Left 4 Dead - The Last Escape

[C.T.]

To those on the motorcycles heading towards the station, a horrid sight was beginning to loom on the horizon from Salt Lake City. Stemming from the mountains, they stood, their bodies descending downwards, some of them falling to their deaths, yet moving with a shocking swiftness and speed. Due to the rugged terrain of the desert, these wandering Infected, far away from their pack, would take awhile to arrive at the gas station.

Still, they are coming, the Infected are coming.

@Schnee Corp Lawyer @Saint Guillotine @OrlandoBloomers @C.T.​

Shifting her gaze from the other motorcycles, she got a glimpse of movement on the horizon. Narrowing her eyes and focusing her vision, she spotted them. Too far to make out features but enough to tell they weren't really human any more. No survival instinct or care, several of them even seemed to be plummeting to falls that guaranteed a splattered demise. Laura bit her lip, trying to bring up the memory. It was a particularly boring day. She had been grounded for something, she didn't even recall. No hunting or anything exhilarating like that. The options were slim and Laura recalled cracking open an atlas and studying information of all the other states. She hadn't yet known that she would ever even be leaving Alaska and so that boring afternoon was a rewarding one, digging deep into learning all about the other 49 states. The capital of Utah...the population was roughly close to 200,000.

Even if it was only 1% of that population that were Infected and heading this way...that was still 2000. It doesn't look like that many but who knows how many are just out of sight? Laura glanced to her holster. The gun sounds would possibly bring even more. Analysis of consequences. Fight or flight, that is the question...after she reached the crash site and investigated. She floored the gas, her motorcycle shooting back up to top speed to catch up with the others ahead.

@Krieg @OrlandoBloomers @Schnee Corp Lawyer @Saint Guillotine​

 

[Jeremi]

I saw the guy was packing heat so I probably shouldn't have pressed my luck. Who knows what kind of people were running around now that infected were on the prowl? But, the guy was still in one piece so he probably should have been grateful for that. In any case, I guess I did owe him some semblance of an apology. Wasn't his fault he was walking out here. Or so I assumed anyway.

"I did, huh? Didn't even notice ya. But, if it means anything I'm glad I didn't hit you. Name's Frank, by the way. Frank West, freelancer reporter."
​

Oh. Well, this was a sight I hadn't expected to see for a while. An attractive young lady in need of some assistance. She also seemed to be having car troubles herself. But now really wasn't the time for me to put on the ol 'West charm. Maybe make some acquaintances, get a new ride and keep moving forward.

"I was in my own car. Until that busted down and so I figured I'd hike the rest of it. Thankfully, I met other actual people in you guys so maybe I won't have to do too much walking after all. Health? I'm fine, or as fine with all that's gone down. What's your name?"

At the mention of changing a tire, I would have gladly offered a hand to help. But then a few more newcomers made their way to the station, some of them seeming a bit strange in attire. ​

I wasn't quite sure what to make of this new guy just yet. He didn't seem like he had any intentions of getting into a scuffle with us. Which was fine by me, given the bat he was lugging around, I didn't want to see who swung their bat with the most skill. Specially not against a guy walking around with a jaguar mask on his head.

I half expected him to roar given the mask, but that would have been stupid. As the guy actually spoke up, he brought up a pretty good question.

"I was just going to help the lady here with her tire, but grabbing some snacks for the road might not be such a bad idea. Unless somebody's already picked it clean on their way out here. What's your name, Jaguar guy and what's with the mask?" I asked, didn't mean to come off as judgmental or anything. Figured anybody who walked up looking like that might earn a few curious looks and questions, right?
​

*flash*

I dunno what kind of shows this guy's been watching but either too much of that or this mess's really done a number on his sanity. One of those must have been the explanation behind that whole bike scene. Which I thankfully managed to capture on my trusty camera.

Perfect! 9000 pp

Lowering the camera once the deed had been done, I shrugged my shoulders lightly at the guy's question. Seeing the picture of the wreck that I managed to capture? I highly doubted anything survived that fall. But, this guy seemed like he could muster up the enthusiasm for just about anything if that display with the bike and that awkward standing still thing he did were any indications.

"You should probably be careful but other than that? Be my guest." I'd say to the other new-guy in regards to investigating the helicopter wreck. Maybe he would find something substantial in the mess of all that debris.

@Kaykay @Ivazel @Krieg @Josh M @Jeremi​

A man with a camera was the first to respond to him. "I am Armor King and the mask is a symbol...and a promise of hope." He replied to the mans question. Then another got his attention.

It seemed like a crowed was growing. That was a mixed bag. It's good to work with people, but if they saw the crash, the infected sure wouldn't be that close behind. The man in front of her, the man in the mask, she knew him, well, of him.



"You're Armored King, aren'tcha? You're a luchador, from the indies. I've watched some of you matches, you're good. "

Turning to Frank, she'd smile, nodding, then, back to king

"Name's Tina Armstrong."


At that last part, she was name dropping herself. She didn't wanna say "I loved it when my daddy whipped your ass.


@TheSpringwoodSlasher @Jeremi



"Huh, you okay, hun?"


This guy seemed like a fish flopping out of water.


@Kaykay

The last name was familiar. "You are Bass Armstrongs child, but...it was my brother who faced him. I was just in his corner." He hadn't much liked her father, at the time they had fought he was already past his prime, but his brother had somehow managed to squeeze a good match out of him. "I had heard you had followed in the family business. Perhaps under better circumstances I would've been glad to meet you." Before he continued another man stepped forward.

How quaint

From the golden locks of a charming young woman, the Swede slowly arose from his inclined position upon the hot concrete of this nearly abandoned gas station. Underneath the shade and protection of the station, the immoral mathematician walked gentle outwards, his gaze distant and the words but sounds to his ear. Behind the black-clad doctor, the smoke from the helicopter had fractured, a fragment of the puffous gas acting as a somewhat fog of sorts. With a good half of the gas station masked entirely in smoky fog,, the middle-aged man profusely rose his head, speaking in a strange yet distant accent that could be easily mistaken for Swedish.

"I am doctor, flower, not a mechanic." he addressed firstly, his voice coy and sly, bearing a masked lie. In truth, he was no doctor, his medical skills were in the mathematics of chemicals, treatments and all sorts of vile liquids designed to kill or keep people alive. Moving his lower jaw lightly, the strange man hissed lightly, spotting the newcomers seeking the crash site like some sort of sanctuary. Looking amused, the Swede grabbed his duffle bag, tossing the heavy bag out in the open.

"In there, ah, you will find, mmm, three or so pistols of sorts...a double-barreled shotgun beauty...and a old lever-action hunting rifle. There is, ahh, o course, more supplies inside that I could not carry." Along with some other commodities like food and such." the Swede offered, his face beaming with joy and companionship. "My friends, take what you must, what you please. We are all brothers and sisters now, aren't we?" the Swede remarked, his voice both reassuring and uncomfortable. He was hard to tell with his posture and smile if the man was sincere or seeking people to do the fighting for him.

Behind the doctor, a shadowy figure began to stumbled through the smoke, soft groans muffled underneath a tightly-woven aviator helmet. Aware of the intruder, Thor Gundersen continued, his arms still extended, the intellectual breaking out in a speech. "Look at us, rogues and misfits, this was the hands of Fate! Let us remember this day, above all days, as the beginning of something new, my siblings." he spoke almost religiously, despite the Swede himself having a distaste for religion.

Swiftly turning around, he unsheathed his single-action, Colt revolver, shooting directly at the stumbling pilot through the smoke. Infected or not, the figure flailed briefly, the powerful bullet piercing the fallen angel's skull. With extreme violence and lack of mercy, the Swede smirked, cocking the hammer of his revolver and putting it back into it's sheath.

Turning around him, he adjusted his black jacket and tightened his gloves.

"Now, ahh, we have a crash to investigate."

And with that, the Swede ventured into the fog, not paying mind to the Infected, or more frighteningly, man that he just shot.

@TheSpringwoodSlasher @Kaykay @Ivazel @Josh M @Jeremi @Others

---

To those on the motorcycles heading towards the station, a horrid sight was beginning to loom on the horizon from Salt Lake City. Stemming from the mountains, they stood, their bodies descending downwards, some of them falling to their deaths, yet moving with a shocking swiftness and speed. Due to the rugged terrain of the desert, these wandering Infected, far away from their pack, would take awhile to arrive at the gas station.

Still, they are coming, the Infected are coming.

@Schnee Corp Lawyer @Saint Guillotine @OrlandoBloomers @C.T.​

He did not like this man one bit, but the promise of food and a possible weapon was too much to pass up. Instead of heading to the crash site he'd instead investigate the bag and grab the double barreled shotgun before heading after the Swedish man.

@TheSpringwoodSlasher @Kaykay @Ivazel @Josh M@Krieg​

 

[Krieg]

I have to admit, this guy gave me the creeps. Just the way he carried himself and seemed so unfettered by having to shoot what used to be the pilot of that helicopter. I also didn't appreciate the label of being a rogue or misfit. I did what I had to do to get my story but I wasn't any misfit, that's for damn sure. The way he called us siblings was another thing I checked off my 'weird guy' list.

But then again with creatures running around that could tear you limb from limb? Maybe you could afford to be a little off.

As the Swede tossed his duffel bag to the ground and explained what resided inside, I mulled over my options. Wasn't too keen on handling the rifle or shotgun when it could go to someone who might have been a bit more savvy with their firearms. The pistol sounded like a decent idea. Even if it dug up bad memories. Would have been handy if I needed to do some long range fighting and the baseball bat couldn't help me there. So, I'd make my way over and unzipped the bag as I ran my hand around inside to try and find one of the pistols.

"..Yeah, be there in just a second."

@Kaykay @Krieg @Ivazel @Josh M @Jeremi​

The Swede paid no attention to the newcomers, intent on making haste to scavenge the freshly crashed helicopter. With the shotgun (taken by Armor King), lever-action rifle, and several other smaller, makeshift weapons laying about, Frank would find one of the few pistols laying within the bag. The weapons presently was certainly far from military grade equipment, but they were far from cheap Chinese knockoffs either.

With the choices laid out for the other survivors, they were faced with either following the Swede into the mysterious fog of the helicopter crash or dwelling deeper into the gas station. For those with broken vehicles, now would be the time to hastily scavenge supplies to repair their automobiles and find gasoline.

On the horizon, the dull humming of engines could be heard, not from the iron fleets of above, but from the earth below.

@Jeremi @Kaykay @TheSpringwoodSlasher @Josh M @Ivazel @Verite

---

Meanwhile, the "biker crew" would be emerging back onto the road as a whole, the Infected beginning to sprint behind them in full velocity. Whilst not strong in the numbers, the "commoners" were being spurred by the motoring hum of four motors, the sight of the gas station growing closer and closer on the horizon. For a brief moment, it would almost seem as if things weren't as awf-

Before Ruby's eyes, a hooded figure soared above the forming horde of Infected, the unnaturally nimble and swift Infected managing to scrap the back of Yang's bike. Unlike most infected, and even most of these "Hunters", this hooded figure was darting along on all fours. What was once someone who frequently trained their agility and swiftness now hastily dashed on all fours like some wild, wolfish, inhumane predator.

Before the two other bikers in behind, the Hunter kept his gallop, the sand kicking up underneath his feet and hands, growing closer and closer to the two sisters as blood, saliva, and green ooze drooled from his raving mouth.

@C.T. @OrlandoBloomers @Schnee Corp Lawyer @Saint Guillotine


​

 

[Ringmaster]

Before Ruby's eyes, a hooded figure soared above the forming horde of Infected, the unnaturally nimble and swift Infected managing to scrap the back of Yang's bike. Unlike most infected, and even most of these "Hunters", this hooded figure was darting along on all fours. What was once someone who frequently trained their agility and swiftness now hastily dashed on all fours like some wild, wolfish, inhumane predator.

Before the two other bikers in behind, the Hunter kept his gallop, the sand kicking up underneath his feet and hands, growing closer and closer to the two sisters as blood, saliva, and green ooze drooled from his raving mouth.

@C.T. @OrlandoBloomers @Schnee Corp Lawyer @Saint Guillotine

Leave them. With the infected dealing with them, he could break free. He should have. He would have.... He- Shredder snarled, pulling back so his bike would place him at some point behind the Hunter.

His next move was to rev up the gas, blades out to do the motorcycle equivalent of a drive-by-slash, aiming for the back of the hunters neck.

@Krieg @OrlandoBloomers @C.T. @Schnee Corp Lawyer

 

[Josh M]

Turning to the luchador, Tina would nod.


"Yup, you know how wrestlin' is. It runs in the family when it's in your blood."

However, instead of following King. somethin' would get the female's

Wei was just on the floor. Just... lying on his face in the sand or something nearby. Who knows for what reason?

R.I.P.

@everyone <3​

"Shoot!"


Picking up the man, she would fireman carry him inside the gas station, laying him down. Grabbing a pistol and few bottles of water. Sitting herself next to him, Tina poured a little bit of the liquid on the man's face.

"Hey you! Wake up! You ain't dead, right?"



@Jeremi @Verite @Krieg @Kaykay @TheSpringwoodSlasher

 

[Verite]

The Swede paid no attention to the newcomers, intent on making haste to scavenge the freshly crashed helicopter. With the shotgun (taken by Armor King), lever-action rifle, and several other smaller, makeshift weapons laying about, Frank would find one of the few pistols laying within the bag. The weapons presently was certainly far from military grade equipment, but they were far from cheap Chinese knockoffs either.

With the choices laid out for the other survivors, they were faced with either following the Swede into the mysterious fog of the helicopter crash or dwelling deeper into the gas station. For those with broken vehicles, now would be the time to hastily scavenge supplies to repair their automobiles and find gasoline.

On the horizon, the dull humming of engines could be heard, not from the iron fleets of above, but from the earth below.

@Jeremi @Kaykay @TheSpringwoodSlasher @Josh M @Ivazel @Verite​

Turning to the luchador, Tina would nod.


"Yup, you know how wrestlin' is. It runs in the family when it's in your blood."

However, instead of following King. somethin' would get the female's


"Shoot!"


Picking up the man, she would fireman carry him inside the gas station, laying him down. Grabbing a pistol and few bottles of water. Sitting herself next to him, Tina poured a little bit of the liquid on the man's face.



"Hey you! Wake up! You ain't dead, right?"



@Jeremi @Verite @Krieg @Kaykay @TheSpringwoodSlasher

"Guhgh?!"

Having passed out earlier from heat exhaustion, Wei would wake up when Tina would pour water all over him, coughing and spluttering about. Bolting right up, as though the water acted like adrenaline for him, he took a breath and looked at Tina.

"Ah... N-No. No, no... I'm good. Thanks," He murmured, wiping the liquid off his face with his shirt. Before he could stick around for much longer though, he would see someone making their way back to the helicopter. Who would be crazy enough to do something like that in this kinda environment? Wei's sense of justice as a cop overrode his instincts of "What the hell am I doing here?" and, almost completely dismissively towards Tina, began to move.

Wei followed the Swede into the fog. He didn't really waste any time earlier looking for weapons with the others when he had his trusty Desert Eagle with him. That sort of weapon wasn't exactly standard issue for a police officer like him; it was more a personal arm for him. And it was a powerful pistol at that too. Besides, he didn't want to be worn down by the cumbersome weapons like the shotgun and rifle for now, so he decided to let those get in the hands of the others.

He probably shoulda gotten to known the others, but that can wait for later. He was here to survive first, make friends later.

Though that Texas girl looked awful cute. Damn his weakness for blondes.

"Hey! Where you goin'?! It's dangerous! Sir!!" He exclaimed, yelling after the Swede as he attempted to follow closely. The infected were coming. This was not good. They needed to get the fuck outta here. And quick.

@Krieg @Jeremi @Kaykay @TheSpringwoodSlasher @Josh M @Ivazel​

 

[Chewy Rabbits]

The Swede paid no attention to the newcomers, intent on making haste to scavenge the freshly crashed helicopter. With the shotgun (taken by Armor King), lever-action rifle, and several other smaller, makeshift weapons laying about, Frank would find one of the few pistols laying within the bag. The weapons presently was certainly far from military grade equipment, but they were far from cheap Chinese knockoffs either.

With the choices laid out for the other survivors, they were faced with either following the Swede into the mysterious fog of the helicopter crash or dwelling deeper into the gas station. For those with broken vehicles, now would be the time to hastily scavenge supplies to repair their automobiles and find gasoline.

On the horizon, the dull humming of engines could be heard, not from the iron fleets of above, but from the earth below.

@Jeremi @Kaykay @TheSpringwoodSlasher @Josh M @Ivazel @Verite

Well, I wasn't exactly an aficionado when it came to firearms. So, the first pistol I grabbed? That's what I'd be sticking with and hopefully it'll get me through these trying times. I'm not exactly eager to become an infected's scratching post if I can help it.

Still, I'd never been fond of shooting at another person! Never even done it before...Ed. But this didn't seem like a time where you could pick and choose. So, tucking the pistol away in my pocket, I rose up to my feet and turned towards the others.
​

A man with a camera was the first to respond to him. "I am Armor King and the mask is a symbol...and a promise of hope." He replied to the mans question. Then another got his attention.

It's nice to see someone keeping up the optimism around here. Even if it was some guy wearing a jaguar mask. At least he didn't speak in roars. That would have gotten annoying, real quick.

"Frank West. Photojournalist. If that's what your mask means? You keep doing you then. With the pace that this infection's going, we'll need all the hope we can get."​

Picking up the man, she would fireman carry him inside the gas station, laying him down. Grabbing a pistol and few bottles of water. Sitting herself next to him, Tina poured a little bit of the liquid on the man's face.

"..Huh."

I didn't even notice that guy. Well, at least someone was tending to his needs. For now, I need to figure out what I'm going to do. I'm armed with my camera and gun and my car's kind of deader than dead. Need to find some more gas. Maybe their'll be some inside the station.

Well, wasn't going to get anywhere standing around. So I headed into the gas station to see just what I could find.

@Krieg @Jeremi @Josh M @Verite @Kaykay @Ivazel​

 

[Kaykay]

"Huh, you okay, hun?"


This guy seemed like a fish flopping out of water.


@Kaykay

"Eh? That's what I'm here to ask you guys! There was a big crash, like, boom!, and everything! That always means there's one last survivor to save and the rest of us unite to become a team!"

At least, he was pretty sure that was the case.
​

How quaint

From the golden locks of a charming young woman, the Swede slowly arose from his inclined position upon the hot concrete of this nearly abandoned gas station. Underneath the shade and protection of the station, the immoral mathematician walked gentle outwards, his gaze distant and the words but sounds to his ear. Behind the black-clad doctor, the smoke from the helicopter had fractured, a fragment of the puffous gas acting as a somewhat fog of sorts. With a good half of the gas station masked entirely in smoky fog,, the middle-aged man profusely rose his head, speaking in a strange yet distant accent that could be easily mistaken for Swedish.

"I am doctor, flower, not a mechanic." he addressed firstly, his voice coy and sly, bearing a masked lie. In truth, he was no doctor, his medical skills were in the mathematics of chemicals, treatments and all sorts of vile liquids designed to kill or keep people alive. Moving his lower jaw lightly, the strange man hissed lightly, spotting the newcomers seeking the crash site like some sort of sanctuary. Looking amused, the Swede grabbed his duffle bag, tossing the heavy bag out in the open.

"In there, ah, you will find, mmm, three or so pistols of sorts...a double-barreled shotgun beauty...and a old lever-action hunting rifle. There is, ahh, o course, more supplies inside that I could not carry." Along with some other commodities like food and such." the Swede offered, his face beaming with joy and companionship. "My friends, take what you must, what you please. We are all brothers and sisters now, aren't we?" the Swede remarked, his voice both reassuring and uncomfortable. He was hard to tell with his posture and smile if the man was sincere or seeking people to do the fighting for him.

Behind the doctor, a shadowy figure began to stumbled through the smoke, soft groans muffled underneath a tightly-woven aviator helmet. Aware of the intruder, Thor Gundersen continued, his arms still extended, the intellectual breaking out in a speech. "Look at us, rogues and misfits, this was the hands of Fate! Let us remember this day, above all days, as the beginning of something new, my siblings." he spoke almost religiously, despite the Swede himself having a distaste for religion.

Swiftly turning around, he unsheathed his single-action, Colt revolver, shooting directly at the stumbling pilot through the smoke. Infected or not, the figure flailed briefly, the powerful bullet piercing the fallen angel's skull. With extreme violence and lack of mercy, the Swede smirked, cocking the hammer of his revolver and putting it back into it's sheath.

Turning around him, he adjusted his black jacket and tightened his gloves.

"Now, ahh, we have a crash to investigate."

And with that, the Swede ventured into the fog, not paying mind to the Infected, or more frighteningly, man that he just shot.

@TheSpringwoodSlasher @Kaykay @Ivazel @Josh M @Jeremi @Others

"UWOOOOOH!"

Akagi ran up to the duffel bag and picked up a rifle.

"This...this is..." Lifting the rifle high into the air with both hands, he cried, "THE BIMOTION BUSTER! The finishing weapon of the Sentai Livemen!"

He hung it around his shoulder as the Swede mentioned food. What luck! He'd been starving! "Thank you, thank you very much!" he thanked him as he was about to run off towards the gas station. At least, until he shot the man coming from the fog. What the hell? And nobody even seemed to react to it!

"You!" Akagi turned around and pointed dramatically over at the Swede. "What're you doing?!"

He ran after him into the fog, hoping to perhaps find that the Swede had shot an infected and not an innocent man. Otherwise, it was time for a hero to stand up!

@Krieg @Jeremi @Verite @TheSpringwoodSlasher @Josh M @Ivazel​

 

[Indolent]

For decades, Howlett had considered himself among the unfortunate few to have truly known what the inherent nature of war entailed. What horrors arose from the conflict in between fellow man, over intangible matters such as borders scrawled on a map, religious purviews, and the overreaching greed of politicians. And more. No soul could dare hope to enter the gamut and return unscathed. Sadly, not all those returned in fair condition, some falling to their inner demons brought on by the experience or worse: they became demons themselves, reveling in the discord of war. Not all could return to a semblance of normalcy at home, with the rest cast out onto the streets or castigated via imprisonment on grounds of mental instability or trumped up charges. Sure, James could consider himself among the lucky minority to have returned with his humanity intact, though it was scarred by his experiences. A phenomenal soldier and warrior on the battlefield, Howlett found the identity he'd formed amid his service to be appalling. It threatened to overtake what he deemed to be the better, more important aspect; his human side. That was why he had left the military, that was why he had left the private sector.

In any facet of it all, James hoped that no other should ever have to experience what he had. It was honorable and an admirable thing to want to serve one's country. But even then, and the wizened veteran reached this realization all too late, it was too much. Too much for a country to ask its young men to lay down their lives and serve as he had. There would be no happy medium in this regard and in the end, the decision fell to the brave souls that entered the service. Make no mistake, there was an unfathomable gout of respect pouring out from this rugged Canadian for any fellow servicemen. Just that there was the lingering sadness, the knowing that they would return, hopefully bereft of a pine overcoat, changed individuals.

In a single day, these hopes would be dashed.

Logan made a habit of keeping himself in the know in respect to the goings-ons within the country, via newspaper or radio. Some days, it was worthless prattling not fit to be called news, some such about a celebrity caught with hard drugs and the like, occasionally interspersed with tidbits of newsworthy material. That changed within the span of a week thereabouts before it all went down the crapper. Slowly but surely, the important information trickled in when it wasn't filtered. Trepidation grew in spades as contact with marine buddies on the east coast fell through the cracks, with rumors floating among fellow veterans within the city. There was no use trying to turn a blind eye to it; something was happening out east and it was creeping towards them fast. Howlett had never been one to sedentary, preferring the proactive approach and that was what he had done, taking to the fortification of the small dojo he owned. Stockpiles of rations through his connections abounded on high, along with illicitly obtained firearms (all hush hush of course). From there, he made a constant, continued effort in sending out invitations to his students, informing that they and their loved ones could seek refuge within the dojo if they needed. The dojo had been a place of peace and understanding and would be open to any and all that wanted simply that. He would see to that.

Unfortunately, that wasn't enough. In the days to follow, it became readily apparent the military hadn't had its shit together to handle what came. Unprepared and with hardly any intelligence in combating what they called the Infected, they found themselves overwhelmed. Naturally (no, it wasn't in Logan's eyes) this gave cause for the boys in green to make like a tree and leave, leaving the civilians behind to fend for themselves. This went against the very core of what it meant to serve the country, to serve the people. Their duty was to protect the people! Not cut all your losses and turn with your backs to the enemy and civilians. Needless to say, even since that and every-time the thought came across his mind, bile rose the back of his throat.

It became a nightmare after the soldiers left, with a militia rising up in the military's place, repleting them as a whole. As ideal as the move was, it was in practice that Logan saw it served hardly anyone any use. They took to exiling anyone they deemed a threat. The dojo had been relatively untouched until two days past. The militia caught wind of survivors gathering within the dojo alongside ample supplies and sought to scatter them so that they could take it for themselves.

There was no use in fighting, it would have meant the endangerment of his wards. Something that would not have sat well with Logan. Though in place of that, the veteran took to pleading and reasoning with the men as to ensure the their safety. As to ensure that no harm would come to them by either the Infected or their hands. His words mostly fell on deaf ears as the scavengers helped themselves to whatever they could before turning on everyone. Logan, seen as the leader, was immediately exiled on threat of death should he ever attempt to return, alongside a few others, prominently students that stood by their sensei. The rest, he knew nothing of what happened to them.

Until word had reached that the dojo had been lost to a horde of the Infected, days later. There had been stragglers inside when it was torched as to eliminate whatever infected possible. Details of hulking brutes amid an inferno painted the vivid imagine of slaughter in Logan's mind, burning just as the skyscrapers did. A sense of failure mounted on high for the Canadian, accompanied by a mounting sense of dread. As well as he knew that it hadn't been his fault whatsoever, it did nothing to alleviate the fact he still took responsibility for it.

As for now? He left the city with what little he was allowed to take atop the back of his Harley-Davidson Sportster. Claws that served a purpose twofold, as weapons and as mementos, a service pistol, and the clothes on his back. There were small packs of rations that he pilfered before he had been driven off, quite literally. There wasn't much in the way of options where he had to go; one way would eventually end up with Logan having to swim and the other hiking steep trails to make it past the mountainous terrain. A sardonic chuckle was the only thing; oft times he was told when he was younger that the best option in most situations was to charge straight ahead. That was all he could do.

That was what he did.

The motorcycle thrummed a constant mechanical purr, even at the high speeds he took it up to, as his surroundings went by in a blur. The steel angels of the skies were at his back, or above, as he went. Logan remembered there was a gas station some ways out and reckoned that he could salvage some supplies for himself before forging a path to survival.

It was made readily apparent that he wasn't the only one with the same idea, what with the vehicles ahead of hi--

A cacophonous crash took Logan's eyes away from his cursory observation, realizing immediately what had happened. Letting off the gas as he let the Sportster coast now, his eyes lingered on the ruined wreckage of the copter in the distance, begrudging sympathy plastered across his features. Granted, he'd his hard feelings in respect to the military upping and leaving but even then, no man should have to die like that.

Logan then realized now wasn't the time to be dawdling, this pointedly marked so by the ravenous noise at his back, prompting the man to peek over the should--

Suddenly the motorbike roared to life, a terrible bellow that drowned out any all noise as the speedometer flickered rapidly through fifty, sixty, seventy... hundred, hundred-ten. Well, now he had a marker on the horizon in the form of the smoldering wreckage and that there were others to catch up to.

"Everythin's gone ta shit and it's just getting heaped on now."

Seemed like the other survivors weren't alone, with one of the Infected at their backs. Pulling up alongside, Logan would have his service pistol at the ready and with a calm, steady hand, leveraged it for the hunter. If the clawed man on the bike's maneuver didn't work, the next action would be a bullet in the back of the hunter's skull, accompanied by a cry. "Push em as fast as ya can, we need ta get to the station now!"

@OrlandoBloomers @Schnee Corp Lawyer @Saint Guillotine @C.T.​

 

[Josh M]

"Guhgh?!"

Having passed out earlier from heat exhaustion, Wei would wake up when Tina would pour water all over him, coughing and spluttering about. Bolting right up, as though the water acted like adrenaline for him, he took a breath and looked at Tina.

"Ah... N-No. No, no... I'm good. Thanks," He murmured, wiping the liquid off his face with his shirt. Before he could stick around for much longer though, he would see someone making their way back to the helicopter. Who would be crazy enough to do something like that in this kinda environment? Wei's sense of justice as a cop overrode his instincts of "What the hell am I doing here?" and, almost completely dismissively towards Tina, began to move.

Wei followed the Swede into the fog. He didn't really waste any time earlier looking for weapons with the others when he had his trusty Desert Eagle with him. That sort of weapon wasn't exactly standard issue for a police officer like him; it was more a personal arm for him. And it was a powerful pistol at that too. Besides, he didn't want to be worn down by the cumbersome weapons like the shotgun and rifle for now, so he decided to let those get in the hands of the others.

He probably shoulda gotten to known the others, but that can wait for later. He was here to survive first, make friends later.

Though that Texas girl looked awful cute. Damn his weakness for blondes.

"Hey! Where you goin'?! It's dangerous! Sir!!" He exclaimed, yelling after the Swede as he attempted to follow closely. The infected were coming. This was not good. They needed to get the fuck outta here. And quick.

@Krieg @Jeremi @Kaykay @TheSpringwoodSlasher @Josh M @Ivazel​

"Hey! Wait up!"

This guy was going to get him self killed, Tina thought as she Followed The man towards the Swede and the fog. Catching up to man, Tina would check up on him

"Oh so you're worried 'bout his safety yet not your own? You do realize I found your ass layin' face down like a drunkin' fool, right? You sure you're okay? I mean, who knows long we'll be together, but I won't you in one piece."


Tina smiled as she looked at the man.


"Also you got sand in your hair."
@Verite @Jeremi @Krieg @Kaykay

 

[Krieg]

As soon as the black-clad man vanished into prominent fog, a moment of silence seemed to reign, his form vanishing into the unnatural, artificial fog. The immoral physician was certainly a strange man, not afraid of death or administering death to others. Hearing the clamoring voices behind him, the middle-aged man frowned lightly, biting his lower lip. With an annoyed sigh, he unsheathed his revolver, ejecting the lone bullet casing he had used to execute the presumably infected pilot. Snapping his wrist to pull the handgun's cylinder back into place, the Swede turned around with a collective expression.

Very collective, with the barrel of his Colt Single Action Army pointed directly at Wei's face.

"I am fine, after all," he paused, pointing the revolver away casually. "I am a doctor, ah, I am used to, ah...predicaments." the Swede casually remarked, the black-haired man standing at the side of the crash site. With the engines on fire, yet not exploded, Thor reached down to pick up a a beat up, military-grade Vector SMG. Looking back at Wei and the other two survivors, the fog began to finally clear, showing the remains of the attack helicopter. Outside of the gun, little remained, just cracked glass, twisted steel, and the stench of death.

"I, ah, have seen this before. Before this all happened." he started, shoving the gun into the hands of the young blonde casually. "What this...pestilence does, mmm." Thor explained, stopping to gulp deeply, puffing up his black jacket. With a soft crack to his neck, seeing nothing else of worth at the crash, he stood among the others with an imposing form and even more imposing words.

"The name is the Swede, ah, I am sure all of you aren't fond of engimas, no?" the foreigner started, smiling lightly. "Of course, perhaps we should worry about, mmm, formalities later, yes? We have, ahh...friends that might be waiting for us." the educated soul remarked, his coy tone and mysterious ways suspicious yet truthful.

@Verite @Josh M @Kaykay

---

Meanwhile, inside the gas station shop, most of what was inside was an odd collection of junk food, soda, candy, and other assortments of typical strange knick-knacks found in some novelty store. With all of the lights gone, only sunlight peered into the darkness of the store, illuminating those who ventured inside. Oddly, car parts laid about, such as tires, tools, and even some spare gasoline.

At the cashier, a certain freeman's trusty tool rested on the counter, looking a bit inviting.

Outside of that, of course, there could be more with a bit adventuring. The question is- to you further into the darkness of the store?

@Jeremi @TheSpringwoodSlasher @Ivazel [wherever you want to be]​

 

[OrlandoBloomers]

"Then we've gotta make this quick."

Yang called back over the roar of the engine, finding the knowledge that the strange guy was following them considerably less worrying than the throng of infected approaching over the hills. She knew the extent of Ruby's exposure to these guys was videos posted online and word of mouth, and while it might've been an unrealistic goal to set... the older sister wanted to keep it that way. Forget what the news reports said-- This wasn't a flu. Those poor people who were infected never had a chance, and Yang knew as well as anybody that even if they were the sweetest, most kind person in the whole world prior to getting sick, what was left afterward was... something else. A nightmare come to life. You couldn't talk with them, couldn't reason with them... All you could do was defend yourself. Being face-to-face with the infected made you do things no person should have to do.

Ruby wasn't gonna have to deal with that if she could help it. It was her job to protect her, and that didn't change just 'cause the world was going nuts; it was more true than ever.

She didn't appreciate some infected punk in a hood getting in the way of that. The blonde was alerted to the hunter's presence by its scream, a high-pitched wail that reminded her of nails on a chalkboard amped through a microphone; it probably would've terrified a lot of other people, but for Yang it just served as fuel for the fire that was her determination. She gritted her teeth and regained control of the bike after a brief swerve once the hunter clipped it, pressing her foot down on the gas pedal harder and upping the throttle as she gunned ahead with furious fervor, gears turning in her mind. This one was fast. Fast enough to keep up with her bike. Just trying to outrun it was too risky, and hitting the brakes and getting off would've just been dumb. She was vaguely aware of the hum of other engine motors as some fellow bikers moved in, hopefully to assist, but she wasn't about to wait for them to catch up while this thing was on her tail. Not when there was something else she could do.

"Ruby, hold on tight!

She took one hand off the motorcycle's handlebars, thrillseeking ways plus a couple years of biking like a stuntwoman would helping her pull off driving most other people would've been too scared to even attempt. All those tickets were so worth it now. She reached back and gripped the hilt of Ruby's goofy sword replica with her free hand, fluidly drawing it from its equally goofy sheath in one swift motion to hold the thing in her hand with the blade running parallel to the road below; She clenched her jaw, violet eyes flicking to her rear-view mirror to keep tabs on where the hooded infected was relative to them as it gave chase. She eased the bike gently to the left so the hunter was a little to their right, heart hammering in her chest and slowing her breathing in anticipation, shoulders rising and falling with each and every inhale and exhale. Though she remained focused, somewhere at the back of her mind her thoughts drifted to a rainy afternoon some time ago, before the Green Flu. Before any of this.
​

[Eight months ago.]

"That thing is so edgy."

"That's kind of the point, Yang. It's a sword."

Yang crossed her arms and leaned forward on the back of their two-seater couch with an impish smirk, propping one elbow up and letting her chin rest on her knuckle. The rain was coming down hard outside, about as rare an occurrence as any in Utah, which meant the normally-busy blonde was reduced to this. To watching her roommate practice katas in their living room. Yaaaaaay.

"I don't mean sharp edgy, I mean edgy edgy. You know, like... Dressing in all-black. Evanescence. Naruto AMVs. Ya dig?"

"Mm."

Maybe it was her imagination, but Yang could've sworn she saw the faintest makings of a smile on her normally-stoic friend's lips. It was more than enough motivation for her to push her luck and keep going, having nothing better to do than pester her roommate with the weather outside. "Soooooo... How sharp is that thing, anyway? Could you cut down a tree in a single strike?"

"No."

"What about a door?"

"Also no."

"Hmmmmmmmm. Could you... slice someone's head off?"

"If you keep asking me all these questions while I'm trying to concentrate, maybe."

Yang groaned dramatically and rolled her eyes, letting her head slump forward. "Why do I even bother."

"... Do you wanna try?"

She perked up immediately, chirping back a "Sure!" and vaulting over the couch. The other girl rolled her amber eyes, finishing the routine she was doing and presenting the blade with blade and hilt flat against her palm. "It's not like the movies. There's grace to it, sure, but using one of these is really about... emotion."

She put the sword in Yang's hands and adjusted her posture where she saw fit, gently guiding her into an at least somewhat correct stance by her shoulders.

"Don't swing. Thrust. Quick and precise. It doesn't really matter what you're feeling so long as you feel something. If you don't direct it, it'll mess up your form, but if you keep focused..." She shrugged. "Try it. I'll help."

Yang was fine with letting Blake lead, bringing the blade to her side and pulling back with the darker-haired girl's prompting.

"Coil and release. Stab forward when I do, okay? One, two..."

"...HAIIIIIIIII-"​

"-YAH!"

Now.


She wrapped her fingers around the handbrakes and tensed her fist, the vehicle's tires squealing as their speed took an abrupt nosedive. Yang simultaneously lashed out with her right hand, thrusting the katana backwards in a straight lunge for the charging hunter that was being driven forward by all its momentum-- And if everything went according to plan, all that momentum would carry it straight onto the tip of the sword. The thrust was just for good measure; if this worked out the way she planned, the end result would be the growling infected quite literally running itself through on the blade.

If her gambit worked, the helmeted girl continued applying pressure on the brakes to ease their speedometer all the way down to zero so they didn't horribly crash, veering off to the side of the road and yanking the sword free if the infected hadn't already come loose. She let her foot touch the ground when they came to a complete halt, breathing a sigh of relief as she leaned her head back to look at the sky.

"Yeah. That's what you get for scratching up the paint."

@Schnee Corp Lawyer @Krieg @Saint Guillotine @other guy​

 

[Jeremi]

As soon as the black-clad man vanished into prominent fog, a moment of silence seemed to reign, his form vanishing into the unnatural, artificial fog. The immoral physician was certainly a strange man, not afraid of death or administering death to others. Hearing the clamoring voices behind him, the middle-aged man frowned lightly, biting his lower lip. With an annoyed sigh, he unsheathed his revolver, ejecting the lone bullet casing he had used to execute the presumably infected pilot. Snapping his wrist to pull the handgun's cylinder back into place, the Swede turned around with a collective expression.

Very collective, with the barrel of his Colt Single Action Army pointed directly at Wei's face.

"I am fine, after all," he paused, pointing the revolver away casually. "I am a doctor, ah, I am used to, ah...predicaments." the Swede casually remarked, the black-haired man standing at the side of the crash site. With the engines on fire, yet not exploded, Thor reached down to pick up a a beat up, military-grade Vector SMG. Looking back at Wei and the other two survivors, the fog began to finally clear, showing the remains of the attack helicopter. Outside of the gun, little remained, just cracked glass, twisted steel, and the stench of death.

"I, ah, have seen this before. Before this all happened." he started, shoving the gun into the hands of the young blonde casually. "What this...pestilence does, mmm." Thor explained, stopping to gulp deeply, puffing up his black jacket. With a soft crack to his neck, seeing nothing else of worth at the crash, he stood among the others with an imposing form and even more imposing words.

"The name is the Swede, ah, I am sure all of you aren't fond of engimas, no?" the foreigner started, smiling lightly. "Of course, perhaps we should worry about, mmm, formalities later, yes? We have, ahh...friends that might be waiting for us." the educated soul remarked, his coy tone and mysterious ways suspicious yet truthful.

@Verite @Josh M @Kaykay

---

Meanwhile, inside the gas station shop, most of what was inside was an odd collection of junk food, soda, candy, and other assortments of typical strange knick-knacks found in some novelty store. With all of the lights gone, only sunlight peered into the darkness of the store, illuminating those who ventured inside. Oddly, car parts laid about, such as tires, tools, and even some spare gasoline.

At the cashier, a certain freeman's trusty tool rested on the counter, looking a bit inviting.

Outside of that, of course, there could be more with a bit adventuring. The question is- to you further into the darkness of the store?

@Jeremi @TheSpringwoodSlasher @Ivazel [wherever you want to be]​

While he had decided to go check the wreckage AK would instead head towards the station. Food won over finding military grade hardware. Sadly enough AK was not carrying a flashlight on him so seeing anything inside was a bit of a chore. What he did see however was the crowbar that he went to pick up before handing it over to Frank. "Could be useful." Was his only reply.

He'd go grab some of the soda's laying around because piss warm soda was still better than nothing. After that he'd venture further into the store as his hand reached down to the bat, just in case he would meet some unfriendly patrons. The shotgun he'd strapped to his back for the time being, hoping to not waste any bullets for the time being.

@TheSpringwoodSlasher @Ivazel @Krieg

 

[C.T.]

Suddenly the motorbike roared to life, a terrible bellow that drowned out any all noise as the speedometer flickered rapidly through fifty, sixty, seventy... hundred, hundred-ten. Well, now he had a marker on the horizon in the form of the smoldering wreckage and that there were others to catch up to.

"Everythin's gone ta shit and it's just getting heaped on now."

Seemed like the other survivors weren't alone, with one of the Infected at their backs. Pulling up alongside, Logan would have his service pistol at the ready and with a calm, steady hand, leveraged it for the hunter. If the clawed man on the bike's maneuver didn't work, the next action would be a bullet in the back of the hunter's skull, accompanied by a cry. "Push em as fast as ya can, we need ta get to the station now!"

@OrlandoBloomers @Schnee Corp Lawyer @Saint Guillotine @C.T.​

If Laura had lesser self-control and composure, the new arrival might have gotten her to spin out and crash. As it was, the only outward sign of what she felt upon seeing that face was a gaze held for a few seconds and a startled gasp. Just like that. That was him, she was almost completely sure of it. She couldn't even say how long she had spent just looking at his picture throughout her life so far. The name and the picture were the only presence he'd had in her life for nineteen years. Many a daydream just trying to imagine who he was as a man. A man of strong principles and unparalleled bravery like in fairy tales? The cunning con-man, as adept at twisting words as he was with sleight of hand? A useless deadbeat who couldn't keep a steady job long enough to live permanently in a single place?

That and buckets more of ideas about him had flitted through her mind over the years. Well, if it was him, she could at least confirm he was reckless, driving without a helmet. The man had aged noticeably, not quite fitting what he had looked like then. That and the world was full of people. That some of them might have faces in common was something she could easily believe. Not to mention the chances of her traveling through the mainland United States through all this chaos and he just shows up out of the blue like it was the most natural thing in the world were extremely low.

Still, there was only one way to be sure. And now is not the time to ask. Laura simply nodded in reply, releasing her grip on the butt of her pistol. She had been just about open fire on the Infected herself, instead focusing on staying steady and getting to that chopper/gas station as quickly as possible.

@Krieg @-I-n-d-o-l-e-n-t- @OrlandoBloomers @Schnee Corp Lawyer @Saint Guillotine

​

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

Shifting her gaze from the other motorcycles, she got a glimpse of movement on the horizon. Narrowing her eyes and focusing her vision, she spotted them. Too far to make out features but enough to tell they weren't really human any more. No survival instinct or care, several of them even seemed to be plummeting to falls that guaranteed a splattered demise. Laura bit her lip, trying to bring up the memory. It was a particularly boring day. She had been grounded for something, she didn't even recall. No hunting or anything exhilarating like that. The options were slim and Laura recalled cracking open an atlas and studying information of all the other states. She hadn't yet known that she would ever even be leaving Alaska and so that boring afternoon was a rewarding one, digging deep into learning all about the other 49 states. The capital of Utah...the population was roughly close to 200,000.

Even if it was only 1% of that population that were Infected and heading this way...that was still 2000. It doesn't look like that many but who knows how many are just out of sight? Laura glanced to her holster. The gun sounds would possibly bring even more. Analysis of consequences. Fight or flight, that is the question...after she reached the crash site and investigated. She floored the gas, her motorcycle shooting back up to top speed to catch up with the others ahead.

@Krieg @OrlandoBloomers @Schnee Corp Lawyer @Saint Guillotine​

The Swede paid no attention to the newcomers, intent on making haste to scavenge the freshly crashed helicopter. With the shotgun (taken by Armor King), lever-action rifle, and several other smaller, makeshift weapons laying about, Frank would find one of the few pistols laying within the bag. The weapons presently was certainly far from military grade equipment, but they were far from cheap Chinese knockoffs either.

With the choices laid out for the other survivors, they were faced with either following the Swede into the mysterious fog of the helicopter crash or dwelling deeper into the gas station. For those with broken vehicles, now would be the time to hastily scavenge supplies to repair their automobiles and find gasoline.

On the horizon, the dull humming of engines could be heard, not from the iron fleets of above, but from the earth below.

@Jeremi @Kaykay @TheSpringwoodSlasher @Josh M @Ivazel @Verite

---

Meanwhile, the "biker crew" would be emerging back onto the road as a whole, the Infected beginning to sprint behind them in full velocity. Whilst not strong in the numbers, the "commoners" were being spurred by the motoring hum of four motors, the sight of the gas station growing closer and closer on the horizon. For a brief moment, it would almost seem as if things weren't as awf-

Before Ruby's eyes, a hooded figure soared above the forming horde of Infected, the unnaturally nimble and swift Infected managing to scrap the back of Yang's bike. Unlike most infected, and even most of these "Hunters", this hooded figure was darting along on all fours. What was once someone who frequently trained their agility and swiftness now hastily dashed on all fours like some wild, wolfish, inhumane predator.

Before the two other bikers in behind, the Hunter kept his gallop, the sand kicking up underneath his feet and hands, growing closer and closer to the two sisters as blood, saliva, and green ooze drooled from his raving mouth.

@C.T. @OrlandoBloomers @Schnee Corp Lawyer @Saint Guillotine


​

Leave them. With the infected dealing with them, he could break free. He should have. He would have.... He- Shredder snarled, pulling back so his bike would place him at some point behind the Hunter.

His next move was to rev up the gas, blades out to do the motorcycle equivalent of a drive-by-slash, aiming for the back of the hunters neck.

@Krieg @OrlandoBloomers @C.T. @Schnee Corp Lawyer​

For decades, Howlett had considered himself among the unfortunate few to have truly known what the inherent nature of war entailed. What horrors arose from the conflict in between fellow man, over intangible matters such as borders scrawled on a map, religious purviews, and the overreaching greed of politicians. And more. No soul could dare hope to enter the gamut and return unscathed. Sadly, not all those returned in fair condition, some falling to their inner demons brought on by the experience or worse: they became demons themselves, reveling in the discord of war. Not all could return to a semblance of normalcy at home, with the rest cast out onto the streets or castigated via imprisonment on grounds of mental instability or trumped up charges. Sure, James could consider himself among the lucky minority to have returned with his humanity intact, though it was scarred by his experiences. A phenomenal soldier and warrior on the battlefield, Howlett found the identity he'd formed amid his service to be appalling. It threatened to overtake what he deemed to be the better, more important aspect; his human side. That was why he had left the military, that was why he had left the private sector.

In any facet of it all, James hoped that no other should ever have to experience what he had. It was honorable and an admirable thing to want to serve one's country. But even then, and the wizened veteran reached this realization all too late, it was too much. Too much for a country to ask its young men to lay down their lives and serve as he had. There would be no happy medium in this regard and in the end, the decision fell to the brave souls that entered the service. Make no mistake, there was an unfathomable gout of respect pouring out from this rugged Canadian for any fellow servicemen. Just that there was the lingering sadness, the knowing that they would return, hopefully bereft of a pine overcoat, changed individuals.

In a single day, these hopes would be dashed.

Logan made a habit of keeping himself in the know in respect to the goings-ons within the country, via newspaper or radio. Some days, it was worthless prattling not fit to be called news, some such about a celebrity caught with hard drugs and the like, occasionally interspersed with tidbits of newsworthy material. That changed within the span of a week thereabouts before it all went down the crapper. Slowly but surely, the important information trickled in when it wasn't filtered. Trepidation grew in spades as contact with marine buddies on the east coast fell through the cracks, with rumors floating among fellow veterans within the city. There was no use trying to turn a blind eye to it; something was happening out east and it was creeping towards them fast. Howlett had never been one to sedentary, preferring the proactive approach and that was what he had done, taking to the fortification of the small dojo he owned. Stockpiles of rations through his connections abounded on high, along with illicitly obtained firearms (all hush hush of course). From there, he made a constant, continued effort in sending out invitations to his students, informing that they and their loved ones could seek refuge within the dojo if they needed. The dojo had been a place of peace and understanding and would be open to any and all that wanted simply that. He would see to that.

Unfortunately, that wasn't enough. In the days to follow, it became readily apparent the military hadn't had its shit together to handle what came. Unprepared and with hardly any intelligence in combating what they called the Infected, they found themselves overwhelmed. Naturally (no, it wasn't in Logan's eyes) this gave cause for the boys in green to make like a tree and leave, leaving the civilians behind to fend for themselves. This went against the very core of what it meant to serve the country, to serve the people. Their duty was to protect the people! Not cut all your losses and turn with your backs to the enemy and civilians. Needless to say, even since that and every-time the thought came across his mind, bile rose the back of his throat.

It became a nightmare after the soldiers left, with a militia rising up in the military's place, repleting them as a whole. As ideal as the move was, it was in practice that Logan saw it served hardly anyone any use. They took to exiling anyone they deemed a threat. The dojo had been relatively untouched until two days past. The militia caught wind of survivors gathering within the dojo alongside ample supplies and sought to scatter them so that they could take it for themselves.

There was no use in fighting, it would have meant the endangerment of his wards. Something that would not have sat well with Logan. Though in place of that, the veteran took to pleading and reasoning with the men as to ensure the their safety. As to ensure that no harm would come to them by either the Infected or their hands. His words mostly fell on deaf ears as the scavengers helped themselves to whatever they could before turning on everyone. Logan, seen as the leader, was immediately exiled on threat of death should he ever attempt to return, alongside a few others, prominently students that stood by their sensei. The rest, he knew nothing of what happened to them.

Until word had reached that the dojo had been lost to a horde of the Infected, days later. There had been stragglers inside when it was torched as to eliminate whatever infected possible. Details of hulking brutes amid an inferno painted the vivid imagine of slaughter in Logan's mind, burning just as the skyscrapers did. A sense of failure mounted on high for the Canadian, accompanied by a mounting sense of dread. As well as he knew that it hadn't been his fault whatsoever, it did nothing to alleviate the fact he still took responsibility for it.

As for now? He left the city with what little he was allowed to take atop the back of his Harley-Davidson Sportster. Claws that served a purpose twofold, as weapons and as mementos, a service pistol, and the clothes on his back. There were small packs of rations that he pilfered before he had been driven off, quite literally. There wasn't much in the way of options where he had to go; one way would eventually end up with Logan having to swim and the other hiking steep trails to make it past the mountainous terrain. A sardonic chuckle was the only thing; oft times he was told when he was younger that the best option in most situations was to charge straight ahead. That was all he could do.

That was what he did.

The motorcycle thrummed a constant mechanical purr, even at the high speeds he took it up to, as his surroundings went by in a blur. The steel angels of the skies were at his back, or above, as he went. Logan remembered there was a gas station some ways out and reckoned that he could salvage some supplies for himself before forging a path to survival.

It was made readily apparent that he wasn't the only one with the same idea, what with the vehicles ahead of hi--

A cacophonous crash took Logan's eyes away from his cursory observation, realizing immediately what had happened. Letting off the gas as he let the Sportster coast now, his eyes lingered on the ruined wreckage of the copter in the distance, begrudging sympathy plastered across his features. Granted, he'd his hard feelings in respect to the military upping and leaving but even then, no man should have to die like that.

Logan then realized now wasn't the time to be dawdling, this pointedly marked so by the ravenous noise at his back, prompting the man to peek over the should--

Suddenly the motorbike roared to life, a terrible bellow that drowned out any all noise as the speedometer flickered rapidly through fifty, sixty, seventy... hundred, hundred-ten. Well, now he had a marker on the horizon in the form of the smoldering wreckage and that there were others to catch up to.

"Everythin's gone ta shit and it's just getting heaped on now."

Seemed like the other survivors weren't alone, with one of the Infected at their backs. Pulling up alongside, Logan would have his service pistol at the ready and with a calm, steady hand, leveraged it for the hunter. If the clawed man on the bike's maneuver didn't work, the next action would be a bullet in the back of the hunter's skull, accompanied by a cry. "Push em as fast as ya can, we need ta get to the station now!"

@OrlandoBloomers @Schnee Corp Lawyer @Saint Guillotine @C.T.​

"... DID YOU JOIN A BIKER GANG AND NOT TELL ME?!" Ruby yelled over the din of the engines as everyone and their mom suddenly came riding up alongside them-
​

"Then we've gotta make this quick."

Yang called back over the roar of the engine, finding the knowledge that the strange guy was following them considerably less worrying than the throng of infected approaching over the hills. She knew the extent of Ruby's exposure to these guys was videos posted online and word of mouth, and while it might've been an unrealistic goal to set... the older sister wanted to keep it that way. Forget what the news reports said-- This wasn't a flu. Those poor people who were infected never had a chance, and Yang knew as well as anybody that even if they were the sweetest, most kind person in the whole world prior to getting sick, what was left afterward was... something else. A nightmare come to life. You couldn't talk with them, couldn't reason with them... All you could do was defend yourself. Being face-to-face with the infected made you do things no person should have to do.

Ruby wasn't gonna have to deal with that if she could help it. It was her job to protect her, and that didn't change just 'cause the world was going nuts; it was more true than ever.

She didn't appreciate some infected punk in a hood getting in the way of that. The blonde was alerted to the hunter's presence by its scream, a high-pitched wail that reminded her of nails on a chalkboard amped through a microphone; it probably would've terrified a lot of other people, but for Yang it just served as fuel for the fire that was her determination.​

Ruby fell under the jurisdiction of 'a lot of other people', and when the not!hunter came flying across their portside and slashed just inches from her leg, Yang got an extremely tight squeeze as Ruby didn't so much scream as squeak in resolute terror as her other hand flailed around for her only weapon, her only form of defense, her sharpened, lethal, and cared for security blanket-​

She gritted her teeth and regained control of the bike after a brief swerve once the hunter clipped it, pressing her foot down on the gas pedal harder and upping the throttle as she gunned ahead with furious fervor, gears turning in her mind. This one was fast. Fast enough to keep up with her bike. Just trying to outrun it was too risky, and hitting the brakes and getting off would've just been dumb. She was vaguely aware of the hum of other engine motors as some fellow bikers moved in, hopefully to assist, but she wasn't about to wait for them to catch up while this thing was on her tail. Not when there was something else she could do.

"Ruby, hold on tight!​

Which was gone. "YANG I THINK WE DROPPED M-MY SWORD-"​

She took one hand off the motorcycle's handlebars, thrillseeking ways plus a couple years of biking like a stuntwoman would helping her pull off driving most other people would've been too scared to even attempt. All those tickets were so worth it now. She reached back and gripped the hilt of Ruby's goofy sword replica with her free hand, fluidly drawing it from its equally goofy sheath in one swift motion to hold the thing in her hand with the blade running parallel to the road below; She clenched her jaw, violet eyes flicking to her rear-view mirror to keep tabs on where the hooded infected was relative to them as it gave chase. She eased the bike gently to the left so the hunter was a little to their right, heart hammering in her chest and slowing her breathing in anticipation, shoulders rising and falling with each and every inhale and exhale. Though she remained focused, somewhere at the back of her mind her thoughts drifted to a rainy afternoon some time ago, before the Green Flu. Before any of this.


"-YAH!"

Now.


She wrapped her fingers around the handbrakes and tensed her fist, the vehicle's tires squealing as their speed took an abrupt nosedive. Yang simultaneously lashed out with her right hand, thrusting the katana backwards in a straight lunge for the charging hunter that was being driven forward by all its momentum-- And if everything went according to plan, all that momentum would carry it straight onto the tip of the sword. The thrust was just for good measure; if this worked out the way she planned, the end result would be the growling infected quite literally running itself through on the blade.

If her gambit worked, the helmeted girl continued applying pressure on the brakes to ease their speedometer all the way down to zero so they didn't horribly crash, veering off to the side of the road and yanking the sword free if the infected hadn't already come loose. She let her foot touch the ground when they came to a complete halt, breathing a sigh of relief as she leaned her head back to look at the sky.

"Yeah. That's what you get for scratching up the paint."​

Wait, Yang had her sword? Why did Yang have her sword??? She was gonna hurt herself or break it or SERIOUSLY SHE WAS DRIVING WHAT THE HECK WAS SHE....

Oh. Oh no. "Yang, Yang that is not a lance, Yang bE CAREFFUUUUUUUUUULLLLLLLllllll...."

By the time the brakes were hit and the bike ground to a halt, Ruby was white in the face with a death grip on Yang that almost rivaled her sister's own legendary bear hugs, trying to catch her breath with eyes wide as saucers as she stared at the blade.

"That... was......... SO FREAKING AWESOME!"


@Krieg @-I-n-d-o-l-e-n-t- @OrlandoBloomers @C.T. @Saint Guillotine

​

 

[Verite]

"Hey! Wait up!"

This guy was going to get him self killed, Tina thought as she Followed The man towards the Swede and the fog. Catching up to man, Tina would check up on him

"Oh so you're worried 'bout his safety yet not your own? You do realize I found your ass layin' face down like a drunkin' fool, right? You sure you're okay? I mean, who knows long we'll be together, but I won't you in one piece."


Tina smiled as she looked at the man.


"Also you got sand in your hair."
@Verite @Jeremi @Krieg @Kaykay

As soon as the black-clad man vanished into prominent fog, a moment of silence seemed to reign, his form vanishing into the unnatural, artificial fog. The immoral physician was certainly a strange man, not afraid of death or administering death to others. Hearing the clamoring voices behind him, the middle-aged man frowned lightly, biting his lower lip. With an annoyed sigh, he unsheathed his revolver, ejecting the lone bullet casing he had used to execute the presumably infected pilot. Snapping his wrist to pull the handgun's cylinder back into place, the Swede turned around with a collective expression.

Very collective, with the barrel of his Colt Single Action Army pointed directly at Wei's face.

"I am fine, after all," he paused, pointing the revolver away casually. "I am a doctor, ah, I am used to, ah...predicaments." the Swede casually remarked, the black-haired man standing at the side of the crash site. With the engines on fire, yet not exploded, Thor reached down to pick up a a beat up, military-grade Vector SMG. Looking back at Wei and the other two survivors, the fog began to finally clear, showing the remains of the attack helicopter. Outside of the gun, little remained, just cracked glass, twisted steel, and the stench of death.

"I, ah, have seen this before. Before this all happened." he started, shoving the gun into the hands of the young blonde casually. "What this...pestilence does, mmm." Thor explained, stopping to gulp deeply, puffing up his black jacket. With a soft crack to his neck, seeing nothing else of worth at the crash, he stood among the others with an imposing form and even more imposing words.

"The name is the Swede, ah, I am sure all of you aren't fond of engimas, no?" the foreigner started, smiling lightly. "Of course, perhaps we should worry about, mmm, formalities later, yes? We have, ahh...friends that might be waiting for us." the educated soul remarked, his coy tone and mysterious ways suspicious yet truthful.

@Verite @Josh M @Kaykay​

"Huh?" Wei blinked upon being stopped temporarily by Tina, listening to what she had to say, "Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm just... not used to the heat," He said to the woman somewhat dismissively, before continuing to move forward, "Don't worry about me. I'm a cop, and a damn good one at that. I can take care of myself, and I gotta make sure I can take care of the others around," Wei spoke assertively, checking himself to make sure he still had his trusty weapon on him, which he did, thank God.

"In fact, as far as I'm concerned, you're still a civilian, even under these kinds of circumstances, so please stay back, miss. Gettin' you hurt isn't on my priority list."

...

"Wait, there's sand in my hair?" He blinked, to which he would shake his head a little just to make sure.

In any case, when Wei and the others would continue to follow the man into the fog, something stopped the Chinese man in his tracks. A gun pointed straight at his face. Well, this was cheery. The sensation of an instrument of death being so close to the cop's face was almost familiar to him. He almost missed this and would have liked to return to this sort of "normally" dangerous life he had led before the Infected had appeared... Well, almost.

"What the fu--"

He was about to try something dangerous, like try to disarm the man that would later introduce himself as the Swede, but before he could even try, it would look like the black-haired man would holster it. Wei had to wonder who was lucky in this scenario.

"Friends, huh? That's an interesting way of puttin' them," he commented, looking out in the distance, "If you're so eager to get out of here so quickly, you got a game plan, wise guy?"

@Krieg @Josh M @Kaykay​

 

[Josh M]

"Huh?" Wei blinked upon being stopped temporarily by Tina, listening to what she had to say, "Yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm just... not used to the heat," He said to the woman somewhat dismissively, before continuing to move forward, "Don't worry about me. I'm a cop, and a damn good one at that. I can take care of myself, and I gotta make sure I can take care of the others around," Wei spoke assertively, checking himself to make sure he still had his trusty weapon on him, which he did, thank God.

"In fact, as far as I'm concerned, you're still a civilian, even under these kinds of circumstances, so please stay back, miss. Gettin' you hurt isn't on my priority list."

...

"Wait, there's sand in my hair?" He blinked, to which he would shake his head a little just to make sure.

In any case, when Wei and the others would continue to follow the man into the fog, something stopped the Chinese man in his tracks. A gun pointed straight at his face. Well, this was cheery. The sensation of an instrument of death being so close to the cop's face was almost familiar to him. He almost missed this and would have liked to return to this sort of "normally" dangerous life he had led before the Infected had appeared... Well, almost.

"What the fu--"

He was about to try something dangerous, like try to disarm the man that would later introduce himself as the Swede, but before he could even try, it would look like the black-haired man would holster it. Wei had to wonder who was lucky in this scenario.

"Friends, huh? That's an interesting way of puttin' them," he commented, looking out in the distance, "If you're so eager to get out of here so quickly, you got a game plan, wise guy?"

@Krieg @Josh M @Kaykay​

"I can take care of myself, thank you very much!"

If there was one thing in this world Tina hated, it'd be people telling her what to do. She got enough of this from her father, she didn't need some cop, who she saved, b the way, to tell her what do.


'Maybe I should have left you in the sand. You were at least cute back there. I do need no protector, ya hear?"

Turning her attention back to situation at hand, Tina would look at the three men she was with.

"Look fellas, see all the people comin' this way? You guys realize them Infected must of seen it too, right? What we need to do is gather everyone, and wait out the wave that's probably coming from Inside the gas station."


@Krieg @Verite @Kaykay

 

[Ivazel]

With the cries of the Infected growing closer, it wasn't a hard decision between looking for possible survivors with a slim chance of actually finding them and trying to find supplies to quickly fix the Impala. He wasn't too keen on buying into this power in numbers crap--Dean had never needed anyone that wasn't family, or those he considered such.

As he wandered into the gas station's interior, he'd keep a keen eye out for tools--of which he found several--and weapons. He absentmindedly stuffed some of the cellophane-wrapped candies and snackfoods into his pockets. Never know when he'd find more supplies.

His thoughts began to wander as he took another look around the gas station. Dean hadn't seen Sam in over a decade; not since Sam first left for college, leaving John and Dean behind in Lawrence. Dean was an accomplished mechanic at this point in his life, with a steady job and plenty of money to spare, as he lived alone. He hadn't become unimaginably rich or excessively happy, but at least he had his father to talk to. His friends at work were hardly that--mostly their conversations revolved around cars and sports, and even beyond that, they only worked together, they didn't hang out after work at the bar or anything. Dean just went home each day to watch some bad reality TV and go to bed to wake up and do it again the next morning.

Since the apocalypse rolled around, Dean had felt different--not a foreboding sense of forlorn concern for the human race, but a purpose: something to do with his time that he actually gave a damn about. Not to say that Dean was glad the apocalypse came 'round, but it was almost a welcome change. Almost.

Lawrence, Kansas, was a halfway mark for the Green Flu in every sense of the word. To the east lay a good part of the United States' urban sprawls with a densely packed population and little but the Appalachian Mountains to impede progress westward. Just past the Mississippi was St. Louis, the nexus of all traffic going over the river. Across Missouri was Kansas City, and between it and Topeka lay Lawrence, a city of under a hundred thousand. With major urban population centers to either side, Lawrence was guaranteed to be overrun within days. John was already out on a hunting trip all the way in Montana--Dean knew he'd learn of the Green Flu's spread before he came back. John was cautious like that. He'd always taken the news very seriously. All the same Dean had called his father before his departure.

Now Sam was a full-fledged lawyer, having graduated from Stanford and taken a job from a firm--at least, that's what Dad told him. All Dean knew was that he still lived near San Francisco, and that the Green Flu wasn't there yet.

Given how easily the military was compromised here and everywhere else though, and with their plan of retreat taking them directly into California, Dean didn't know how long that would last. He didn't know what else could've downed a helicopter but the Green Flu; the Infected didn't use weapons and didn't fly, did they?

Dean thought not.

As such, after weighing the odds of someone being alive in the helicopter--or even friendly--and the odds of the Infected coming from Salt Lake getting here first, he'd leave the luchador to explore the back of the station while taking the tools from inside out to the Impala, which had died a short distance further down the road. He kept a keen eye out for any Infected that might try to get at him, a hand on his pistol as he reached the car.

Assuming no complications arose in the process, he'd set down the tools and pop open the hood. Dad had always loved this car. Dean wasn't going to let it go so easily. Analyzing the guts of the car for the problem, as soon as he found it he'd get to work.

@Krieg @Josh M @Jeremi @Verite @Kaykay @plsfortheloveofgodtags​

 

[OrlandoBloomers]

"...Don't tell me you doubted me, sis."

Yang lilted breathlessly with a grin underneath her helmet, lightly touching Ruby's hand where it was locked around her waist in what was as comforting a gesture as she could muster for the time being. She nonetheless seemed content to just take a breather for a few seconds after that brief but furious exchange, her adrenaline-fueled tunnel vision not having quite worn off enough just yet for her to really acknowledge the coalition of fellow motorcyclists roaring around her. She flicked her helmet's visor up to wipe at her brow, left hand still tensed around the bike's handlebars in a vicegrip. "Gosh. Well, that sure was... something!"

That was putting it mildly, but hey. It worked out for the best, didn't it? It was only as she was sliding the sword back into its sheath where it belonged that something occurred to her and she blinked, eyes growing wide.

"Um... I thought that thing was a toy. Have you seriously been walking around with a real sword this entire time?!"

The faintest shrill note of a neurotic older sister creeped into her tone at the end there, but the distant screech of the approaching infected reminded her that maybe now wasn't the best time to discuss it. She quickly flicked her visor back down and pushed off the road with her foot, twisting the handle to rev the motor to life again and jump into high gear, stepping on it to make for the crashed helicopter side with all due haste. It seemed like it was serving as a beacon of sorts if the biker mice heading there were any indication, so she figured it couldn't hurt; Odds were they were all fellow Salt Lake exiles, anyway, so how bad could they be?

@Schnee Corp Lawyer @Krieg​

 

[Schnee Corp Lawyer]

"...Don't tell me you doubted me, sis."

Yang lilted breathlessly with a grin underneath her helmet, lightly touching Ruby's hand where it was locked around her waist in what was as comforting a gesture as she could muster for the time being. She nonetheless seemed content to just take a breather for a few seconds after that brief but furious exchange, her adrenaline-fueled tunnel vision not having quite worn off enough just yet for her to really acknowledge the coalition of fellow motorcyclists roaring around her. She flicked her helmet's visor up to wipe at her brow, left hand still tensed around the bike's handlebars in a vicegrip. "Gosh. Well, that sure was... something!"

​

"Yang you just... jousted a zombie mutant thingy... on a motorcycle... with a katana... and as cool as that sounds on paper... yes, yes I doubted you..." Ruby half wheezed as she rested her head on her sis' back while she tried to catch her breath. Because just. Wow. That was crazy. Yang just, Yang just murdered that thing it was freaking awes-

Oh. That was right, wasn't it. That used to be a person and it had... and Yang... but it was trying too...​

That was putting it mildly, but hey. It worked out for the best, didn't it? It was only as she was sliding the sword back into its sheath where it belonged that something occurred to her and she blinked, eyes growing wide.

"Um... I thought that thing was a toy. Have you seriously been walking around with a real sword this entire time?!"

The faintest shrill note of a neurotic older sister creeped into her tone at the end there, but the distant screech of the approaching infected reminded her that maybe now wasn't the best time to discuss it. She quickly flicked her visor back down and pushed off the road with her foot, twisting the handle to rev the motor to life again and jump into high gear, stepping on it to make for the crashed helicopter side with all due haste. It seemed like it was serving as a beacon of sorts if the biker mice heading there were any indication, so she figured it couldn't hurt; Odds were they were all fellow Salt Lake exiles, anyway, so how bad could they be?

@Schnee Corp Lawyer @Krieg​

"H-huh?" Ruby asked with a perplexed blink as the sudden and to her completely bizarre question snapped her out of the spiral of darker thoughts. Seriously, what kinda goofy question was that? "I-I, pfft, well duh. I wasn't gonna spend two months savings on a fake katana Yang. Its even got the second dagger in the other side of the sheathe and everything!" She said, drawing the shorter blade halfway out before the motorcycle suddenly kicked into gear and the shorter girl almost fell straight back off the bike with her loosened grip from the attempt, a surprised yelp and scrambling hands the only things keeping her aboard. She half acknowledged that they were heading for the crash site again. With more peo- err, infect- ZOMBIES that were gonna be there real quick. Which meant there was gonna be more of... that.

"...A-and I was rewatching the eps a few days ago too and stuff so if you want me to show you how he uses it some time I can, there was this one time-"

She wasn't sure how many times she was gonna get a chance to talk about silly stuff like this in the future, like in the next few minutes of future, so her mouth just kind of went on autopilot as she babbled her way through half of Samurai Champloo's fight scenes


@OrlandoBloomers @Krieg​