*Snow-Fallen Zombies* 2.0

"Guys! You need to go now! I can't hold them off for much longer!" Issac was bracing himself against the door, trying to prevent the zombies from breaking it open. Issac was looking around the room to find something that would help barricade the door. The desk was too bulky and hard to move, the broom over there was too flimsy and had nothing to be propped up on, and there was a chair that he could use to lean against the door. After deciding on the chair he quickly scrambled for it and jammed the chair underneath the door knob for some help bracing the door. Issac was hoping that in this time someone else had jumped out the window. He had gone back to using himself to brace the door after putting up the chair. It didn't provide much, but every little bit helps and Issac's strength began to slowly drain. Issac was strong but he didn't have the endurance to keep up with the relentless pounding of the zombies.

He needed the rest to jump out soon. He was beginning to tire and would not make the jump if it kept up like this. He urged EJ to get over his fear of heights and jump already. "EJ, just jump! I can't hold them off for much longer!" At that moment, some of the wood of the door began to splinter. The sound had stricken fear into the heart of Issac, as the showed the zombies would break in in a matter of seconds. He shouted nonsense and gibberish to get the people still inside moving. He didn't care what he yelled, just that it would get them moving. It was only a matter of time.
 
EJ panicked, watching Hot Lady Nurse jump out the window and slide to the ground. He heard her say something before her knees buckled, but couldn't hear it over Food Guy's (Issac, was his name?) alarmed yelling, telling him that he needed to jump soon for the sake of both of themselves. He glanced back out of the window and had seen that the landing spot was blocked by the nurse's limp body. He pursed his lips, looking behind him to pick up his bag. Elias looked to Issac as he slung his back pack over his shoulders, and as the door began to splinter, Issac's urgent tone raised to a frantic falsetto.

EJ slung his leg out of the window, sitting on the sill. He then closed his eyes, focusing on his breath, and before he could think too much about it, he just did it. He slung his other leg out and dropped. EJ opened his eyes when he hit the porch roof, cushioned by the snow, and pushed himself off of the original path to land behind the nurse. Adrenaline coursing through his veins, he picked her up, gently but quickly putting her over his shoulder, and followed Mark
 
Natasha laid perfectly still, practically motionless on the flat surface of the roof. She and Jarry had long since departed from the long halls of the police department. They made their way to the roof that was now slowly being coated in a new shade of white in hopes.. Hopes that they would find others who have survived the onslaught of this new threat. Right now, it seemed like a lost cause.

For what seemed like forever Natasha and Jarry stayed planted on the brisk rooftop clad in their police issued snow parka for warmth. Jarry being quite thin for a male officer looked delightfully small in his. He, motionless aswell, began peering through his scope and doing his job as usual.

"The next one will be about forty clicks north, wooden shack, aim a few feet off-" Jarry commanded.

"I know I know, accounting for wind" Natasha replied with a sheepish expression. She was also peering through a scope but instead of a spotters variable zoom, it was the ACOG of her M40. Natasha's hair hung in a bang just over her eyes and out of the way of her shot. Her fingers were stiffening being in the same trigger ready position for so long. She began to wiggle her finger playfully around the outling of the trigger as she peered through once more. The horde of undead were rlatively in he same position, roaming back and forth. The only odd thing out were that some of them would split from the back and attept to ravage at the remains of an old worn down clinic of sorts. 'Survivors?' She thought. Maybe.. Just maybe.. It was true that the undead were mindless creatures, but even without a brain, they had purpose. Clawing and ramming at a building couldn't be overlooked at this point. "Jarr, that one, keep a lock" Natasha nudgedthe tip of the rifle into the general direction. "Got it.."

It was getting a bit boring. Natasha playfully clacked her boots together. Her short brown hair was loose and blowing in the wind. Jarry couldn't help but stare, even in that outfit. Natasha lt out a slight giggle. "Eyes' on targer Mr."
"Yeah, whatever"

Her entire stack of supplies laid behind her minus their scavenged food that was packaged on the cheifs old desk downstairs. Their was a four inch long combat knife, two walkie talkies and similar handguns aswell. They couldn't be too careful. As boredom overtook Natasha saw the chance for conversation

Natasha spoke to her spotter without aking her eyes off of the potential target. "Jarry's?" She uttered with her slight Russian lisp that was thought to be seductive.

"Yo" He responed a little apathetically.

"H-How is Mark, you think?"

"I already told you Nat, Marcus is de-"

"Marcus is not!" She responded furiously, shifting her scope abit.

Jarry sighed and departed from the subject as not to anger her. Natasha regained her composure, bowing small gasps of visible breaths into the cold air.

"Jarry's, you must remember when we used to throw parties in cheif's office and become drunk yes?"

Jarry nodded solemly, but only to make her feel better. "It was.. fun"

Natasha continued reminiscing about the days before this plague and Jarry just nodded to keep her in good spirits. Natasha then took her light brown eyes away from her spoke for only a moment to wipe her snow flake from her eyes before her spotter jumped. "HOLY FUCK!! Nat they're acting up!"
Natasha quickly brought he head back down under the base of the rifle nd looked through the scope. She was right, sadly the zombies had broken through the front of the clinic and chaos erupted. She saw survivors being yaked out, split apart and completly torn to peices. "Shit." She muttered. "Jarry's.. Jarry! I can't get a shot through the walls! "Just wait.." he whispered. And then it happened. A group of people dived through the windows, landing in the white snow below as theundead quickly icked up on them. Many of them didn't make it, Natasha coul swear sheheard their bones crackle from here. Some of them did make it, thankfully. It didn't seem as though the remaining survivors would make it to safety on their own...

"Are they fucking suicidal??" Jarry asked puzzled.

"Jar-"

"I know!" He cut her off. "Forty eight north, quick cover fire on my hit." He issued orders. "1...2... hit!"
On que Natasha fired accurate shots about 4 seconds apart, aiming for the legs to low the mob down.
After her most recent shot Jerry motioned and pointed to the two objects she'd forgotten about, the flares. She stretched out her leg and hooked her boot over the closest one so she could put it in arms reach. This particular flare wa incandescent, fairly easy to set off. After it lit up she waved it back and forth. The bright red light had to be the most noticeable thin for miles, they couldn't miss it. Natasha then tossed the flare to her spotter and continued to pick off the contaminated beings. Sadly, Nat had too take care of the recently changed survivors aswell, theones that couldn't make I. She took them out in one shot each, aiming at the right side of the cranium. She could even see parts of their brain splatter across the tainted snow as other zombies disposed of it. Between every shot she took a short breath. This was all she could do for them. It was impossible to get a good look at their faces but citzens were citizens and it was still her duty to protect them. Jarry laid silent and called out commands as she did exceptional work for a Sargeant. In her head one thought shot back and forth 'They'd better make it..'
 
The sound of a rifle in the distance rocketing through the air is what cought the attension of our surviving hero's. Deep with in the city of Neigeflacon is where the shots were fired, meaning that we are not alone, and aren't the only ones who are fighting back.

-At the Police stasion-

Frantic survivers who had came from the clinic on the outskirts of town are now running through hip deep snow, tripping and disapearing with in the blanket and are never seen from again. The five who had made it, run to the doors and find that their fight to sailvasion had only just began. One of the survivers berst through the double doors with out looking and slipped on the melted snow, falling on his back and gave a grown of pain. The other survivers who were behind him picked him up and made their way to the stairwell, but it was blocked off. Nat and Jarry, as well as a few other survivers on the second floor were clearing the way, shouting down to the first floor, "Wait a moment, we'll have this cleared in a moment!" All while he shouted, the undead could be seen in the fog immited from how heavy it was snowing from outside the door. There was panic bruilding in the eyes of the survivers, and three of them ran before the berricade was fully moved for easy acess. the two that remained got up safely, but listened in sadness the screems of their comrades in the distant hall's of the building's first floor.

Jarry rebuilt the barricade as one of the other survivers brought their new guests to one of the officers, wrapping them both with blanket as they asked them questions, where they came from, are you the only two who made it. They told the people at the police stasion that they came from the clinic and there was 12 of them intotal before the breack in happned. the room grew silent after a sigh in disapointment, only 2 made it here from the 12 that were origonaly there... that's terrible odds to have in this type of situasion.

Jarry went back upstairs to the roof, to make sure if any other survivers were comming from the clinic but couldn't see past the snow-blind curtin. A blizzard was building it's self up on the peakes of the mountains and it was only a mater of time before it would envelop the city, leaving the outside hazardis to tred through even under these circomstances.

That's when Jarry saw something, comming into view from the direcsion of the clinic, it was a group of five or so, and what looks to be a Pick-up Truck just a few blocks away from them. The Truck was moving and looked to be old' Grigori's, that means there's still more survivers out there.

He ran to the stairs and shouted down for Nat, "Come quick, We got more survivers who need Asistance!"

Now is the time for battle, the voyage to the police department for the survivers who had made it this far had just begun. They have to work together in the blinding cold in order to make it to the police department. Mark is knelt down in the snow, giving covering fire for the one's leaving the roof. Issac was the second down, then Ib and Desiree. Finaly, Ej left the room with the door breacking in on him. He gave a blood curtling shout and lept from the window, leaving behind his box of knifes. Now, they are all in the snow, Issac carried Desiree from her knocked out state. Now is the time for them to push forward. Now is the time to survive.

The only question for them now, who will make it there first?
 
"Ok guys, we're out in the open and you need to be on your toes. If the zombies don't kill us, the snow sure as hell will. The police department is deep in the heart of our town, but you all know that. We have to get going, otherwise the zombies will get us." He was hoping that that small speech would get them moving. It was getting colder and therefore more dangerous. If we didn't move we would be frozen solid or eaten. He put Desiree on his shoulder and started to set out towards the Police department.

Things were getting really bad and they needed to find some shelter from the cold. If they charged straight for the Police Station they'd never make it. He looked backed to see if they followed and they were. Issac took the role of leader upon himself and wanted to get all of them out of this in one piece, he couldn't let any of them die. While he was walking he looked for spots to rest and find shelter from the cold. That's the way it would have to be, zig-zag from building to building until they could make it. It wasn't the best plan, but it's the best he could come up with on a moments notice. He prayed that luck would be on his side and they wouldn't encounter too many zombies in the buildings.
 
Mark nodded to Issac and made his way behind him, fallowing hi but a few yards away, aiming his gun and only fireing at what zombies he could see at a 5 foot radious of the group. He had the only working gun on him, seeing his Ej's was jammed and he gave Mark the 30 od. Mark made sure that the group was still together, hoping that none of the 5 that remained didn't disapear in the snow. That's when something grabbed his foot, allmost threw him off balance. He looked down at the moving snow and saw as it cleared that it was one of the survivers who had came from the clinic as they had. He gave him a sorrowful frown and poped him in the head.

As they continued, heading twards the first building Issac saw, Mark could see the high-beams of a Pick-up truck rolling past the street. He could tell that Issac didnt notice it and shouted out to him, "Wait Issac, Stop!!!" If he was to continue crossing thr road, the truck would of ran them over. MArk could tell that at first Issac didn't hear what he said, so he ran ahead of the group and fired off a round as he pointed the rifle in the air, gaining the attension of the truck driver as he stopped.

He aimed his rifle while in the head lights so the driver could see him. He shouted at the top of his lungs, "Get Out Of The Car... Now!" Pulling the bolt as a empty cartradge flew from the researves.
 
Ib had easily jumped out the small window. She wished she could say the same about the landing. As knowledgeable as she was, she did not know how to land safely. Suffering bruised and bloody knees, she clutched her tools as she ran with the other survivors. She hoped her endurance would be good enough to make it.

Huffinf and gasping for breath, she managed to follow mark until he stopped in front of a truck. Thank goodness. Maybe they could get out of here.
 
Grigori stared on in mute horror at the scene of carnage playing out before him, where at first he had thought it was a mere group of rabid looters, maybe sick patients desperate for medicine..... he now saw them for what they were, impossible as his mind told him it was," Monsters!" The word was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. He watched as a man was dragged from the building screaming, the.... things tearing.. their fingers and teeth digging into flesh as a crimson spray blossomed out in every direction.

Suddenly the images were flashing through his mind once again, his mothers sickness, sisters bleeding in the snow, HIS blood dripping upon a white floor, his fathers body slumped back in his favorite chair, streaks of blood through the snow, the ruby spray of a dying man accompanied by echoing screams..... Too much, too much, too much,"TOO MUCH!!"

Grigori's emotions exploded in an instant, fear, anxiety, hopelessness, and an all consuming rage that had never been allowed the slightest bit of freedom. His grip on his axe tightened until his hand turned white with exertion. For a moment it was all he could do to merely keep himself from flying out of the truck and wading headfirst into that shambling hoard. But suddenly he was dragged back to his senses by the boom of rifles in the distance and the splashes of gore as the legs were taken out from under a few of the creatures (he would no longer refer to them as people) and even a few particularly spectacular pops as a skull exploded in a shower of grey matter.

The sudden return to clarity brought with it a bout of shame, he owed his family more than a meaningless death... and then something else hit him, not only that, he owed them life, he needed to survive, to make something of himself, in memory of those who he had watched die, each and every one. He would live so that their memories would continue on, and as his eyes shifted back to the tailing survivors he realized something else. They all owed each other that much.

In an instant his mind went from a seemingly blind rage to a seething determination. Survival, both for himself and anyone else he could possibly help along the way. Suddenly there was another gunshot this one directly in front of his vehicle, making him come to a sudden screeching halt, in his moment of anger he must have pressed down on the petal without thinking about it,"Damn." He cursed himself for a fool as one of the survivors walked up to his truck gun aimed straight into the drivers seat.

Grigori tensed as the man shouted the order to get out at gunpoint, yet there was nothing he could do. The man had him trapped, but hed be damned if hed show it. With a grunt of annoyance he slid out of his truck and stood, his axe upon his shoulder and all of his imposing 6'4 frame hovering over the smaller, and Grigori noticed, younger man," I do believe your pointin that toy in the wrong direction friend." Noting the mans badge and uniform he gave a strained grin," In fact I think there are a few more pressing problems around than my impendin speedin ticket." He said it in a deceptively calm, silky voice doing his best to sound casual in a situation gone completely mad.

Seemingly in an attempt to emphasize his point the sound of a loud moan came from not too far away and, as quickly as he could Grigori turned. Just a few feet away stood another survivor a teenager her arms filled with tools,obviously out of breath, bruised and bloodied, and behind her one of those.. things rising slowly from the snow, hands and teeth already searching for the warmth of flesh....

Grigori acted without thought, ignoring the gun practically shoved in his face, and sent his axe flying. End over end, the heavy tool flew through the air, the blade barely managing to miss the girl, to lodge itself solidly in the skull of the creature behind her. Grigori turned back to the cop with a huff of satisfaction then returned his attention to the girl, his steps brought him to a halt directly next to her.... and his axe.

He pulled the weapon from the things head with an audible pop of dislodging bone and looked down at the slightly stricken girl," You okay? I didnt nick ya did I?"
 
Issac was shocked when he saw the truck barreling down the road. If it wasn't for mark he would've been rammed over. He just hoped that the man driving wasn't a phsyco and kill them, thinking they were zombies. He saw the giant of a man come out, say a few words, and throw and axe at a zombie coming out of the ground. He decided that he would keep a close eye on him. Issac was strong but not that strong. "Hello, Mister. do you mind giving us a lift to the police station? We have a big party and one unconscious so the truck would be very helpful." He said this with a tinge of desprateness in his voice. He really hoped he would accept, it's much safer than taking his chances with the zombies.
 
And like that, the group of survivers had just added one more to their numbers. Grigori might of protested at fist, but seeing how that the group of five were all alone, with out pertection besides the weapon in Mark's hands and the make-shift shanks in the rest of them, he had no choice. He drove them to the police stasion, where he parked out front of the door to keep the undead from comming through the front entrance as much as possible. The first one off was Issac while carrying the knocked out nurse. Then Ib, and Ej. And finaly, Mark with Grigori slightly behind him a mark continued to face the door, keeping the 30 od aimed for anything that moved.

While on their way to the front entrance, they could see two figures on the roof, waving to them with a flair in hand. One of them shouted to them in a feminin, russian accent but they could hardly tell what it was saying. The other one shouted clearly and spoke, "Get the Hell in here! There's a huge hord commin' from where you came and they seem to be hungery!" If that didn't put motivasion into their legs then I don't know what will.

They stood in the loby, totaly unprotected and unaware of where they should go. They were sitting ducks unless they could find a way either out of that room or upstairs which was greatly blocked off. It would seem that the second floor had entrapped them momentaraly on the first floor. The familiar voice from the roof came from the stairs and shouted to them, "Just wait a minute, we'll clear this out for you!"

Now is the time for battle, as the needy hands of the undead masses reach them selves into the door. The splach of dragged foot steps apon the puddles of melted snow of the loby would prove to be un-nerving to some as the huddled masses slowly limped their way to their meals.

It's time to attack, Do or die!
 
Desiree had no idea what had passed when she was unconscious. All she knew was that she was actually waking up when she would have half expected them to leave her where she dropped, not so much because she mistrusted them as because she must have been rather an annoyance to drag along with them when she was insensible.

"Uunghh..." She moaned softly as she came to. Her head was still spinning somewhat, although it was nowhere near as bad as it had been before. Her scrubs still clung wetly to her legs, keeping the frosty cold of the snow trapped in her bones. As soon as she opened her eyes she was disorientated and it took all her effort not to panic. Her eyes darted around, looking for anything remotely familiar. It looked sort of like a police station, she thought. She pushed herself up on her arms, taking care not to move too quickly.

"Where are we then..?" Her voice came out hoarse and rather a lot quieter than she was used to. Her throat was dry. She cleared it to better get attention. Nobody would pay attention to someone who could barely talk.
 
As the other survivors piled out of his truck Mark and Grigori waited, just a little behind, their backs to each other so that neither could be taken from behind. Grigori heard the shout from above but barely allowed it to enter his consciousness, he knew those things were after them.. but he also knew they needed some things to survive. As they passed around the side of the truck to get to the door an idea struck, and as quickly as possible, he snapped the tailgate open, and let the entire pile of wood hed gathered fall out, making a makeshift barrier, he only took the time to grab a single bundle an toss it over his shoulder before turning and running full out into the building.... only to find the others stopped at the first floor.

The stairs were blocked, fortified enough that it would take some time to open up even with help from the other side... time they did NOT have. The big man looked around at the few survivors gathered around and winced at their motley assortment of weapons, most seemed to have been made from scratch with scrap, the only real weapon the gun in Mark's hands and Grigori's own axe. Not a good situation, especially with one unconscious... but even as he had the thought he heard the woman moan and sit up, her voice rasping out, barely making any noise..

With his most charming grin Grigori turned back to her and leaned close," Ah sleeping beauty rises... Though there seems to be a distinct lack of charming princes around. Im sure a tough girl like you can deal though." He said with a mischievous grin. It slowly faded, however, as he noticed the way the snow seemed to have clung to the girl burying its icy fingers into her skin. With a flick of his big hands he had his jacket off and tossed it to the girl," Be careful and stay back." Not like the cumbersome thing was going to help him much in the fight, in fact it probably would have restricted him. He looked around again at the others and their weapons and did not feel particularly good about their chances... but he refused to give up.

He gestured at Isaac, the big man who had been carrying the young woman the whole way, bringing him to the front and handed the guy his axe," Take damn good care of this thing friend... I expect it back." His grin was wide and fairly friendly even in Grigori's slightly intimidating visage before he turned towords the man who had held him at gunpoint earlier," Try to point the gun in the right direction there. If you dont mind that is." Now that hed given his axe to the other man Grigori felt almost naked... he needed some sort of weapon, as he took a quick look around the room he spotted a table that hadnt been brought up for the original barricade, the legs looked sturdy and were thicker at the end than a baseball bat... He grinned as he walked over, grabbing hold of the end and wrenching, while simultaneously kicking the base.

The leg snapped free with a satisfying spray of splinters and Grigori turned back to the door, in his right hand the makeshift club, and in his left, the bundle of firewood, swinging on a rope like a medieval flail. He hoped the damn things held up long enough.
 
"I heard you!!" Natasha shouted back to Jarry. She was almost blanketed in white snow from lying so stillfor so long. She fired off one last burst before takingher leave.

She made her way down to the barricade that the two of them worked oh so hard to fortify. She was still abit iffy about tearingit down if these circumstances but it couldnt be helped.

Natasha let out faltering grunts and gasps of air as she and Jarry began pulling apart there blockade... Again she was iffy about that.

When it became just spacious enough to pass through,they stopped and gazed upon those that they were risking so much for. And that alot..

For a moment, Natasha fell silent.

Jarry slowly facepalmed. "Holy S-". Natasha almost ran through him as she made her way to a face she hadn't expected to ever again lay eyes on. " MARCUS!! " She yelped as she basically threw her self at him, jumping into his likely weary arms with a tearfilled face. "I-I thought you were..."
 
Issac took the axe from the Grigori. "thanks... I guess." In truth Issac wasn't too used to swinging and axe. He was strong enough and probably could pick up quickly but just doesn't know right now. Issac took up a sentry position near the door while the others did their business. He turned around when a girl came out of the other side of the barricade. He saw that it was a friend of Mark's and turned around. He had to focus on protecting the group while they shuffled onto the second floor.
 
Asami, a girl with casual clothing, which is ripped, was already on the second floor. She was sitting in one of the cells with it locked. 'This is some mess I got myself into. Wonder how I can get out of this mess... ' She hangs her bows and arrows on her back, grabs the keys, and unlocks the cage. She locks the cage behind her and hooks the keys to her pants.

"Wonder if anyone will come here.." She hears people from the lobby, "Hmm.. I guess someone did come."

She takes a few steps back and switches out to her bow and arrow. She takes a ready stance. She gets ready to shoot the next head the pops up from the stairs. 'Don't let your guard down... Don't let your guard down...' She is aiming at the stairs, thinking a zombie might pop up any second now. 'What am I doing? This might be a human for once!' She puts her bow and arrow down for 5 seconds then puts it back up. 'No... I'm not letting my guard down. I could die right here right now if it's not a human...' She closes one eye and focuses her eyesight better. She begins to shake a bit.

She thinks back to the time she was nearly bitten. She knew she cannot do that same mistake. The only reason I survived that was because of luck... I might not have that luck if I let that happen ever again. She still aims at the stairs, hoping that she would not make that mistake.
 
Before Natasha came from the second floor, Mark observed the marching of the undead as they went around Grigori's Truck. He took his aim at one of them and was about to fire, when she tackled him and caused him to miss fire into the ceiling. He stumbled forward for a moment, trying to get his focus back from her pounce and when she shouted his name. Mark turned his head to see who it was but knew right away from that Russian accent that it was Nat. "Natasha, I thought you were.... well, yeah... as well. It's so good to see you, comrade."

The moment has passed and the barricade was down. Now they have a chance to get to the second floor safely and Mark took charge. "Alright everyone! Get up the stairs! The lumber-Jack and I will cover you. Move, now!" Pointing towards the stairs, Mark motions them to go up them while he remained behind to make sure everyone would be safe. He looked to Nat and told her, "That means you too... I don't want anyone else to die today."
 
The group ran to the stairs, only one was left behind. Ib...

She was grabbed before anyone would notice her disappearance, she shouldn't of been standing that close to the entrance. Half way up the stairs, Mark turned to hear the bloodcurdling scream of Ib shouting out to them for help. All who could hear her voice would stop and shiver at the sound of that young girl being attacked by the foes outside. Her leg was caught by one of though's things and was slowly dragged out from the building. Mark ran from the stairs, jumping from the third step as he came to the door, took his aim and could no longer see her body, but could hear her voice in the distance. She was gone, and Mark would just stand there and stare out in the cold, white wall that was in front of him, to the left of the truck and slowly came closer to him. He felt something grab his arm and turned to see Grigori look at, straight in the eyes, and shook his head in disappointment. The girl who he had just saved only moments ago was gone and there was nothing they could do for her now. Mark looked at him and shouted out of rage, "No! She's just a little Girl! This kind of shit can't happen to kids like her! I won't accept it!" Mark was about to turn and run through the snow, just so he could see Ib's face. Even though the two of them hadn't gotten to know one another through the time they spent in the clinic, Mark still saw her as a child, something that needed to be protected against the dangers out in the world at large... she was innocent.

It was a great loss to the group as a hole, loosing someone that young.

The rest of the group, how ever, made it to the second floor and have been there for a few hours. Before leaving the first floor, Mark closed the front door so they would have a harder time braking in if they wanted to. Using the broken pieces of table that Grigori made his make-shift club with, Mark pried the door closed, so even the strongest man in the village couldn't brake his way through though's steel doors.

While our hero's made their stay in the office room of the once great Police Station, Mark left the group to find his commanding officer's office, as if he wanted to report what had happened just a few hours ago. Nat told him that Jerry, Herself as well as Mark are the only surviving Policemen in the city who once had over 125. What a number to fall back on, that would mean that over 120 of them had died from all of this. Mark couldn't think after that, let alone after seeing Ib be dragged out into the blizzard and have god knows what done to her. He didn't want to think about anything anymore, he just wanted to sit on the couch in his Sargent's Office, Natasha's office, and be by him self for a while like he was in the clinic, alone until someone wanted something from him.

Grigori, Desiree, and the rest of the group had made their aquatints with the other group at the police station just fine, and they welcomed our hero's with worm hearts. Desiree would notice only a few other survivors from the clinic made it here, only two of the twelve that once were. Now is a time to socialize with one another, for the fact of building a relationship with someone would cause your strive for survival to increase ever so much, it could mean life or death.​
 
The blood curtling screaming sent shivers down Jonahs' spine the poor girl, he could only imagine what had happened to her. His grip tightened around the metal rod he'd used to defend himself, even now he questioned whether or not it was all real. People don't just come back from the dead it's impossible! That's what he'd said before but after having witnessed his nieghbor limping through the streets with no arms and a busted leg. The worst part to him was having to kill the very people he'd grown up with and known most of his life. Mark had come back up the steps soon after the screaming stopped, Jonah was about confront him but the look on his face said he wasn't in a talking mood. Jonah looked aroun the room is was hard to believe ther were so few of them after after just a couple of days.
 
Issac rushed up the stairs and saw Ib get eaten alive. He took it the hardest. He felt like it was his responsibility. He was crying out inside, but on the outside he had to be calm and collected. He brushed it off, well he tried to. Small parts of his sadness showed. He had to be the leader and not get anyone else killed. "Ok guys... we need to stock up on weapons and get out of this hellhole. I can't afford to lose anymore of you." His voiced sort of cracked at the end, making his sadness obvious. Deep down he wanted to be like he was a couple hours ago, crying in a corner, but he couldn't. He had to be the model survivor. He swallowed his sadness and looked around. He could probably rally some survivors and make a plan to get out of the police station. At least here they would get some actual weapons instead of the shitty makeshift ones that Ib had made. Not that those were bad, it's just that guns and stuff were better.
 
The scream was heart wrenching. Natasha remembered it clearly. She remembered Mark rushing down the stairs, quite a reckless action if she did say so herself. She had taken cover action behind the wall nearest to the door that the child was ripped from, aiming her rifle just off of the paked edged enough to get a glimpe of the door. It was in case more of them tried to enter. Though it seemed Grigori was there to comfort Mark. Nat was sad to realize that she couldn't do so herself. She had no idea what that group had been through from their days on end, isolated in that deathtrap back in town. She lowered her weapon with a sigh as Jarry led the other upstairs.

The group spent their time socializing, learning each others names, the real basic stuff. Jarry spent his free time trying to lighten the mood. Whoever this Ib was, she must've ben very important. So Jarry told jokes, jokes that were so not funny and dull that it actually made you laugh. Mark sat alone, a foul, lifeless expression being worn. This saddened Natasha for she didn't know what to be done to help. She sat next to Jarry, eyes in her lap wearing a similar but worried expression. Jarry gave her a slight nidge before whispering into her ear. "He'll be okay." She only nodded
 
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