The Desolate

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RazzaJazz

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Visit the OOC thread for characters, plotting and more! https://www.iwakuroleplay.com/threads/the-desolate-ooc.39893/#post-1024147

The air was stale.
It was always that way the closer you got to the city. Stale, stagnant… and dead. The gusts of wind proved futile in their efforts, and only managed to circulate the same rotten stench 'round and 'round between the skeletal remains of buildings. Even the cool late winter temperatures did nothing to help.

Vye tugged the excess fabric of her hood over her face, shielding her nose and mouth, and secured it in place by tying the drawstrings at the nape of her neck. She always made a point to keep her excursions short, but today especially, Vye wouldn't spend a moment longer in this deathtrap than she absolutely had to. The corpses had been particularly restless since the prior evening's frost. They lumbered along the roads, moving in small clusters, their bulbous and bloated heads causing their torsos to sway gently from side to side without any notion of rhyme or reason. As if their muscles were reacting subconsciously to the frigid temperatures. Like a desperate biological drive to keep warm.
Or maybe they were migrating; searching for new towns and populations to infect.

Or maybe she was just imagining it.

The spindly digits of her fingers gripped her pistol securely, poising it at the ready. A mere fifteen yards or so separated her from her intended destination: The hardware and appliance supercenter. A mechanical goldmine, all at her disposal, with space heaters and portable generators to keep her snug as a bug during the frosty nights. And who knows, maybe she would find a few manuals and spare parts so that she could get that neat ol' retro convertible that's planted at her camp to run.
I mean, what the fuck else was she going to do all winter?

The animated remains of a Mister So-and-So shambled and limped its way down the sidewalk, and once it had wandered a comfortable distance away, Vye crept out from behind the cinderblock wall and darted across the debris-littered intersection.
 
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Adam worked quickly but quietly, constructing small weapons from parts he found in the hardware store. He had a pistol in his belt, but he knew that not only was ammo scarce; guns only attracted more of them.

He constructed a gauntlet with a blade to put over his arm. "That should be good enough" he said to himself, satisfied with his new weapon. He then went to find things he could make explosives with. You never know when you'll need to get out of a sticky situation
 
Mishka wished she knew where she was. She wasn't used to this part of the city yet. Her family was dead, part of the rotting things limping along the road somewhere.

She didn't know why she was the only one unaffected. She had hid away in her papa's hunting closet as far back as possible, as mama attacked and killed everyone that was home that night. Before she hobbled away, following the screams of the next house over.

She never did figure out where she went after that.

She had taken all of papa's ammunitions and hunting supplies. She's never really gone with him. Alex was the boy. She wasn't even supposed to be aware of their quick little hunting trips. But they lived in the country, not quite that far from the closest town but closer to the woods than any other neighbor. She knew enough to survive in the wild.

But she small thing, the last time she fired a gun--she fell to the ground in shock. It didn't come as a shock when she preferred to carry papa's shotgun and use it as a bat. She'd definitely like to trade in a proper bat or something just as hard. She had more use for a machete than a gun. She had also pretty lame aim, so guns to her were absolutely useless. And there was no time to practice. The sound attracts too much noise. There's absolutely no way she can out run a horde of these filth.

It was getting late. She's been scavenging all day long, partly trapped in an appliance supercenter to escape a rotting corpse. But she found a treasure mine instead. Batteries. She needed loads of those. And maybe even a heater. No. Too heavy, she can't be quick on her feet if she was carrying something that heavy.

Mishka stopped as she heard an unmistakenable sound of footsteps. Proper footsteps. None of the shuffling the rotting things do. She crouched down low and waited. It was getting closer. Damn it! She shouldn't have checked the heaters!

She held her breath as the footsteps stopped. But she wasn't certain if she should move. She really hoped she didn't die. Oh, she hoped she really didn't die.
 
Adam walked around a corner with his gun drawn. He found a girl hidden in the appliance part of the supercenter. He lowered his gun slightly but not fully. He looked her over to check for any bite; once he found that she was clean he put his gun away. "What's your name?" He asked
 
Ash was sitting up on a fire escape as she watched hardware store or, more specifically, the corpses shambling around between it and her. She had been meaning to pick up another tool kit since she'd had to use her last one as a projectile weapon. It was a shame really, it had been a fairly nice set. She needed more nails to. And it wouldn't hurt to see if the place had any submergible pumps. Green eyes darted around as she did a quick calculation. If she was quiet, she could sneak around the dumpster, there was only one corpse over there, it'd be easy to take out with her, as she had dubbed the odd tool, "hammer staff." It was something Adam had given her before he died, where he gotten, she hadn't a clue, but it came as part of a matching set. She had half a suspicion he had gotten it at the same place he had gotten his zombie book, which she also had. Back in the car, three blocks over.

Ash, with a nod of finality to herself, slid down the ladder of the fire escape before jumping to land in a crouch on the pavement. As she straightened, she pulled her hammer staff from her back where she had holstered it. She twirled it once. Normally, she wasn't all that strong, but if she moved the right way, the amount of momentum she could add to her blow made her strong enough…usually… to bash one zombies head in. She hoped she didn't run into too much trouble. She hadn't brought as many supplies as she usually did along with her.

Without any more waiting, she went into a sprint, keeping on her toes to minimize the sound of her footsteps as she made a mad dash for the dumpster. About four breathless minutes later, she all but skidded to a halt behind the old, very smelly, green thing. The redhead glanced around, double checking that she had only the one corpse in her designated path. With a nod, she eased herself into crouch to catch her breath, keeping her ears and eyes on the alert for any other flickers of movement in the parking lot.
 
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Amber screwedose up at the sickly stench wafting up from the maggot infested corpse at the rear of the room. A forty year-old woman with hazel colored hair.
She cocked her silenced sniper rifle back into position once she had finished her bout of gagging from the smell, squinting her dark eyes into her grubby-lensed scope and watching the redhead perched on the fire escape of another building.

She watched her slide down the ladder and hit the pavement cautiously and run off behind the hardware center and sighed.
She had no one to watch over now, with the girl out of her line of vision.


She'd been following the redhead from a distance for a while, having nothing better to do as usual. She usually stalked the uninfected for a while until she felt they were ok without her, and if they encountered any trouble from the local shamblers, she'd try to pick them off with her trusty rifle from afar.

Sort of like a temporary guardian angel really.

Now she had no one to track, she decided she should at least clear out the space around the supercenter.
She took practiced aim and shot a hefty looking zombie straight through the forehead. It dropped down with a faint thump and imploded when it's belly hit the pockmarked pavement, goo leaking everywhere. She kept at it downing zombies until her arms started cramping.
 
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The rubbery soles of her boots padded swiftly across the asphalt as Vye bee-lined for the side entrance of the store. Tufts of dust and ebony curls were kicked up in her wake, fluttering in her peripherals as her steely gaze scanned the surroundings: a delivery boxtruck lay turned on its side down the way, the windshield splintered and smeared thick with blood; a wooden shutter was caught in the breeze and slammed against the side of the building; a flash of fiery red peeked from around the corner.
What the…?
Vye launched herself behind a decorative pillar framing the entrance, her slender frame pressing flat. Senses on high alert, chest heaving as warm breath panted against the fabric of her makeshift mask, she waited—and she listened. But aside from the blood pumping in her ears and the occasional unintelligible groans of distant corpses, all seemed quiet.
She counted a minute in her head, and glanced around the curve of the pillar.
Must've been the sun.
Just a trick of the light as the descending star made its trek across the sky.
Yeah… the sun.
With a push off her shoulder blades, Vye stepped from the protection of her hiding place and bound up to the door. A padlock secured the hinged clasp in place.
She holstered her pistol and sighed in annoyance, running her fingertips over the rusty metal. It would be easy enough to bust open, but certainly not quietly. There was the main entrance she could try, but that was all the way on the far south side of the building. Or perhaps there was a window accessable nearby.
…
Fuck it.
With a flick of the wrist, Vye withdrew the long blade of her machete from her hip, flipped it in her grasp, and swung the butt of the handle down upon the hinge with all her might. The metal rang out with a shrill cry as it cracked under the blow, and a second swing was all it took for the mechanism to crumble and fall loose.
With a satisfied smirk, she slipped inside.
 
Adam heard the sound of metal connecting against metal, then the slamming of the door. "What the hell?" Adam thought to himself as he pulled his pistol and went to investigate. His footstep quiet against the store's interior.
 
Amber decided she'd spent enough bullets for today, and her bullet box felt considerably lighter. There were zombies and parts of zombies scattered on the ground and their dead blood seeped into the potholes and cracks of the pavement.
Her little killing spree luckily hadn't attracted either any of the dead or the living.

There was a clear line into the front of the store now and the zombies lumbering around the parking lot would be easy to take.
She stood from her crouching position in-front of a broken window and shouldered her rifle.
She gave one last grimace at the putrid corpse and walked out of the room.
 
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The undead had all but evacuated the town square. They seemed to be drawn towards some noise up north. This made up Uruna's mind: Today WAS a good day to practice the deadly arts. Heading for the square with nothing but a dagger and a pair of brass knuckles, he left his home behind. A lonely childhood had taught Uruna to take care of himself the hard way, and when in small numbers, he would have no problem laying the undead to rest.

Some dust blew in from the wasteland surrounding the city and reminded Uruna to find a new door for the trainwagon that he currently called home. It was conveniantly placed just outside of the station, but its convenient placement also exposed it to the rough climate.
Thinking of what to cook for dinner, Uruna beheaded an undead with a single clean kick before it had had a chance to notice him.
There were still some parts left of the dingo he had killed last week.
That would have to do, he thought, nodding to himself. The town square was now in sight, its open space reflecting the light of the sun upon the nearby buildings. Today is a good day, Uruna thought whilst sneaking up on a pair of unsuspecting undead.
 
Mishka turned to the man in concern. Instinctively knowing he didn't a single bite on him. She didn't even to reply as he left to check the source of the noise.

"Be careful." she called out, wincing when her voice came up as hoarse as it was. It's been weeks since she actually used her voice last. "There a few hidden in there." she instructed. She hoisted her large bag around her. She followed him while he delved deeper.

She clutched her large gun tighter. "I'm Mishka." she told the man. "Who are you?"
 
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Amber stood in the doorway of the house she had been in for the last few hours. It wasn't really a house at all actually, it was more like a thirty year-old ruin with enough stairs and concrete to safely climb to it's top floor. It could have been an apartment before it started crumbling, somewhere with dry beds and warm rooms. Not to mention hot running water.

She shouldn't dwell on the past, it put her in a gloomy mood. Amber sighed and leaned on the broken doorway, reaching into her pocket and fishing out a raw potato.

The potato was all she had right now because some prick had found her hideout and made away with her food stash yesterday. So she cringed and took a brave bite out of the dusty tuber,
She wolfed it down out of hunger, despite it's starchy flavour. She'd have to go raiding stores to find more food soon, or she would starve. But that was considerably better than being eaten alive by a zombie any day. But first, she needed to check for any useful items in the huge hardware and appliance center.

Amber peered around for a minute, assessing her surroundings and locating any undead. It looked safe enough now that she had made room for the living by slaying them with bullets of steel.

She started quietly walking towards the supercenter, keeping a hawklike gaze on any close infected. She made it to her massacre site and tiptoed around the brown sludge imbued into the concrete ground, and the bloated corpses of the undead she had knocked off their feet.

She entered the store through it's shattered motion-sensor door and breathed a sigh of relief for making it over here safely.
She noticed the complete silence enveloping the store like a blanket and took a minute to appreciate it's lack of groans and moans.
The silence was cut short by a faint but hoarse female voice saying something like Be careful"
She swore the voice said something else but it was even fainter now.

At least she knew zombies couldn't talk, so she just had to locate the voice and maybe she'd get to talk to the first living person in a long while.
 
It had been a successfull training lesson for Uruna. He stood panting in the last rays of the sun, with a cirle of undead lying around him. That is when he saw it. One of the creatures had gotten its foot stuck in a bow. Uruna picked it up. It had Evangelion carved into it with big letters and the whole bow seemed to have a good weight and a form of artfulness that did'nt belong in this place. Exept for being a bit dusty it was in an exellent condition. A smile spread across his face as he remembered seeing some arrows in the supercentre, just three blocks from where he was. "This day just turns better and better" he said to him self as he started walking towards the shop. Since the shop was only a small detour on his way home, he thought he would make it there and back before the night came and with it the real horrors.

As he moved in on the shop he spotted a girl, not a zombie but a real girl (!), walking into the store. It had been years since he last saw a conscious human being and the thought of having to interact on an intellectual level frightened him more than any undead horror could. Therefore, he quietly snuck in behind a pillar about 10 meters from the store, waiting for the girl to dissapear into the darkness.
 
Andaman moved through the darkness cautiously, he could hear the girl following close behind him. "I'm Adam, It's a pleasure" he said not taking his eyes off the sight of his gun. "Are there any other survivors with you?" He asked
 
Mishka meekly followed behind him, tilting her head as she did. "Hello Adam . . . and no." she replied honesly. "I've never encountered non-zombies before. They were always bitten..." She calmly walked, but her eyes sharply taking in any detail in the dark.

Mishka paused and tugged at his sleeve. She shushed him.

"There are footsteps behind us." She told him. "Do you need more bullets?" Staring at his gun, she reached in her bag and pulled out more. "You'll find better use for this than me." she offered with a tight smile.
 
"Yeah, I'm guessing there aren't many of us left. Seems like the whole world is just shambling along" he said as they made their way toward the main entrance. Adam put his finger on the trigger, no doubt the noise may have attracted more of them. "I do actually, thank you."
 
She beamed at him. It was nice to finally talk to someone. And not just in her thoughts.

Mishka handed him the small bag filled with assorted bullets. She never could tell which was which, keeping the ones for the shot gun though. Better be safe than sorry.

"I'm not kidding though" she whispered. "There really are footsteps behind us."
 
The shadowy interior of the store was a drastic change from the brightness of outdoors, and Vye staggered a bit as she crossed the threshold of the entranceway. Extending her machete like a guide cane, she swept it in a small arc and took a few tentative steps deeper into the building.
As her vision adjusted and oriented itself, Vye peered down the expanse of aisle that stretched out before her. Many of the shelves had been picked clean, or otherwise upturned and toppled over. Clearly she hadn't been the only one with this bright idea.
Too bad she hadn't thought of it first. She could have just set up camp right in the building.
She rounded the corner of the aisle, reaching out to swipe two boxes of batteries from their hooks and stuffed them into her pocket. One shelf over was home to an array of nails and screws, and she contented herself with snatching up a blisterpack of assorted items before continuing on her way.
Upon reaching the end of the aisle, Vye found herself at an intersection leading to various departments of the store, and she paused to read the directory signs still hanging from the ceiling. All she really wanted was a damn generator. She had to fight her impulsive need to shop 'til she dropped.
As she mused over which direction to go, a strange sensation prickled at her skin. There was the eerie suspicion that something—no, someone, was nearby. She could practically feel the electromagnetic tug from their organic wiring.
And just then, somewhere off towards the far side of the store, she could have sworn she heard… whispering? Something about bullets. And having a use for them.
There was definitely someone in here. And apparently, they had firearms.
Well, two can play that game.
Once more, she exchanged her weapons, sheathing her machete and withdrawing the Baretta from its holster. She checked the mag: nearly half loaded, but she had a spare if bad came to worse. Then she checked the chamber for good measure: ready to go.
Quietly, she headed off, setting her course to circle just around the source of the voices.
 
Adam could here the footsteps now. He motioned for Mishka to take cover behind a counter. She had a shotgun, and he a glock 18 pistol. He could hear the unmistakable sound of a pistol releasing its clip. 'Great' he thought to himself. He then put his back against a wall and waited
 
Adam instructed her to hide, probably thinking she could use her shot gun. Mishka gave him a weird look but did as instructed. She held her position, positioning the gun like she saw her papa did before. But she knew it was going to be no use. She still had a lousy shot.

Mishka wanted to tell Adam that the footsteps were normal. They were not the faint shuffling the zombies did. But she didn't know if she could. So she waited a bit.

Her eyes were more acquainted to the darkness than he was...probably. She scanned the darkness, there! To his right, there was a rather petite figure coming towards them silently. "Adam." she whispered, alerting him to the possible danger.

The figure seemed to menacing. Mishka didn't want to lose her new friend after her months in solitude. "To your right!" she cried.
 
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