he got to work sharpening the blade he'd attached to the underside of the revolver.
For about half an hour, Mike sat on the trailer, bored out of his mind. Just as he was performing some very complicated action movie moves with his swords, he froze suddenly, hearing something. Quick as a flash, he sheathed his swords and pulled his revolvers, listening for any other noise.
Nothing...
"Damn brain, playing tricks on me..." Mike muttered as he holstered his revolvers again. Then, the trailer shooks as a thud was heard behind him, accompanied by a hiss. Slowly, Mike turned around, and found himself staring at a Jumper, who was hissing and sniffing, seemingly looking right at Mike.
Slowly, Mike moved his hand to his .50 cal. "HOLLER!" he yelled suddenly, pulling his revolver and aiming at the Jumper, who leapt at him. He managed to squeeze off a shot just as the Jumper slammed into him, knocking both of them off the trailer, slamming hard into the ground.
Mike groaned as he lay on the ground, with the unmoving Jumper on top of him. Grunting, he pushed it off, but immediately grew alarmed. Right where the Jumper's mouth had been, by his left shoulder, his jacket had a tear in it.
"Oh no..." Mike muttered as he slowly unzipped his jacket. Moving it away from his shoulder, feeling his heart pumping faster and faster, he gave a sigh of relief when he found that the jacket was the only thing the Jumper's teeth had torn. They hadn't pierced his skin. "Oh, thank the gods..."
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Post by Generalfoley on Aug 25, 2011 16:36:26 GMT -7
"HOLLER!" Joe stirred until he heard the report of Mike's fifty. Reflexively pulling out a Glock, he aimed to his left, then his right, then upwards, before Joe heard Mike land on the ground. He looked over to the sound, and saw Mike pushing off the corpse of a Jumper, now lacking jaws and a brain. The Irishman sighed, holstering his pistol. Well, that was clo-
"Oh no..." Joe looked at Mike's shoulder, seeing the tear in his jacket. He lowered his hand to his right holster, unbuttoning it. He placed a hand on his Glock, squeezing the grip of the weapon tightly, his finger turning white from the pressure he was putting on the trigger guard. He didn't want to, but he would feed Mike the bullet himself if he was infected; no one should go through that process, dying only to join the living dead. It wasn't right.
Joe let out a breath of relief as he saw that the Jumper only tore the jacket. No wound, no infection. He let go of his weapon, shaking his hand out; it cramped from the pressure he had put on it. "Oh, thank the gods..." Joe had to agree with that. Sighing, he walked over to the Jeep, scratching his beard. Looking in the side mirror, he saw that he needed a shave. Badly. Taking out his knife and some shaving cream, he began to shave off the five o' clock shadow that had grown out since he met Mike. After a few minutes, he washed the remaining cream off, and ran a bare hand across his face. Much better. Sheathing his knife, Joe popped the cooler open, and took out a bottle of water, unscrewing the top. The Irishman took a gulp, sighing in relief afterwards. Looking at his Swedish friend, he took out another bottle of water, and shook it a little in his hand.
"Want one?"
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Post by God Mike on Aug 30, 2011 18:51:21 GMT -7
Mike noticed something when Joe started shaving. He'd been holding his gun, ready to put one in Mike's head... What a bastard. His intentions may have been pure, but what the hell? If he got infected, Mike would put one in his own head. No one was allowed to kill Mike. Except for Mike himself, of course. Or Erik, but as Mike and Erik were the same people, that didn't really make a difference.
"Want one?"
Mike, still a bit shaken from his close call, took the water bottle and opened it, gulping it down quickly. He looked over Joe's face and shook his head. "You know, that's gotta be the most uneven shave I have ever seen," he commented as he took off his backpack, opening it and digging around in it. Smiling, he took out a straight razor that he picked up in... er... New York, he believed, and tossed it to Joe. "Try that one. A knife could never get the same results as a straight razor."
Putting on his backpack again, Mike looked over Canterbury, or what was left of it, leaning against the Mack and crossing his arms. "Alright, so how do we do this, then?" he asked. He still hadn't fixed the new tires onto the Mack. Those were going to be a surprise, with the purpose of blowing Joe's mind with the epicness of it all. He had 'borrowed' eight wheels from a Hemmet 8WD. It was abandoned in London, so it would've been a waste not to take them. Currently, they were hidden in the trailer, with the new suspension and drive shaft and all the other parts needed to make the Zombie Mack the ultimate all-terrain vehicle.
"I don't know about you, but I don't wanna run into that big Fucker we saw, so how about we just go straight through Canterbury, with as few stops as possible?"
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Post by Generalfoley on Aug 30, 2011 20:31:22 GMT -7
"You know, that's gotta be the most uneven shave I have ever seen," Joe looked back in the mirror after handing Mike the water bottle, running a hand over his face. It felt alright to him. He turned to the Swede to retort, only to catch a precariously thrown straight razor. "Try that one. A knife could never get the same results as a straight razor." Joe sighed, flipping out the razor. Might as well. Putting on more shaving cream, he slowly shaved off any stiff hairs that were left over.
"Alright, so how do we do this, then?" Joe shrugged before he went back to shaving. He honestly didn't like the look of the creature they saw, since it looked like it could pulverize the Wrecker, flip the Mack, and kill them both. Then shit on their corpses, if zombies had the digestive tract to do so. "I don't know about you, but I don't wanna run into that big Fucker we saw, so how about we just go straight through Canterbury, with as few stops as possible?" Joe shrugged again, pouring some water in his hands. He splashed his face with the water, rinsing off the excess shaving cream. After drying his face with a towel, he ran a bare hand against his smooth face, grinning. "You're right. Smoother." It was then he came up with an idea. Though he was sure Mike wouldn't like it.
Handing the razor back to the ninja, he climbed up to the roof of the cabin, sitting down. "We could always hide the Wrecker and the Mack, go in on foot." He looked at the city. "It would be easier to maneuver through the buildings, and let's face it, we're both better on our feet than in our vehicles." Joe drank a bit more water before he looked back at Mike. "In our trucks, we don't have as much room if we get into trouble. It's either 'back up, drive on, left or right'. On our feet, we can duck into a building, we can throw ourselves out of the way, we can even climb up to a rooftop and jump across the city. On foot, we can move with almost unlimited freedom." Pulling out a pack of cigarettes, he took out a smoke and lit the end. Puffing, he put the pack away, relaxing a bit.
"And we can avoid the big Fucker easier if we go on foot. We don't know how it perceives it's surroundings, if it uses sound and smell like a Jumper or can just see us like a normal zombie can." Joe thought about the name, That Fucker. That would certainly ring up the appearance. Blowing out smoke out of his nose, he looked at Mike.
"So, go in on foot, get some shit, and get out? It seems like a good plan, considering our skills." He took another draught of the ice cold water before throwing the bottle into a trash back in the bed of the Wrecker.
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Post by God Mike on Aug 30, 2011 20:42:39 GMT -7
"You're right. Smoother." Mike grinned proudly as he took back the razor from his friend, pocketing it. He noticed something, a look on Joe's clean-shaven face. It was that 'I am going to say something that will get you injured, killed, or zombiefied, and you won't be able to do anything but agree to it' look. It was the look Mike hated...
"We could always hide the Wrecker and the Mack, go in on foot." Yep, there is was. "It would be easier to maneuver through the buildings, and let's face it, we're both better on our feet than in our vehicles." Mike clicked his tongue, crossing his arms again. "In our trucks, we don't have as much room if we get into trouble. It's either 'back up, drive on, left or right'. On our feet, we can duck into a building, we can throw ourselves out of the way, we can even climb up to a rooftop and jump across the city. On foot, we can move with almost unlimited freedom."
"I knew it," Mike muttered, looking up at the sky with a look of resignation on his face, "I'm gonna get eaten, beaten, or shot... Knowing my luck, there are probably some Deliverance freaks down there, with every intention to ass rape me into oblivion..."
"And we can avoid the big Fucker easier if we go on foot. We don't know how it perceives it's surroundings, if it uses sound and smell like a Jumper or can just see us like a normal zombie can." Joe didn't seem to take into account the face that this zombie seemed to be able to cross distances in four seconds that Joe and Mike couldn't cross in under ten... "So, go in on foot, get some shit, and get out? It seems like a good plan, considering our skills."
"You know, this is very strange," Mike muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets with a thoughtful look on his face. "You come up with the routes, you come up with the plans, you come up with all the crazy shit we get into, yet I'm almost always the one who gets injured by these plans of yours," he said, now taking on a confused look, scratching the back of his head. "Yet I always seem to go along with the plans..."
Mike hummed, then looked up at Joe, realization shining in his eyes. "I think I might be a, uh, a little insane."
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Post by Generalfoley on Aug 30, 2011 22:42:41 GMT -7
"You know, this is very strange," Joe puffed on his smoke again. "You come up with the routes, you come up with the plans, you come up with all the crazy shit we get into, yet I'm almost always the one who gets injured by these plans of yours," Joe shrugged. "It isn't my fault that you can't move fast enough." It was a joke, and he knew Mike knew it. Mike was plenty fast, he was just a bad luck magnet. "Yet I always seem to go along with the plans..." Joe raised an eyebrow. "So this is a yes to my plan?"
Joe saw the realization in Mike's eyes come forth, and chuckled. "I think I might be a, uh, a little insane." More chuckles came forth. A little? Joe shook his head as he blew out smoke. He jumped down, pulling out the map he rolled up and stored under his seats. He rolled it out against the hood, pointing at a small patch of green a mile outside the city.
"We can hide the Mack and the Wrecker in this forest here. It's large enough, and dense enough, to hide them both, with enough room to get them out in a hurry." He took out his pen, and circled the forest, before drawing a line to the city. "From there, we can head into the city, and get some good loot along the way." He capped the marker, and rolled up the map, snapping on some rubber bands and stuffing it back behind the seats. He climbed halfway into the truck, hanging onto the door with a grin on his face. "You ready to roll out?" He wasn't going to say 'rock and roll'. That was just stupid.
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Post by God Mike on Sept 1, 2011 18:53:28 GMT -7
"So this is a yes to my plan?"
Mike sighed. He was gonna get shot, he just knew it... He was always the one who got shot when they follow Joe's plans. If Mike was asked for proof that winging it was always better than plans, all he needed to do was point at Joe... "Yeah, alright..." he muttered, shaking his head. "Let's do this."
Mike walked over to the Wrecker as Joe took out the map again, rolling it out on the hood. "We can hide the Mack and the Wrecker in this forest here. It's large enough, and dense enough, to hide them both, with enough room to get them out in a hurry." Already, the plan was starting to sound like Joe didn't have all too much faith in it, proof that Mike was gonna get shot... "From there, we can head into the city, and get some good loot along the way."
"Alright, alright," Mike muttered as he walked over to the Mack, climbing into it and reloading his .50 cal. Wouldn't do to run around with only two bullets in it. Three was always better than two.
"You ready to roll out?"
Mike stared at Joe... And stared... And stared... And stared... And stared... Roll out? He palmed his face, then gave Joe a patronizing look. "Yes, Optimus, I'm ready to roll out. Just waiting for Bumblebee to get his lemony ass over here... Channel 3," he said as he set the radio. "Let's rock n' roll!"
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Post by Generalfoley on Sept 7, 2011 0:09:40 GMT -7
"Yes, Optimus, I'm ready to roll out. Just waiting for Bumblebee to get his lemony ass over here... Channel 3," Joe chuckled as he nodded, getting into the Wrecker. He turned on the CB and switched the channel to three. Switching on the ignition, the engine roared to life, Joe switching on the headlights. It was getting cloudy out, dark clouds forming on the horizon.
"Let's rock n' roll!" Joe chuckled again as he drove past the Zombie Mack, leading the way to the small forest. Finding his MP3, Joe switched the music to something he thought was rather iconic for this little drive. Playing 'Magika' by Two Steps From Hell through the outer speakers, he smiled as he drove across the grassy plains outside of Canterbury. Thunder boomed overhead, and Joe looked up at the clouds. The weather was moving faster than he thought. He picked up his CB as he led Mike into the forest, down a trail that was once well traveled. Not anymore, it seemed.
"Well, there's a bright side to this weather," He said, puffing on his cigarette. "It'll mask our scent if there are any Jumpers, and help hide us if there are any shooters." It had started to rain now. It was still light, which was good. They would be able to get to the city without being soaked to the bone. Probably. The thunder boomed again as Joe looked ahead at the clearing, their destination.
Parking at the entrance, Joe put the Jeep in Park, and switched off the ignition. Joe reached over and opened the glove compartment, taking out his Boonie hat and a heavy duty flashlight. He jumped out of the truck, throwing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it out before he reached into the back and pulled out his bag. Reaching back into the cabin, Joe pulled out his rifle, making sure it was loaded. He looked over to his friend, and slung the rifle over his shoulder.
"I suggest you bring the shotgun," Joe said, putting on his hat. "You'll never know if you need it." With that, Joe took out another cigarette and lit it, if only to help him calm his nerves. Even if he made the plans, he didn't like the fact that this storm had appeared. It was a bad omen. He had stuffed his gas mask in his bag earlier, in reach if he ever needed it.
Joe waved Mike over. "Let's get going before the storm gets worse."
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Post by God Mike on Sept 7, 2011 0:30:02 GMT -7
Mike was singing and humming a song of his own making as he followed the Wrecker. It didn't really mean anything. It actually sounded more like, "Homphanana, boomba loombanana, shoomfalana," and so on. He was really getting bored, honestly. Either that, or he was so terrified after his near-death experience that his mind was trying to do something to get over it. He snorted. "Yeah, right!"
"Well, there's a bright side to this weather," Joe said after thunder boomed. Mike looked out, to see storm clouds rolling in fast. Ominous... "It'll mask our scent if there are any Jumpers, and help hide us if there are any shooters." They could still back out and just head straight through Canterbury. There was still time.
Mike rolled to a stop next to the Wrecker and killed the engine, sighing. He was gonna get shot... he knew it... Shot, or eaten... Preferably shot... "Ah well, nothing to do about that, I guess..." he muttered to himself as he put on his backpack, then climbed out of the Mack.
"I suggest you bring the shotgun," Joe said, putting on his silly little hat. "You'll never know if you need it."
Mike clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Silly Joe, I always bring the shotgun," he said, scoffing. "Who the hell doesn't bring a shotgun when there's a chance of running into zombies? You can't have a zombie movie without a shotgun. Common knowledge, man."
"Let's get going before the storm gets worse."
Yeeeeees! Comedy time! Puffing his cheek out as if he had a large amount of tobacco stuffed in it, Mike hiked up his pants and sniffed, staring up at the clouds through a narrowed right eye. "Yep, storm's comin'. Gon' rain pretty heavily soon, I reckon," he said, pretending to spit out a wad of tobacco spit. "We should be gettin' to the big city soon, boy."
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Post by Generalfoley on Sept 12, 2011 2:17:51 GMT -7
Why, oh why did Joe say that? He should've known he was setting himself up for a joke. But noooooooooo, he just had to say that. "Yep,storm's comin'. Gon' rain pretty heavily soon, I reckon. We should be gettin' to the big city soon, boy." Joe sighed, putting his goggles around his neck. He didn't need them at the moment, seeing as the dust in the city was being dampened down quite a bit. Thunder roared again over their heads, and Joe sighed. He puffed on his cigarette again, blowing smoke out of his nose as he started through the side of the forest. That side was the thinnest side of the forest.
"Come on, ya damned Madman," Joe said as he took another drag, smoke pouring out of his nose. "Let's get in before the rain gets heavier, and one of us gets struck down by lightning." Joe stared at Mike for this, grinning. If God existed, then they both knew who he would strike down first. Joe laughed as he walked on, jumping over logs and taking it easy sliding down the short cliffs.
It was an hour before they arrived at the edge of the city. Joe pulled a digital camera with a long aperture out of his bag, zooming in on the city. He found that using a camera was better than a pair of binoculars, due to the amount of things he could do with one. Seeing an opportunity, he took a picture before unscrewing the aperture and replacing it with a shorter one. He looked over to Mike.
"Well," Joe said, putting the camera away. "I can't see any zombies, but that doesn't mean there aren't any," Joe took out another cigarette, and lit it up. His last had been put out twenty minutes ago, and he was still nervous. This was probably the first time they had been outside their vehicles for any extensive period of time for going into a city. "The library is right around the corner of the street, then the Internet Provider building is right there," Joe pointed at the tall building right ahead of them. The Irishman looked up as bird fluttered into the sky, a loud, Tyrannosaurus-esque roar echoing throughout the city. It sounded far away, but he couldn't tell.
"Let's get moving before that Z-Rex comes running for us." Joe said, walking towards the street.
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Post by God Mike on Sept 12, 2011 2:35:52 GMT -7
"Come on, ya damned Madman," Joe said, and Mike laughed. Joe could say whatever he wanted, but he knew deep down that Mike's carefree, joking attitude was a blessing. It added some measure of light to these dark times. "Let's get in before the rain gets heavier, and one of us gets struck down by lightning."
Mike froze for a second when he heard that, seeing Joe looking right at him. Yeah, if lightning decided to strike, it would no doubt hit Mike... Then, a thought came to him as he slid backwards down a small, wet cliff, taking great joy in showing off his amazing sense of balance and skill. "Hey, what do you think that feels like, anyway?" he asked curiously, flipping over a fallen log. "I think it tickles. Well, not the strike itself, but your body would probably tingle for at least a week afterward."
An hour later, after much jumping and styling, and many bad jokes, from Mike, they finally reached the edge of the city. As Joe started looking over the city with his camera, Mike took out his shotgun and dug his hand into his pocket, pulling out a few 10 gauge shells. The shotgun probably wasn't fully loaded. True enough, he could fit three more rounds in there.
"Well," Joe said, apparently finished. "I can't see any zombies, but that doesn't mean there aren't any," Mike nodded. He knew what that meant, even if Joe seemed to have forgotten it at the moment. "The library is right around the corner of the street, then the Internet Provider building is right there."
"You know, no zombies in the streets usually means a massive amount zombies inside," Mike supplied, looking at Joe as if the man had a death wish. He probably did. Well, to be fair, so did Mike. After all, he came along despite knowing the dangers, right? One does not charge headfirst into gunfire or zombie hordes with just a pair of ninja-to is one doesn't have a death wish.
Just then, a loud roared pierced through the air, almost, almost, making Mike jump in surprise. Mike was pretty jaded when it came to loud noises. After all, there was no sound in the world more scary than a Screamer's Screamy Scream of Scary Screams. "Let's get moving before that Z-Rex comes running for us."
"Oh, yeah, that's smart," Mike said as he followed Joe, putting away his shotgun and upholstering his pistols. "We don't want to be found by the Z-Rex, so we move toward it... Somehow, that sounds like an idea I'd come up with..."
And everyone knew Mike's 'plans' were suicidal.
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Post by Generalfoley on Sept 12, 2011 8:40:23 GMT -7
"You know, no zombies in the streets usually means a massive amount zombies inside," Joe nodded, walking past the cars. The streets were surprisingly clear, a large path down the middle being shown. Probably the work of the big zombie they saw. "Then we kill 'em all." He whispered to himself. Thunder roared overhead again, the rain growing heavier. The rain poured off Joe's hat, and he unslung his rifle, as to not get the barrel filled with rainwater. "Oh, yeah, that's smart," Joe heard Mike say. He chuckled. "We don't want to be found by the Z-Rex, so we move toward it... Somehow, that sounds like an idea I'd come up with..."
Joe grinned at that. "It works in the movies, right?" Movement showed in the corner of his eye, and he saw a zombie stumbling towards them. It screamed. No less than three seconds later, Joe fired a round into it's skull. He didn't wait to see the aftermath.
"Fuck me," Joe said as he started to run down the path. That screamer's scream was going to attract every undead motherfucker inside those buildings. Sure enough, Joe started to hear the moans of the undead. He quickened his pace. He ran, hoping Mike was keeping up. He ran until they reached the end of the street, but Joe looked around. "Fuck me!" He shouted. There was a swarm of Common's stumbling toward them on one side, at the library, and another swarm of Common's on the other. They were trapped. Except for two options; either they take the risk of heading into the Internet Provider Building, or they go down into the Sewers. Joe looked at Mike, and saw that he knew the options too.
"We take chances inside," Joe said, taking a couple shots. Two zombies went down. "Or we go down into the sewers. Your call." Joe fired a couple more shots at a few more zombies before looking at a pillar of the library. If he hit that thing just right...
The roar of the larger zombie, the Z-Rex as Joe called it, pierced the air again, this time sounding closer. "Shit," Joe started to say. "Shit shit shit shit!" Joe forgot about the pillar, instead heading towards the building. He doubted Mike would want to smell like decomposed, unprocessed shit anyway.
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