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Open Memento Mori

Zach stopped as Alayne turned around at the gate and asked if there was anything else they needed. He stopped shifted his bag onto one arm, and rummaged for a moment, pulling a water bottle and a small container out. "Just this," he said bluntly as he opened the container, pulled out what looked like a large-dose painkiller, and took it with a swig of water, putting the things away and putting the bag back on his back.

He shifted his weight a bit, then nodded. He was still in pain, but it would go away and he'd be a lot more useful when it wasn't bothering him. "I'm good now. I've got everything else," he said. He then turned toward the crossbow-girl. "Zach," he said quickly, giving a short wave, and then he turned back, waiting.
 
James pulled his black trench coat tighter deep into himself, suddenly cold and impatient. So much waiting for this to happen, so much being afraid of it and being excited for it, to be at the edge of it now was positively torture. He wanted to eject himself out of these walls now, despite how illogical it was. It was so long since he'd been outside of this city. He wanted to taste the air, see a different sky then the one he was used to. The feeling of being caged and pent up was coming to a forefront here. It was unbearable.

"Well, I guess we're all ready," he said, at the ensuing silence. He turned to Alayne. "We ready to go? Daylight's a-wasting."
 
[Did I just forum-eat my own post? Fuck me freddy, also the servers are being a bitch...]

With one last look she assured herself that her team was ready. Alayne sighed and turned toward the gate, leaving the safety of Sacramento behind. The gates closed, and they were on their own. She headed North. If she remembered the area correctly she knew where the nearest safe house was.

Back when the outbreak first hit, people were scared, and they did everything they could to protect themselves. After a while the Cities were established, safe havens from the maddness of a now rabid world. People needed to travel from safe house to safe house in order to make it to the cities. She herself traveled from Colorado to Sacramento using them. They weren't used much now, except for hunters. It was their best bet to find one.

She shivered when she remembered a time long gone. She was just a teenager when the outbreak started. Her father was a military man; Air Force. Their family always moving from base to base, never really calling one place home. He was last based in Colorado, at Buckley. It was a tough life, and Alayne supposed that just made her stronger for it. Then everything went to hell, next thing she knew she was all alone and fighting undead. Who knew?

No, she thought as they walked, that shit's over, focus. Dad's gone, and I keep going. I need to stop being a baby about it, that was years ago.

***​

The group had finally reached the old town. They walked down the abandoned streets, homes, schools, cars, everything just sitting there like the people had just walked away and were coming back. But there were signs that wasn't going to happen, bodies, blood, and the passage of time left the place feeling like it was cursed.

The safe house would be a few miles away. They could make it before the sun set. The streets were empty, for now, "Watch your corners," she said softly to her team behind her, "this place is hot."

[I got the o.k. to do the time jump. Don't kill me. Please?]
 
Zach followed down the street, looking grimly at the grotesque image left by what remained of the town. He nodded to Alayne and kept an eye out around him. His leg was feeling better and he had a fairly normal pace at this point, and he was feeling pretty good in general, despite the nagging fear and the tension in the air. He reached a hand up over his shoulder above the space in his pack where his blade was hidden, just in case.
 
After a fairly uneventful journey through fairly uneventful scenery, everything in James had been relaxing. At the site of this new ghost town, his hackles rose. It looked almost ordinary, if you only glanced at it, but closer examination provided enough details to work out a bloody past-a broken window here, a bullet casing there. A human hand, cut off, right in the middle of the road, old and shrivelled.

Lovely.

And then Alayne spoke.

"Hot? Hot as in...well, okay then."

James moved to his umbrella to draw his gun, although this was a pitifully bad idea from the start, and so he instead went for his letter-openers, though holding this and his umbrella would mean that he had no free hands, and no matter what he did he had to have a hand free to deal with any unforeseen circumstances, so that limited him to one weapon- his umbrella.

He didn't like how being outside the walls seemed to destroy his logical ability. Ideas that should have been easy to reach were taking far too much time to get to. And the outside world was disappointing.

Everything around him, instead of being fresh and new as he'd once thought, was old and decayed. Living in a city his whole life seemed to have destroyed his sense of perspective, and that cool castle in the distance could have been a mile, two miles, or a hundred miles away for all he knew. And the sky, there was just so much of it, not blocked off by any buildings. There was far too much sky, he thought.

Shaking his head back to earth, he clutched the umbrella in his right hand, ready to swing it at whatever might come for them.
 
[Urggggggh Ulqi why have you forsaken this thread... Just gonna skip meeting Nikki for lack of time]

Axelle kept her hands stuffed in her pockets on the stroll to the older part of town, and walked by James. She glanced around at the bland, crumbling buildings, shattered windows, a few blood spatters on the wall here and there. But what caught her attention the most was the palm-up, dreadfully gray hand that lay in their path. Axelle wrinkled her nose at it, and let her hand brush across the knife in her pocket.

Alayne spoke next, warning them that it was "hot." Axelle said nothing, though, assuming that met it was crawling with zoms, and pulled out her switchblade to rough up some lame brains if needed. She noticed James decided to defend himself with none other than that umbrella, and she grinned. "Nice weapon of choice," she whispered to him, then let her eyes wander around her. She scanned the ghost town for the slightest movement, which suggested undead life was on the rise, and pushed the button on her knife, letting the blade flick out.
 
[stupid servers... forgive this post]

Nikki looked around the streets, the buildings, and the group. Even though she only knew 2 or 3 names, she tried to remember faces. Their "leader," or at least she acted that way, metioned something about this place being hot. Nikki understood and allowed her knives to fill her hands. These two knives got her from Salt Lake City to Sacramento, she trusted them now.

She watched the corner of a building, sensing a presence, but found nothing. Releaxing, she turned to the group. One had a knive, another had an... umbrella?, but Nikki didn't see what their "leader" was going to use. She decided to speak up, but in a whisper. "Where exactly are we trying to get before nightfall?" She tossed a knive up into the air and caught it. She kept doing this, waiting for an answer.
 
Alayne watched as the Weather Man readied his weapon, Axelle following his lead. "There are safe houses that helped lead survivors to the cities back when they were first being established," she told Nikki. "There was one nearby. They're mostly used by hunters now."

Across the streat lay a old school burger joint. The roof had collapsed some time ago, and it was completely unstable. But it wasn't the burger joint that peaked her interest. She heard movement. Smoothly she drew her machete and took cover behind a nearby car. Looking through the shattered windows she saw them; three zoms. She smiled when she saw the one on the left, who was wearing the tattered remains of combat gear; a soldier.

Soldiers were a rare treat. They almost always had good gear on them, whether it be ammo, rations, or even weapons. She cursed that she couldn't see what he had on him from their position.

"We've got zoms," she whispered to the group, "three, back side of the parking lot, see them? One of them was a soldier, see the tac armor? He might have some good gear. We can move on, or take them out and see what he's got for us."

"I'm going to let you guys chose."
 
"We kill them. It's the best thing to do-we're prepared, and can take them out easily-it'll mean three less zedheads on the streets to kill others-the military gear could be valuable-we all need the experience-and if this is the first place you thought of to come, there could be other teams heading here as well who could get ambushed here, which would be unhealthy for the entire mission we're on. So we kill them. I'm willing and able for whatever you have planned".

Excitement rolled itself inside James, but he forced it to stay in his stomach. Adrenaline and nerves would do nothing but make him look stupid and possibly kill him. Much better to be cool, calm, and alert. He gripped the umbrella tightly, and imagined swinging it with enough force to shatter a human skull. It suddenly didn't seem like such a feasible idea. What if he missed, or fucked up, or if the zombie didn't go down on the first hit, or if the other zombies attacked him at once, or-

Fuck up, he told himself. You can do this later, when the dead are in the ground.
 
Zach reached into his pack and pulled out the machete-like knife he had at the mention of zombies. Here was a chance for experience and possibly gear. He didn't want to pass it up himself, and if James was agreeing while only wielding an umbrella, there had to be someone with an actual weapon who would be involved too.

"I'm in for killing them. Gear or provisions and the fact that it's three less zoms makes it a choice worth considering. And two against 3 when one has just an umbrella... if we are going to kill these deadheads, it would be best to have more than one person willing who has an actual weapon," he said, spinning the blade in his hand once.
 
"Why do you assume I just have an umbrella? Why does everyone assume I just have an umbrella?"

He opened out the canopy of the antiweather device with the slider and took a letter opener from the ribs. It wasn't exactly made for killing, but with a six-inch blade, it looked pretty savage.

"I have two of these. And a gun, that we don't want to use for obvious reasons. Plus, what the fuck is wrong with an umbrella? The metal rod is pretty much as strong as a baseball bat, and a baseball bat wrapped in cloth is still a fucking baseball bat. If you can rush in with a broken leg, and I can rush in with an umbrella."

James was not happy with what he had just said. Trying to make a case for himself against someone like Zach was a challenge very different to what he was used to, and the copious amounts of swearing probably had done more to damage this case than to preserve it. Whilst he knew he couldn't be too subtle referencing Zach's lamety, outright stating it wasn't the right way to go, either. He'd just have to hope Zach didn't respond too violently to the words.
 
"Kill them now, as they've stated. It's or best and most worthwhile choice. If the solider has any rations or gear, we can use it." She stops tossing her knives and readies them. She adjusts the crossbow in her pack for easy access for long distance shots. The extra bolts stay in the lower pocket on her jeans. No matter what, she had to be able to get at them fast.
 
Axelle watched the others curiously for a moment, and blinked over at James again when he lashed out at Zach's statement. She snorted as he asked him why everyone assumed James only had the killer umbrella, and she muttered under her breath, "What the hell's wrong with just an umbrella?"

She rose an eyebrow at the letter openers he pulled out, and scarcely managed to hold her tongue before she was able to whip out a smart remark about it. What did surprise her a bit was when the man mentioned Zach having a broken leg. Axelle hasn't really paid much attention to Zach himself, so she glanced over at his leg, and turned back to James. "Hasn't been much of a problem so far if he's made it this much," she countered monotonously, her eyebrow still arched, "and certainly not enough to make him back out of this little adventure of ours."

Then she remembered what Alayne had asked beforehand, which apparently led into this dispute between James and Zach. Turning to the zombie hunter, Axelle agreed with her teammates. "Might as well get it over with," she answered, "so we can, at the most, make it home before dark."
 
Zach glared back at James, angered by the sudden outburst from the recently fairly calm man. He was not in the mood for this, especially when they were supposed to be working together. Maybe he'd said what he'd said a bit poorly, but the reaction was unnecessary. Plus, James had just yelled out, and wrongly, about his injury. Zach did his best not to lose it himself, but that was short-lived.

"For one, I'm so sorry I'd forgotten about the other weapons, but I didn't see you readying any of them anyway, but I suppose the umbrella's useful enough. And my leg isn't broken, it's just the result of the limited surgery available after all this started. I don't give a damn though. I'm here, I'm helping, and you better appreciate that. Now, are we going to do something, or not?" He ended, turning from James and looking at Alayne, now that pretty much everyone else had agreed to Zom-smacking.
 
Backing down, admitting to the mistake, would be foolish, schizophrenic. Better to try and find a justification for his actions. This time, much subtler-perhaps lay the seeds of a chance that this reaction was just as he planned, to prove a point. Shrug it off as an unusual debating tactic.

"Right, so if my umbrella is a non-issue, and your leg is a non-issue, then there isn't any reason either of us couldn't help put these guys down, right? We shouldn't be making assumptions about other people's abilities. You shouldn't assume I'd walk out with just an umbrella when you've seen I'm not mentally incompetent, and I shouldn't assume your leg will cause you trouble when you've shown no signs of that. And we definitely shouldn't assume that there are only three zombies in there. How do we know there aren't others further in?"

And thus, the topic shifted from petty squabbles to that of tactics-at least, he hoped this would shift it.

"Going in with such limited knowledge is dangerous-and it's pretty cramped and crowded, which is good for them and terrible for us. If we could just lead them out into the open, all of us could surround them and clip 'em easily. You know, a trap. If anyone had any tripwire or something, we could even get them on the ground-killing them would be child's play. And we'd never have to enter the burger joint that could be concealing death. Sound good?"
 
Alayne listened to their little high school squabble with disgust, and she was greatful that James put at end to it... she hoped.

"The street should work fine," she said, keeping an eye on the undead, "we've already talked too much. James, Zach, hide behind those cars," she pointed to two cars that were in the middle of the street. "Everyone else find somewhere to keep cover, Nikki cover with that blasted crossbow. I'll get them into the open," she smiled. " I'll take the first one through, then I want you two to get the jump on the ones behind him. Got it?"
 
"Cool, cool. 'll be ready when you are."
With that, he trotted to the cars about ten meters away. One was sleek, brand new-before the apocalypse, that was, which made it twelve years old, and the weathering on it showed. The other was huge, hulking, more of a van then a car, and it was this that he chose to crouch behind-being bigger and easier to stay out of view. He pressed his ear to the ground, keeping his eyes on the door of the burger joint, clearly visible from underneath the van's hulking frame. He tried to remain calm. It was strangely easy.

Logically, this should be easy. He was alive, thinking, and very much not rotted, so all the advantages lay with him. He took the letter opener and slotted it through a rung on his belt, for easy access. He'd come in with the umbrella, knock the Zombie to the ground, and knife it from there. Easy.

His body tensed. He was ready.
 
"Got it," Zach said, quickly getting behind one of the cars in the street, keeping low and holding his blade ready. He peeked out carefully, watching Alayne. He wondered how a zombie hunter really got it done. This would be interesting.

He waited, tense, and then looked between Alayne and the zombies, then to everyone else, and then ducked back all the way behind the car. The delay as everyone got ready made things even more intense for what seemed like a fairly simple task for a first go. He shifted his weight where he crouched and got ready.
 
Once everyone was in place Alayne walked toward the zombies her two foot long machete in hand. Zombies, Alayne knew, were like dogs. They are attracted to sound and smell.

So that was how she was going to lure them in.

The one closest was the soldier, she smiled and snapped her fingers repeatedly, trying to get the lame brain's attention. Then she took her machete and made a small cut on her palm. Blood flowed slowly down her wrist as she held her hand out. Smelling the blood it turned, growling, and stared at her less than a second then started to rush her. It was faster than the other two, but not by too much. She walked backwards slowly as it fumbled towards her. The smell reached her first, rotting flesh, carrion, blood. It was not the greatest perfume. She drew her combat knife in her left, her machete still in her right. And waited.

Closer.

Closer.

NOW! Her movements were fluid and smooth from one position to the next. It reached out for her, she ducked down to one knee and then took it's legs from under it. Black blood coated her machete and along her arm. The zom fell, then she used her knife to stab it through the eye.

One down.

Bouncing back to her feet she ran in between the two cars that she knew James and Zach were waiting behind. The geeks at her heels.

"NOW!" she said as she passed the cars.
 
Last edited:
Alayne's knife ruined the zombie's face.
"NOW!"
A second's hesitation, and then-
He was whirling around the van, sprinting towards them, emotions muted as he tried to control himself. He ran past one, umbrella trailing behind, and its hook caught the end of the zombie's ankle, dragging it to the ground and then on for several meters, away from the second. It writhed and growled and squirmed, and James took one look at it-a woman, by the face, though the chest was nothing but bones and severed muscle. It tried to get up at him, hungering for him. His umbrella caught it on the temple, and its head smacked off the concrete.

He threw the umbrella to the ground, took out the letter opener, and knelt beside it.

He raised it high above his heads with two hands, prepared to send it down with enough force to break a human skeleton

A hand gripped the scruff of his t-shirt and pulled him in to take a bite.
Its mouth loomed in front of him.
He rolled over the zombie, trying to scrabble away, but its grip was secure, and in rolling away he had pulled it on top of himself.
Writhing, screaming, mouth inches from his face-
The letter opener went through the zombie's skull with such force that the its neck snapped. He kicked the useless corpse off himself, watched it roll away, lifeless, truly dead.

Which was when conscious thought returned.

"Fuck."

He brushed himself off (though there was little he could do for its blood, which would almost definitely stain) stood up, breathed deeply, bent down calmly to pick up his umbrella, where it fallen, now beside the zombie. He looked at it (her? No. It.) It didn't look alive, but it hadn't a minute ago, either. The idea of this thing before him rising up didn't seem that far-fetched.

His boot rose, came down, rose, came down, rose, came down-

The skull was flattened, the brains spread out like a pancake. It didn't even look human any more.

Much better.
 
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