162 replies to this topic

[some_weirdGuy]

((SWG fell to silence at the awesomeness of that post, visualizing it in his head

))

Kelvin leaned back, pulling boo out of his pocket
"are we safe? do you think the infected will rally against as again?" kelvin asked, as the dieing cry of the screamer sounded in the distance((it is in the distance right?))
he shivered, but for the first time since the screamer had first showed itself, he felt no fear... Kelvin was at peace, if only momentarily.

[Vortigern]

"I would be very surprised if they didn't," replied Augustus, moving in closer to man with the hamster. "I've been watching them just as much as killing them over the past however long, and they seem to exist primarily to feed. Or to kill, it doesn't seem to make much odds with them." Augustus looked around the van. Fifteen men and women were cramped inside it, pushing around for a bit more space here and there. "I'd say it won't be long before we run into them again."

"What was that thing, anyway? The one that your friend - Ryn, right? - went out to fight. What happened to it to make it look like that?" Kelvin shrugged; he didn't seem to have any answers to that one. Maybe someone else would. Augustus sighed. There were a few old students whose help he could have done with now, to try and figure out this bizarre conundrum.

[Copaman]

On the headset, Jim gave his reply.

"Judging by how far we've gone so far, and how far I was told it should be, I say we've got about seven more hours of driving to go. But, if we could get those party vans to speed it up a bit, we could make it in five I think. You wanna look into that for me?"

[war_angel]

((sorry for not posting, i was on holiday for a week!, they even changed the whole damn site, lol))

Silva sat in the very back of one of the trucks, he had his .50 cal rested across his lap, looking back away form the convoy. He had pulled it off of the car form earlier, as it would come in handy, however he had limited ammunition, and would need to use it alot more wisely than before. But for now they were safe, and that was all that mattered!

[Paladin58]

Titus pushed his Kawasaki to the limit, getting it to 160 before the drag caused by his clothes and the gear on his back started to affect speed. He was following the plume of dust in he distance, figuring that it was the convoy heading to the next area. He switched the channel on his headset to the survivor's channel, so he could listen in on conversation, and interject some, himself.

"You guys... Uh, Ryn. Ryn's dead. He grabbed the wrong bombs while we were back in the camp. I tried to tell him when I scoped the situation, but I think he pulled the headset off. I'm sorry, guys."

[some_weirdGuy]

Kelvin fell to silence...
So many people were dieing, what a horrible place the world had become...

it was hard the believe that once life had been normal, that once there were no infected, and peoples lives were preoccupied by such seeming meaningless worries, like money, and what movie you might see next weekend...

Kelvin sighed, those things were a world away now....

[Vortigern]

"I never even knew him," said Augustus, sadly, numbed. He had felt the death of every man and woman personally, regardless of how well he had known them or for how long, and Ryn had seemed like a good man. This had gone on far too long already. It was no longer about survival. It was kill or be killed. This was back to instinct now.

[southsidediablo]

"Shit, lost another. Best thing we can do is push on, and hopefully this town is legit." John thought for a minute, and spoke back into the mic, "We need to pickup the pace, and get to this place as fast as possible. Those things will be after us again."

[Paladin58]

"Well, there is a bit of a silver lining in the situation. That screaming thing got caught in the explosion. I think it's dead, too."

[Fire Ze Missiles!]

((OOC: Apologies for my inactivity guys, had a lot of work and shiz recently.))

A sober mood settled on the convoy as they drove on up the country roads. After such a reminder of their own mortality, it was hard for anyone present to see any beauty in the picturesque countryside that they were traversing.
The day brightened, the convoy rolled on. Conversation was scarce, as was seeing anything else. John Doe led the convoy along the coast for the first few hours, reminding them that this was 'the last they'd be seein' of her for a good long while.' But eventually they had to turn away from the shimmering beauty of the empty Atlantic, and head inland.
Occasionally they went through small towns. It was an eerie sight; the traffic lights still shone pointlessly, washing hung on lines, cars were parked along the quiet roads. But there was never any life, barely any movement at all. The ghost towns stood still, a testament to a past age of glory that would stand until the Earth reclaimed it.
Eventually, the convoy neared the site of the supposed haven, with fortunately no sign of the sprinter pack returning. As the trucks crested a large hill, a flicker of hope could not help but be built in every heart...

((Ah, worst timing ever! Sorry guys, I have to go now, typically I promise I'll finish this soon, and you can actually know what's happening!))

[Fire Ze Missiles!]

((OK, Finally I have some more time. Buckle up guys - this is pretty epic.))

...only to be spectacularly crushed by the forces arrayed before them. Together with Jimmy and John Doe in the cabin of the leading truck, Darkman's breath froze in his throat.
"Dear God in Heaven..." he breathed, "We are so fucked."
Gathering his wits, he ordered the convoy into the cover of a nearby copse of trees, hiding them from the attentions of those below. A safe perimeter was quickly established by the experienced survivors, but no infected approached them. Before addressing the group, Darkman needed more information. Signalling the closest guards to cover him, he crept forward to the edge of the tree-line. He wasn't about to be spotted, so he wasn't taking any chances as he approached the border with the outside world. He moved slowly, stealthily through the undergrowth, allowing time to mentally steel himself for the sight that unfolded before him. But despite his preparations, Darkman could not stop a sharp intake of breath as he saw it again.
Beyond the hill on which he crouched, rolling plains spread out to the horizon. Some distance from the hill, perhaps a mile, lay the city. And truly it was a city - a wall of enormous, interwoven concrete blocks formed a solid wall around the sprawl of semi-permanent buildings within. Darkman could make clearly make out the distinctive shape of a church, and the corrugated iron roofs of large warehouses glinted dully in the afternoon sunlight. Clearly the radio message had attracted quite a lot of attention. Unfortunately, not all of it was still human. Shaking his head in disbelief, Darkman withdrew a pair of binoculars from a pouch at his waist, and surveyed the battlefield in more detail.
The flat, fertile plains around the city were literally crawling with the undead. Through the binoculars, Darkman could make out the grim faces of the defenders - irregular, non-uniformed soldiery, armed with whatever firearm was to hand. But they were not what captured Darkman's thoughts. It was the infected below them.
Arranged in tight ranks, the undead seemed almost orderly. Large squares of them moved - no, marched across the battlefield, repositioning themselves so as to spread the defenders thinly across the walls. Arrayed just out of range of the human's guns, the infected army was a terrifying sight. They enveloped the entire city. Ragged groups of sprinters, barely holding themselves back, and strangely orderly blocks of shamblers, each shadowed by a large presence, holding them together.
These creatures were intriguing to Darkman - the only thing they all had in common was that the lesser undead bended to their will. Some were similar to the large on that had taken Gary, so long ago. Others were closer to the Screamer that had haunted them of late, although none appeared to match his raw ferocity. Some were stranger still - one was swathed in a moving darkness, another Darkman found he could not focus on however hard he tried. These were the great leaders, the gods of the undead; fearsome in battle and single-minded in duty. There were at least thirty of them.
This was not just a horde of infected, congregating at a likely food source. No, this was something much worse.
This was a siege.

***

Calling together all those who were not on guard, Darkman addressed the group sombrely.
"The good news," he began, "is that the city of survivors does exist. What I'm wondering is how long for. The bad news, I'm afraid, is much, much worse."
Set faces regarded him, well-used to receiving ill news.
"The infected are organised."
The only reply was a stunned silence. Somebody laughed nervously.
"I wish I was joking. They've got the city surrounded. There're regiments, fucking platoons of undead, all led by a bunch of freaky fuckers...It's a god-damn army. Christ."
Darkman's hand covered his face. The anger, the stress, the pain of the past few weeks roiled within him, and for a moment he was overcome by his emotions. He could feel the eyes of the others on him, knew he had to react, to decide, to lead. It was his duty.
"All right. OK." Darkman looked up, reasserted himself. "OK. We have two options. Either, we leave, get back in the trucks and go away, or we go to the city...and fight."
He looked around the group, looked at the faces, the familiar and the new.
"So. Do we run? Or do we fight?"

[southsidediablo]

John was the first to speak up, "I say we fight. We have enough firepower to clear out a good amount. And with the calvary coming to the rescue, maybe the survivors will fight harder. I'm not sure, in my heart I think we can take them on. But if they are organized, they'll be smart enough to counter. We'd need some heavy firepower, like a tank or cannon. Something that'll take out masses of them. The best thing would be a helicopter. It's something they can't reach, and we'd be able to fire from it, drop grenades. Our only advantage really is our ability to use machines, and we need that now. On the other hand, if we run, where will we run to? If there's other cities like this, then similar things may be happening. We can't run forever." John walked back, listening to the others speak their voice.

Edited by southsidediablo, 09 June 2008 - 10:41 PM.

[some_weirdGuy]

"... We might not be the only ones to use machines for long... i mean, before they were a messed group, their only force of organization was when they group together in hunger... but now, now they are organized, leaders, ranks, platoons, we dont know how far up this goes... we might well start to see infected driving in tanks, dressed in soldier uniforms... maybe even taking control of weapons of mass destruction...

I dont want to run, i want to help... but how many are we talking here? do you really think we have a chance of winning?" kelvin so wanted to hear the word, he wished so badly for a yes... but he wasn't confident, if what was said was true, then the infected were now a much bigger problem then ever before....

[Copaman]

((OOC: Jim is on a crotch rocket. Or was, I guess.))

Jim hadn't spoken up since the news of Ryn's death in his fight with the Screamer.

But his feelings of regret and sorry had stirred suddenly after he was told of the seige. He was now angry in a manner he had never before felt. "I say we kill the fuckers. Kill them all. We're all a bunch of fucking pussies for not standing and fighting earlier. For God's sake, this is a big city with possibly hundreds of people in there. There's gotta be some sort of military installation or something in there. Say we can manage to get inside to walls of the city - we can then organize their ragtag asses and form an effective resistance, grab some tanks or a helicopter or whatever, and push those ugly fuckers out away from the walls. Who's with me on this one?"

[Fire Ze Missiles!]

Dean stepped forward. "I'm with you. We're gonna have to fight 'em some day. May as well be now."
He looked to Darkman, as if for conformation, who replied, "I can't promise you victory. I can't promise you survival. I can't promise that we'll even make it to the walls. Hell. We may as well go down swingin'."

[Vortigern]

Augustus stared blankly at the metal wall of the truck. How did it come to this? he wondered. We're debating whether to fight and die for a cause that we have no understanding of, much less reason to fight for, other than our own survival. His thoughts went blank for a moment, before recomposing themselves. Somewhat more bluntly. Fuck it. Fuck them all.

"Let's do this," he said. "Live for the present, lads." It might be all we've got left.

[southsidediablo]

John looked around. "Alright, seems like we're all fightin. Now, we're gonna need a strategy to get in that city." John stopped to light a cigarette and inhaled quickly. "We could split up, one team distracting while the other gets inside. The team that gets inside could help gather more troops, or find weapons. Main targets are the leaders. We take those out, the rest will scatter and do their own thing. Then it should be a simple matter of picking them off. But that's just my plan, anyone else got ideas?" John finished his cigarette and threw it to the ground.

[some_weirdGuy]

"... we could bring the tracks and try plowing our way through... at least untill the tires get blocked up with infected... but if we do that, we could be screwed. gesh, im not a strategist!" Kelvin held boo in his hand, before picking up his gun and placing the rodent in his bag
"but we do need a solid plan, no use rushing in there like brainless infected ourselves..."

Edited by some_wierdGuy, 16 June 2008 - 06:54 AM.

[Fire Ze Missiles!]

Carl spoke up.
"If we're gonna get through at all we ought to wait until they actually start attacking the walls, else it'll be us on their entire army. As for a plan - we got any flares left? The infected don't seem to like bright light real much. Could give us a chance to get through while their guard's down if we launch 'em at the right time."

[southsidediablo]

John went through his pack, "Yeah, I got about ten flares left. I used one on the cargo ship, and lit the bastards right up." John smiled as he remember that awesome moment.