Where's the Chief?!? I need help... You think, shaking your head trying to clear your mind of the fuzz that threatened to creep back in. You stumble around the car, looking for any sign of the aging policeman.
"Whe- Where the fuck are you going, kid! LOUISE! GET LOUISE!" Lenny screams desperately.
Ignoring him, you circle round to the other side, but without anything to show for your efforts. Just as you're about to prescribe your search as a lost cause, a groan drifts from the bushes nearby. Limping over, you pull back the foliage to reveal Chief propped up against a tree, rubbing his temples. He has a dazed expression on his face.
"Come on, Chief, up and at 'em," You say, hauling the cop to his feet.
"Wha.... Wha' happened?" He mumbles, clearly still out of it.
"We crashed, and everyone's in trouble. Come on!" You urge, practically dragging the old timer towards the wreck.
"Alright, alright, what'ya want me to do?" He asks, blinking a few times.
"Cynthia's on the other side of the truck, unconscious. Go grab her before the Murdocks do. I'll get Louise, then we'll get the hell out of here."
"What about Lenny? Or John?" He questions, moving to do as you ask.
"We don't have the time. Lenny requested, and Bates-.... Bates is probably dead anyway..." You say, looking away. Chief nods solemnly, and then jogs off to his task, eyes crawling over the ridge.
No time to grieve now... There are others that are still alive... You move to the driver's door, and yank on the handle. It remains stoically shut.
Jammed... Shit. Thinking quickly, you move to the front of the overturned pickup and pull your pistol. Using it's butt, you smash open the already cracked windshield and try to clear away a you-sized hole. You gingerly make your way inside, earning a few light cuts for your trouble.
"JUST GET LOUISE AND GET OUTTA HERE! I'll- ACK! -... I'll hold 'em off," you hear Lenny yell from the back. You suspect Chief had tried to help him.
Getting yourself under her, you support her with one hand while he other moves for the belt buckle. Bracing for the new weight, you hit the release, and catch her before she hits the roof of the car.
Oh man she's heavy. I doubt I'll be able to carry her. Damn me for not working out.... You struggle to lift her through the broken glass, hardly noticing as you collect a few more gashes yourself.
You manage to drag her from the wreck, and find that Chief is standing over you, carrying Cynthia in both arms.
"I.. I can't pick her up," you breathe, gesturing to Louise.
"Here, take 'er. She's lighter. I'll take Louise," Chief nodes to Cynthia. You hold out your arms, and the Chief passes the girl over to you. As he does, she stirs. Her lips move, trying to produce words that go unheard.
"Cynthia? Can you hear me?" You get no response. "If you can hear me, say something. Anything." Her lips move again, and this time, you hear something. You lean closer, trying to catch the next ones before they, too, slip away.
"Don't.... Don't...... let go..."
"Alright... Just hold on." You look to see Chief settling Louise into a fireman's carry, a grimace crossing his face.
"Les go, son. Them Murdocks are gettin' braver," he says, looking at the ridge. A Murdock pokes his head over it, looking at the crash site below, before disappearing back behind it.
"Right. Lenny?"
"Not comin'," Chief says, shaking his head. You nod and begin to jog towards the direction you believe the Civic Center rests. Cynthia weighs heavily on your arms, but the Chief was right: she was lighter.
I'd have to guess only about 95 pounds. Christ, that can't be healthy.... Your feet hit the ground with a steady stamp, and you hear the Chief's right behind you. Through the light brush, you can see the road a ways ahead and to the right. Picking up the pace, you race to break from the tree's blinding cover.
Just as you do, you find you were right: the Civic Center is only maybe seventy-five yards ahead. Then, from behind, a storm of screeching, and a hail of thunks as you suspect the Murdocks start their barrage. Intermingled with this torrent is occasional blasts of gunfire.
You push yourself harder, willing your feet to grow wings.
=======
Lenny watches as the two dart into the forest with their respective charges. A weight seems to lift from him as he sees that Louise is relatively unharmed, and that she's got a chance at living through this. He looks back up to the ridge, and sees that now several Murdocks had gathered the courage to look down out of curiosity. Some of them stay up for a moment longer, turning to watch as the other four leave the area.
No... NO. Gotta buy them some time."HEY! HEEEEY! DOWN HERE YOU UGLY SPAWNS OF SIN! COME GET ME!" Lenny yells, desperately trying to divert their attention. He reaches back to pull his magnum, and, without knowing exactly why, takes something small and rectangular from his pocket. Above, several of the creatures are staring over the ridge, looking at the human as a bug collector would a beetle with pins stuck in it.
"WELL, YOU HIDEOUS MOTHER F-" he swears, "YOU WANT ME? BRING IT!" Almost immediately, he's answered with a wall of purple. Taking careful aim, he takes a shot at one he catches a glimpse of through the storm. It squeals and falls back. Shards plant into the ground and truck around him, and he takes another pop, felling another foe.
"THAT'S RIGHT! RIGHT HER-" A white hot lance of pain blooms forth. His free hand flies to it on instinct, clamping over the spike embedded in his neck. Suddenly, it's on fire as well, and he lets go with a yelp. As soon as his palm had touched the crystal, it felt like it had been stung by thousands of bees. This small fact only served to infuriate him more.
He looked back to his assailants, who had stopped shooting at him, and opened fire, taking the lives of three more before they started their attack again. Another hotspot of agony to his back, and then another to his shoulder. He continued pulling his weapon's trigger, determined to take as many of them down as he could. His strength started to flag, and his gun fell quiet with a defeated
click. His limbs grew heavy, but he still tried to fire his Deagle, as though not believing it had ran dry.
The Murdocks seemed to see this, and sat back, watching. Lenny's vision grew dim, and he dropped his arm, not able to hold it up any longer. The demons crept forward, sure their prey was in it's death throes. Lenny brought his left hand into his view, curious as to just what was resting in it.
My.... Lighter... Haha... Looking back up, several blurs were drawing closer, moving slowly over a blurred world.
Whys... Whys my vision going all funky.... Lenny thought, not really caring for an answer as though the question itself had hardly occurred to him. He was dimly aware of his body growing cold, and black creeping into the edges of his sight.
One of the blurs stopped in front of him, looking down. Lenny looked at it half-blankly, then down to the lighter, then back again. He knew in some vague obtuse way that if he were to use the contraption in his palm, these bad blurs around him would be in pain.
He flicked the steel top open.
"I'll... I'll see you back in hell."
=======
You'd made it halfway to the Center when a massive
WHUMP comes from behind. It's shortly followed by many painful wails. You look back to see a small trail of smoke rising into the air.
"Keep movin', son! He made his choice," Chief pants, goading you forward. The cries of pain die off, and are replaced by those of anger. The two of you sprint as fast as you can, just reaching the parking lot. Your side hurts like hell, and you swear your rib's about to turn at a weird angle and pierce something.
Risking a glance behind you, you spot a few of the Murdocks breaking from the treeline, loping towards you in bounds. Fueled by fear, you rocket towards the door. Cheif gets there first, and tries to pull the door open, but soon finds it won't budge.
"Locked?" You ask wildly, glancing back towards the approaching beasts.
"No, more like blocked from the inside... HEY! LET US IN! WE'RE HUMAN!" He yells, slamming him hand onto the door.
"HELP!" You join in, praying you hadn't just lead everyone to their deaths. Your heart sinks when you get no relpy. Then, hushed argument from inside, followed shortly by the shoving and scuffling of things being moved.
A woman pulls open the door, and aim a wary shotgun towards the both of you. A unshaven and overweight man stands behind her. She looks past you, and then steps aside.
"Get in. Quick!" She commands. The two of you gladly comply. The woman and her associate are quick to shut the door and begin shoving their barricade back in place, which includes jamming what looks like a flagpole through the door's handle. After a few harried seconds, they turn to look at you.
You see that the woman is dressed in a blood soaked pirate outfit, frilly shirt, pantaloons, the works. Even what looks like a rapier hangs on her hip.
She sighs, noticing you looking over her clothes. "Look, I work at a costume shop, and they make us wear their stuff to 'promote the store'. I didn't have time to change out of it when this shit hit the fan, alright?"
You nod blankly, somewhat stunned by the unexpected explanation.
"I'm Fran. This is Ben," she says, gesturing to the sweaty man beside her, "Who are you?"
"Uh... I'm Steve, this is the Chief, and these are Louise and Cynthia. Listen, can we save the introductions for later? My arms are burning like hell and I'd really like to know if these two are ok," you plead. Fran seems to ponder a moment before responding.
"Yea alright, let's have Doc have a look at 'em. 'EY DOC!" She calls, lowering her shotty and walking farther into the building. "Come on out! Just some survivors!"
"Eh? Whatsit? Some Murivors?" Drifts from farther inside.
"Come on, Doc's old, but he knows what he's doin," Fran gestures, waving you forward.
"Fran? You really sure that's a good idea? I mean, look, that one's bitten!" Cries Ben, pointing an accusing finger at you.
"Nah, really Ben? Look, I'll keep an eye on him. We can't just thrown them back out for the Bone Devils," she counters, leading you onward.
----------------
A half hour later, you find yourself with some free time. Turns out, Doc Morten was in said costume store along with Ben and a few others when a zombie stumbled in, attacking Fran. Acting off of instinct, she had drawn the rapier from it's sheath and managed to get it in the eye. Eventually the three of them had found their way here, although not without losses. Their group had began with eight...
Mort himself was an old geezer, but at least he was an old geezer with a doctorate in medicine. He was currently with Cynthia and Louise in a small room they had made into a makeshift nurse's station. Normally, you'd be uneasy about leaving the two girls with a stranger, but Mort seems too senile to try anything.
Speaking of the two women, Doc said they'd be just fine, everything was mostly minor. No concussions, as you had feared. They're sleeping it off in the medical room.
Chief, after making sure the other two were ok, had gone off to find food and a good place for a nap. After checking that all the barricades were satisfactory, of course.
As for you, you had spent the last half hour wandering the building, trying to keep your mind off of the recent events. You're currently in the main auditorium, and your stomach is growling fiercely now that the danger had passed.
(Choose two:)
Go check on Cynthia. Doc Mort said she was fine, but you're still a bit worried.
Go see if Louise is awake yet. Someone's gotta break the news to her...
[C]Follow your gut and try to find the kitchen. You're starving....
[D]Now that the adrenaline has worn off, you realize you're beat. Find a place to crash.
[E]Go find Fran. She seemed kinda interesting.
[F]All these little cuts and scrapes are bugging the hell outta you. Not to mention that broken rib you got back at the crash.... Go see if Doc can patch them up for you real quick.
[Z]CYOA
Steve Ames: Bitten, Broken Rib.
Hunger: 90% (!)
Equipment: 9mm Beretta, (9/13) 0 spare clips.
Empty 9mm clip
Fran:
fc05.deviantart.com/fs24/i/2008/007/0/4/Tortuga_Pirate_by_wolfbane.jpg
Ben:
www.scrcmemorial.net/memorial_files/pjes.jpg
Doc Morten:
farm4.static.flickr.com/3387/3476515109_d342c8e348.jpg
Will post pics of the others later....