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South. Always south, in a roving, roundabout manner. It wasn't like traveling back Before. Hell, if it was, this would have been a day trip rather than a year's worth of heartache and blood. But some good things have come of it, even if they were rationed out in portions just small enough to stave off thoughts of suicide. Headed down the road, the Hordebuster began to roll through a section of once inhabited township that the signage named "Headland". Possible jokes about the name (of the junior high school variety) spun through Ash's head, prompting the smallest laugh. Take them where you could get him. Might as well.

After passing a couple of restaurants, Ash began to slow the forward progress of the 'Buster. There was an open field to one side of them; it looked like it was used for sporting events at one point in time. To the other side of the road were smaller streets breaking away from the main highway, filled with what promised to be a series of single level houses with attached garages and acceptable lines of sight between them. But what made him come to a stop was the sight of a building with prefab sheet steel exterior walls and big red letters reading "City of Headland Fire & Rescue".

Ash ran his hand through his hair. It had gotten a little longer than he preferred it generally, but haircuts were something of a luxury these days. He nodded his head, bobbing it slightly to the side as if contemplating something. Finally, he heaved a big sigh and spoke to the other three survivors in his truck. "Okay." A look resembling determined optimism came over him, "Okay, I like our chances here. Better than the last few places... Alright, we need food and meds. Weapons and ammo wouldn't hurt, either. Best as I can see, here are our options: Neighborhoods across the tracks here and up the road, there. Little ways back there are some restaurants. Probably raided out, but I wouldn't give pass up a #10 can of whole tomatoes if they had it. And right there," he said, pointing out of the window toward the Fire & Rescue building, "could be something. If the Fire Department hasn't been cleaned out, it could contain emergency rations, blankets, medical supplies, even weapons. If there's a tank truck in there, they have to carry potable water by law, and tons of it. IF," he stressed, "it hasn't been scavenged to hell and back."

"Food takes priority. Houses will be the best spots for that. We can split into teams and clear a few of them, wrap things up with the Fire Department. If you think I missed anything, now's the time. Sound good?"

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Thalia remembered the old "Charlie's Angels" TV series. It wasn't really a great show, persay, but it did advance the idea that women could kick ass in a decade where it was largely assumed that they couldn't. So go them. She remembered the movies that came out, too. They were a little better, but let's face it, people weren't really going to see them because of GRRL POWER. Ok, admittedly, she kind of liked the movies. Not that she would tell anyone, but she also liked My Little Pony, so her taste in fine film and television series was questionable.

The point in her mental tangent was that, arguably, she was reminded about Charlie's Angels because of the relationship she had with the other two women on her House Clearing team. If ever a movie script would be written about three badass women doing badass women stuff, it would be about the three of them. They'd embellish certain things, obviously, and they would all have perfectly coiffed hair and clean shaven legs, but Hollywood would just have to be permitted their little flaws for the sake of a good story. With this in mind, Thalia couldn't help but crack a little smile from behind her very Nordic shield.

She had mourned for the previous owner of that shield, and felt that she would have approved its current holder and its current use. But her mind was in the present, and that present was with her new friends. Thalia stood with Beatrice and Thana, ready to take point with her big Viking shield and Ruger pistol. Her little mental foray into television of yesteryear aside, the mixed Latina lady known to a few as Angel braced herself for the initial push into the residence. After this, she intended to cut herself a new spear from the spring saplings; it would do wonders to open her options for these small operations. Just now her knife and pistol would have to suffice. Upon Thana's query as to whether they should "clean house", Thalia responded to the affirmative. "Yah, ready on your signal. You good, Killer Bea?"

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It always seemed to come with stress. Sure, Wayne was a hell of a guy, but he had his own demons. It was exactly the kind of a thing that Hank could relate to; it wasn't that long ago that he had his own descent into mental illness. Seeing dead loved ones. Hearing their voices but never quite catching what they said. It was a form of hell that he had to live through for too long. If there was any one thing that was positive about the world becoming a playground for the shambling dead, it was that seeing actual dead people walking around jolted his brain out of the delusions that ensnared him.

Wayne? Well, his demons weren't remotely as horrifying. Not as horrifying as the real threats out in the world. Permit the man his little idiosyncrasies. That and the fact that he could channel more unchecked aggression into a single gut-punch than any man Hank had ever met. It was art.

The truck refusing to budge another foot was coming. He knew it was coming, and there was no stopping it. The goal was to just get as far as he could on what the broken down shitbox had left. Well, he had just found out what was left, and it still pissed him off. While Wayne expressed his frustrations in the manner of his own choosing (so to speak), Hank instead contemplated the possibility of just sitting there until his biological needs forced him to make the hard decision between moving or soiling himself. Even then, it would likely be a coin toss.

"Wayne, uh... Hey there, bud?" he said tersely, rubbing his temples slowly, "Do you think it's in the realm of possibility to - oh I don't know - give me a minute or two of quiet time while I decide if it's a good idea to slam my goddamned head into the steering wheel until it's naptime, hmm?" He groaned, fully aware of the futility of reasoning with the man in this state unless something of extreme and immediate importance was looming. "Alright. Alright, okay." he whispered to himself, "We're doing this." He moved to open his door, only to be surprised by a wholly different voice coming from a little piece away. Apparently, it was a Roman. The vaguest expression of "What The Fuck" could be read on his face, which slowly twisted into the much, much less vague, becoming true incredulity. He stepped out of the truck and retrieved his shovel. He liked that shovel. He'd used it plenty.

"Whoa now. Hold on there, History Channel." he said bluntly. "My pal here's working some shit out, but while he's doing that, let me ask you a question: Did you dress like that before the world went to shit?" He shifted his shovel behind his neck and rested his arms across it, giving the older man a sort of casual, cruciform stance. "Cause I mean, I've seen plenty of nutbars both before and after, but I've never seen someone actually choose to reinvent themselves into god damn Spartacus." Hank halfway turned his head in Wayne's general direction, "Isn't that right, bud?" He was obviously buying his friend a little time to right himself, and simultaneously attempting to judge the tiny reactions in the newcomer.

Nonetheless, he wasn't stupid, using the brief conversational hiatus to give a listen into the wilderness around them.

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It had truly been a glorious day. Kneeling on the ground before the cross, Genevieve finished her silent prayer. It had been eventful getting to this point. Once she said Amen, she stood back up, picking up the sword she had laid on the ground next to her. God's sword, she started calling it. The Sword of Mercy. It's sharpened blade had cut many a vermin she had run across, even those here at the church. It had pained her knowing people had sought safety and sanctuary in a church only to perish and wake up as one of...those.

She sheathed her sword and took in a breath. Arrangements were not ideal, but God often put you through hard times in order to reward you kindly later. "Thank you, Father, for your most bountiful blessings," she said to herself. She walked through the front doors of the church, anxious to get a better understanding of her area.

Once out, she checked the surrounding area and her eye hit a strange sight. A sight she had not seen. A rather large looking vehicle was perched alongside the road, and there were people! Why, this was fortuitous indeed! Eager souls she could help! Surely God had put them in her path. But, she also knew the world now was more dangerous than ever. She had to go carefully. So, sword at her side, gun at the other, she stepped forward towards the truck.

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Riley had spent a little bit of the morning sleeping in the back of the Hordebuster sitting next to Amelia, she had woken up about two hours ago. She looked over towards Amelia and smiled towards her, since Newnan fell and managed to get reunited with Amelia she didn't want to leave the girl out of her sight not after what happened to Chloe. Riley ran a hand through her short hair, she decided to cut it a few weeks ago before losing her knife when a walker tried to grab her by her hair. She did miss her long hair, but it was probably for the best now anyway.

When she felt the Hordebuster come to a stop Riley turned to look over towards the window seeing the town that they were in it did certainly look pretty promising. Though rundown in some places but for the most part none of it didn't look like it was a warzone of some kind, her attention turned over towards Ashton, and then Amelia as they spoke. It was a sound plan for now, they were low on just about everything at this point. Looking out the window once more she stretched slightly before finally speaking up, seeing a sign for a middle school just down the road as well.

"There is also Headland Middle School just down the road, the cafeteria could contain some food, and the school's nurse station could also contain some kind of medical supplies." Riley said as she reached down to grab her backpack, though it could also be fairly dangerous since schools were most likely converted to shelters in the early days of the outbreak. "That's if it wasn't turned into a shelter of some kind in the earlier days." Riley suggested, though there were a lot of good places and restaurants nearby that they could hit which she didn't have any issue hitting either.

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Erica looked at the crickets and worms for a little bit longer, she shuddered slightly at the thought of even eating them or wondered what they would even taste like as well. But food was food as well, Erica then knelt down opening the can of spam that she had in there and took her knife digging out about half of the can. She didn't have any other containers with her as she sighed and winced slightly picking them up in her hand.

She turned her head over towards the road as she noticed the noise finally stopping which was either a good sign or bad sign, maybe there were people in trouble, or they were hostile and they were scouting out the area. As much as she wanted to use the camp for a little respite from being out on the run for so long. There were still walkers in the area looking over towards Preslee and waved for her to follow her. "C'mon lets keep moving." Erica said, as she headed south east back towards the main road 177, figuring that they could probably scout out where that noise was coming from.

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While the others were no doubt looking outside for places to scavenge for food and supplies, Jack was looking for something else - a sign. Every time they arrived at a new place, it was one of his top priorities, if not THE top priority. Another piece of evidence that Tatiana had been there. Another guarantee that they were on the right track. Another chance to let out a breath, to release a bit of tension in his shoulders or his jaw - to know that his wife and child were still out there...To know that they were alive and fighting. He clenched his hand for a moment, sending a silent prayer - not to a higher power but to Tatiana. New city. Be safe, solovey. I love ya. Sometimes, he could've sworn that after he sent a thought to her, he'd catch the scent of the soap she had always used. Sometimes.

Jack nodded, listening to Ash's rundown on the area. He had to admit, he wanted to search the houses first anyways - for supplies but also for the chance that Tatiana was holed up in one of them. It had been what they had done in their month together before Newnan - go from house to house. It was where they had played Monopoly together, a game that he had only managed to play with one girlfriend without breaking up...It was just another little moment where he knew that she was the only one for him. If only he had fought harder to stay with her.

"Clearin' houses sounds good to me," Jack began, mulling it over. "Middle school...Odds are, it might be overrun, but it's worth a look. Think goin' to that one as a group, like with the Fire Depahment, would be best." He then glanced out of the truck, seeing if there was anything else he missed, only to spot...a nun with a sword? "Uh...Did anyone ask for a nun? Because she ain't for me," Jack said, staring outside.

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Over the past year, Beatrice had lost her gun - it had been a bittersweet moment that would have been potentially catastrophic in her mind if she hadn't learned to shoot a bow during her time at Newnan. Now, the bear archery bow fit in her hand comfortable, the quiver of arrows at her side. All else failed, she also had a hammer on her. It wasn't too bad as equipment went, but there was another new change, compared to her situation years ago - she had people with her. She wouldn't have to come up with a creative way to use her salt and pepper packet as a weapon if her bow was taken away from her.

It was as nice as it was nerve wracking, learning to depend on other people. Despite Newnan functioning as a community, it had been relatively easy to remain closed off and emotionally distant to those around you. In the close quarters they functioned in now, it was so much harder. Her fingers flexed around the handle of her bow and she nodded at Thana, notching an arrow. "'Course. Maybe there'll be SpaghettiO's in there for you," she quipped to Thalia. She smirked slightly at the thought, before the smile faded and the stone cold neutral expression returned, as she looked at the cabin. She didn't want to admit it, but she needed to rest - they all needed to. It'd already been a long morning.

Killer Bea though. It was a nickname she could get used to.

This time I am throwing some Weather at you folks, so be ready. This will effect you until further notice. It is randomized for each location so even I don't know until it is rolled exactly what you are getting. Brace yourselves folks because Mother Nature, as many of have learned in the past can be an utter bitch.

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It looked like the women had this covered. But then the winds picked up and things started blowing around. Winds were not anything uncommon but still. It could make an already dangerous situation a lot worse and meant that the guys couldn't just hang out on the front porch sipping tea and playing patty cake like a bunch of butt pirates. Wow... Thana was in a mood today. Glancing towards Thalia, Thana dropped the leader card and shook her head. Thana was intent on taking point. She had been pulling shit like this for the last year. One bullet, just a pocket knife. She always insisted on taking point even if the other woman had a shield.

Right then a piece of board, albeit small, flew by Thana's head and she barely was able to move. It cutting her cheek before it hit the door. "We move fast, split up inside. Soon as the first room gets a clear, Manny move Alex inside," Thana said a trickle of blood lined down her cheek. Checking the door she pushed it open and pointed her gun straight ahead. Looking around, she checked behind it before opening the second door and swinging it open.

The main room was large with a kitchen in the back. "Bea to the left. Thalia, right down that way," she said as she held one had on a door and looked at the dusty furniture. "Alight front room cleared, inside now." Standing there, she was ready to get both the doors shut quickly once the men were inside. The place looked like it hadn't been touched since the outbreak. Newly moved in. There was still plastic bags on the floor that had been taken off the couch. Maybe it hadn't been lived in on second thought. Maybe it was going to be a show piece house. Would make since there were no other houses done on the street yet.

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"Cock juggling thunder cunt!" Wayne yelled at the air as he finally stopped behind Hank as he exited the truck. He eyed the Roman. "His name is Maximus Decimus Meridius, Commander of the Armies of the North, General of the Felix Legions, loyal servant to the true emperor, Marcus Aurelius. Father to a murdered son, husband to a murdered wife. And he will have his vengeance, in this life or the next.." Wayne said proudly as he held his arms out and his voice level increased as he projected as if he was speaking in the grand Colosseum itself. "Fuck man, where's your skirt, oh shit, sorry. Tunic."

Wayne didn't give two shits about what the guy said. "My life is a swirling shit filled toilet that just won't flush. I don't think I can die." Peering over the mans shoulders, he got this deranged look on his face. More than it had been. In fact he looked happy. Not flying unicorn Happy! but gleeful and sadistic. "Shit pence, time to clock in. Daddy's got to stretch his legs," he said as he pulled off his scarf and yanked out his Machete from the back of the truck. "To Infinity and beyond!!!"

He ran, right past the man and tripped, nearly busting his face right open but he caught himself. "Mother piss bucket, let's do this!" he said as he ran right into the group of walkers. It was a sloppy throw but hey, it worked, barely. catching one in the leg and making them fall to the ground. Wrapping his scarf like a rope around its neck he popped the head off and kicked it back towards the swamp. "Fuck yeah, Williams ain't got shit on that punt. Go Giants!"

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A light breeze traveled through Okefenokee Swamp, reaching Robert as he closed the distance between himself and the peculiar commuters. He vaguely shivered as his body accustomed to the slight change in temperature, but the humidity still struck his sweat glands ruining his favorite shirt. As clouds gathered above, the survivors grew wary of each other. Robert watched as they mocked Hadrian's attire, painting a clear picture of their character. Stepping forward, Robert joined Hadrian's side - expressing his disdain for the strangers through lack of eye contact. Right as he planned to speak his mind, the dammed escaped the swamp's skookum house. Their moans grew louder as they cruised through the dirt road and looked to feast.

"We need to get out of here," Robert told Hadrian before one of the other men rushed forth into the fray. Robert's eyes widened in fear for the man's life, quickly turning towards Hank to see if he would do something about his lunatic partner. "No! We don't need to fight them!" he called out to Wayne, hoping his words would get through the man's seeming inability to cope with reality. He watched Wayne take down one of the walkers, but the numbers were not in his favor.

He looked back at Hadrian before grunting in frustration. "We need to help him..." he said bluntly, knowing the right thing to do would endanger them both. This had not been the first time Robert encountered people with the absence of vigilance. He's had to bail out many individuals who put themselves in inessential danger and this was no different. Therefore, Robert gave a quick prayer, prepared his wooden dowel and started into the fray. "Lord give me your strength."

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Preslee peeked into the can of slimy critters and was forced to look away. Her acute hate for insects almost made her throw up when imagining the possiblity of eating them. She didn't say a damn word as she tried to keep whatever was left in her stomach from flowing upwards. After taking a necessary gulp, she took a deep breath and continued looking through the cabin. Unfortunately there wasn't anything worth their time, probably because the place appeared previously pillaged.

When the fain noise from outside stopped, Erica expressed her desire to keep moving - find out what was out there. Preslee on the other hand did not want to go. Despite the lack of supplies, the camp was whole. The windows weren't broken and the door hinges worked. They were also in the woods, so there had to be wildlife. All they would have to do is get rid of the walkers in the area and everything would work out just the same.

However, the realization hit as soon as Erica walked out of the cabin. Being alone was worse than being safe. Preslee found herself following suit. Erica was a strong female and seemed to understand the world they were in just a little bit more than Preslee. A leader like her could be the answer to a world like this. "What do you think is up ahead?"

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It was almost a god-send to finally being able to sit down and just do nothing; no walking, no looking over ones shoulder, no fear of what was lurking just around the corner. Just sitting down was luxury none of them could normally afford, so his pray went partly to God for letting them find that little piece of Paradise. But Manny's question of "For what?" made Alexander look back up at him again. He figured that Manny knew what he meant, but that it was no big deal helping him around. Friends were like that. Alexander gave Manny a tired smile, and closed his eyes again.

Alexander payed only partially attention to what the ladies of the group said, instead feeling the wind blow briskly in his face and dirty, thick hair. But then the wind started picking up harder and harder, until a piece of board came crashing into the door of the house. Alexander looked up to see a trickle of blood run down Thana's cheek, before she ordered everyone inside, annoyingly specifying Manny to get him inside after the room was cleared. Or more than annoying, it hurt him. But with the wind picking up, he wasn't about to start arguing. Not now.

"Come on, Manny. Tea-time's over." Alexander said to Manny, starting to push himself off the porch with his right foot and hands, leaning against the wall as best he could with the help from Manny. They'd done this countless times over the last year, so the routine was drilled into them like how to clean an M16A1 or set up the radio on his back. With Manny's help and Thana's all-clear, Alexander limped inside with Manny's help into the front room. "Help me to the couch." Alexander continued, limping his way over to the couch in the left corner of the room. Slumping down into the couch, dust flying all over the place as he landed, Alexander looked at Thana. "Manny and I'll hold here. Shout if you'll need help."

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Before Nigel "Hadrian" could even get an straight answer out of their first man of the truck, another one came into view on almost perfect cue, like the antagonist in a Greek play about life and death. Nigel's sword-wielding hand went upwards in a defensive position, ready to anticipate an attack, but he lowered his gladius again when shovel-man just spoke with him. But not before he had started to do what every student of his who thought they were cool and rebellious had done; try to make fun of his Roman equipment.

Nigel "Hadrian" looked from the man with the shovel, over to Robert with a look of annoyance, and back to Wayne and Hank. He very much wanted to tell them, in good teacher fashion, how the armour and weapons he used was much better than the shovel on his shoulders, but frankly there were bigger issues at hand. "Very funny. But we don't have time for chit-chatting like that; like I said, there's a..." he started to say back, but being interrupted by the less-than-stable man clearly referencing "Spartacus". Apparently these two characters of milos gloriosus thought his Roman appearance more important than living.

"Oh for...are you two even listening to me?" Nigel "Hadrian" managed to say before Wayne, for no good reason charged past him. The reason became clear, but by no means reasonable once Nigel turned around to see the large number of walkers behind him. Robert telling him that they had to help him was clearly his moral side speaking, but Nigel, even if he didn't like those two, couldn't just let him die like that. "The Gods give me strenght, please." Nigel muttered, lifting the shield off his back and jumping into the fray.

The group of walkers were bound to surround Wayne, which was certain death. The modern Roman legionary tried to fend off the incoming undead with the shield, but his work with the gladius was far more successful than with his shield. Nigel "Hadrian" hurried forth to Wayne, and with a good thrust of his sword he first stabbed the walker on his left in the throat, forcing him closer before pulling it out and then stabbing it straight in the face. One down, several others to go. "Robert! Stop praying and come help!"

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God it felt so good to sit down, even when the world ended, it was hard not to appreciate the little things. Because you never knew when they might end. Then the wind picked up, and it had ended. "Go figure." Manny said as he stood up no longer enjoying the little victory of a chair. Out of what seemed like nowhere the wind had spiked up to insane levels, Manny at first wondered if a hurricane had come though and started ripping the place apart?! Then again, this seemed not quite as bad, could be the edge of one though. That made Manny upset a little, but that was worry for later. For now, they needed to get inside. Once on his feet Manny grabbed Alexander and helped him inside with one arm, while his other arm gripped his shotgun. The house was not cleared yet so he needed to be ready for quick action.

Once inside Manny noticed a few things, the first being that this house seems like it was never properly moved into, or maybe was getting bug bombed. Either way, there is a high chance that there were no supplies here. The next thing he noticed was that Thana's face was bleeding, most likely from the debris that was starting to fly around. While setting Alexander down he tried to get Thana's attention. "Hey, Thana. Make sure you clean that, if you don't chances are it will get infected." He knew the chances were high actually, at least compared to most things that can cut people. Debris that was on ground, then in the air, when air quality was diminished by the dirt and sand being uplifted and god knows what else. "Once the house is cleared get back to me, you may need stitches on that." Manny didn't think she would, but rather safe then sorry, especially since he had some medical supplies. And losing some of those was better then losing an able body and having more to worry about. The risk was too great.

Once Alexander was on the couch and Manny had set up in the middle of the room with his shotgun, ready to deal with any missed stragglers from inside or out Manny relaxed a little. He still kept his head up, and he was ready for action, but he needed to relax more. The outside chair felt so good, it was hard to get back into the swing of things so fast with barely resting. It would be just Alexander and Manny for a little bit as the girls cleared the house. "Hey Alexander, you know what's kind of funny? I used to live maybe... a little over an hour's drive from here. And worked just a little further out. Owned my own business too. My staff would say I was on the road to retirement, a flourishing business, experienced well into my career, but I loved my job too much for that. The only way I would have retired was being physically unable to work anymore. And here I am now. Kind of funny how that works sometimes huh? Still haven't retired. Just changed professions." Manny spoke with a smile on his face at first, though the thought of what happened to all the people he used to see on a daily, or weekly basis, that was... upsetting to him.

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A brief note of satisfaction rung in Ash's mind. Jack agreed with his assessment about the points for scavenging; houses first, Fire Department to wrap up. Further, he agreed with Jack that they should all hit the Fire Department together. It was a government building that held medical supplies and trained personnel. There was a decent likelihood that the place was used to care for the infected, and so there could be additional difficulties. Ash would feel a lot better if they could scrape up something to eat for everyone and hit the place at full strength.

Even the rain was welcome. Certain things would be more difficult, but if they were careful, they could use the rain to hide their scent from the Dead, not to mention muffle sounds they might make while rifling through the houses for supplies. And the obvious could not be ignored; clean, fresh water. As fickle as the rains could be in the American South, these were all things that they needed to move on.

Then Jack spoke again, and derailed his train of thought. A Nun. How unusual.

There were occasions when very few things could surprise Ash. Today was one such occasion. If a random chunk of space debris were to descend, snarling and flaming upon the Earth like a seventy-eight foot tall Shirley MacClaine, then he make a facial expression approximating surprise. The occurrence of a woman wearing traditional apostolic habit and brandishing a sword was notable, without doubt, but it did little more than raise the eyebrow of the world weary survivor. "Sorry Jack, I was raised Methodist." He shrugged, putting the Hordebuster into gear. "Don't think she's here for me, either."

"...damnit..." he breathed. This could be a trap. He had things to do, and honestly did not want to be delayed by something like this, trap or no. Putting his own people at risk for another mouth to feed was not something he was especially keen on. But he couldn't just leave someone to die. "Alright. Let's go lend a hand." He began rolling the big truck down the road, considering his options. He could mow through the Dead no problem, but that would mean offing the Nun, too. "Riley & Amelia: when we get close I want you to hop out of the suicide door, there. Pick off the corpses between us and her. No bullets unless you have to. Jack: Need your strength here. Hold the door open back there and get ready to pull the three of them inside. I don't want to take any chances in this rain that we don't have to. I'll be here, covering with the Marlin lever-action in case any surprises hit."

As the Hordebuster came closer to the scene unfolding, Ash rolled down his window and slid open the metal grate covering it. "Quick but careful. Ready?"

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Sometimes she just didn't get Thana's tactics. The place looked abandoned, but being honest, every place looked abandoned these days. She would have rather scouted the place out first. Observe for a bit. The weather seemed to have disagreed with her assessment, though. Getting into shelter was going to be the foremost piece of importance for them if they wanted to stay safe. Thalia understood that the elements dictated a speedy, lightly uncertain entrance. Why Thana insisted upon taking point when Thalia had the best defensive tool at their disposal, and was the only one trained in higher uses of it, was fully beyond her. Did she feel responsible for everyone? Was she to ever walk lead and take the first bullet? Was the decision based on guilt? It was a heavy burden to carry something like that, if it was the case. Thalia would have to have a talk with her later.

Just before they breached the house, Thalia couldn't help but overhear a comment about that name brand canned pasta. Again. From Beatrice. Again. Whatever, they had more pressing issues right then. But it could not go unanswered. As Thalia braced to enter, she hid a big grin behind her shield and responded, "Oh, pagarás por los SpaghettiOs, puta."₁ But the moment that Thana entered the building, Thalia was all business.

She entered directly behind Thana, her shield leading the way. As soon as Thalia was given a direction, she made for it. To the right lay a short hallway. From the look of it, the hall was your standard "bed and bath" setup, hopefully without the "beyond" part to ruin their day. Before trying her luck with doors, step one was giving the hallway a good look, if only to allow herself a second to acclimate to the light conditions.

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Hank sighed with his entire body. It was an involuntary motion brought about by total the understanding that, while technically in full control of his own actions, he felt obligated to get involved in things he would rather just leave the hell alone. "Naw, there's where you're wrong there, Sport." he rasped out, unshouldering his shovel and stepping toward his friend Wayne, "Looks like we do have to fight them." He shook his head, maneuvering over the uneven ground next to the road. "Yeah, you go ahead and pray. It's worked out so well for us so far. You know, maybe those bible-thumpers were right, and this whole Dead Asshole thing is God's punishment for taking prayer out of schools, ya think there, Sport?"

Palpable sarcasm aside, he did need to get to his traveling companion. It's not like he could just leave the guy to his own devices at a time like this. He could, technically, but one of two things might happen: 1)Wayne would die, either by getting gnawed to death by dead people or the subsequent fever that hit afterwards, or 2) He kills them all without so much as a skinned knee for himself, prompting an ugly conversation later about his not helping which makes Hank wish that one or both of them got gnawed to death by dead people. Either way there was no winning this situation. Might as well push through it.

"Third damn time this week..." muttered Hank as the fight commenced. "Third damn time!" he said louder. "Pull this shit again and you're doing it yourself. Hey, nice kick though." Hank hefted his shovel, taking a swing at the nearest mobile corpse to him. The uncertain footing of the Okefenokee caused his swing to go lower than he intended, catching his dead guy's arm and, while respectable of damage, did little to actually help his situation. While regaining his footing, the least he could do was similarly inconvenience his target, and so brought his backswing to bear on the creature's knees. It was still a danger, but at least Hank wasn't down in the mud. If this kept getting inconvenient he might have to waste bullets. And nobody wanted that.

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Genevieve waved as the rain came down. She enjoyed rain, now more than ever. It cleansed her, in a way. It did not cleanse the world though. These beasts still remained. And as if on cue from the Lord Himself, there were some of them creeping up on her. It was hard to see in the downpour, but she had faith the Lord would guide her hand. She drew her sword and pointed the blade at the vermin. "The Lord wills that you perish, vile beasts! Have at you!"

Genevive rushed forward. The ground was slippery, but she held her footing in time to get to the two nearest her. In a delicate arc, she slashed the sword, cutting the beast at its neck and through its chest. She swung at the other, but lost her footing somewhat, missing. She regained her balance and backed up a step, holding the sword in front of her. "God give me strength to ensure that with which you test me."

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Riley looked out the window as she saw the nun several yards down the road, before looking back towards Jack and Ashton and shook her head slightly. "Nope I didn't order a bloody battle nun." Riley said sarcastically letting out a slight sigh she really wasn't all to keen on helping out a complete stranger. Let alone someone who was a bonafide bible thumper, but Ashton wanted to save the woman and she couldn't blame him. And better numbers would probably be a good thing as well, looking over towards Amelia for a moment, they were going to be doing the heavy lifting it seemed.

Riley made sure that her revolver was fully loaded and did a quick spin of the guns cylinder, counting the six bullets that she only had she really needed a knife or machete at least. The rain suddenly started to come down hard and fast as well, which was both a good and bad thing. They would be able to have some drinking water, but if they were going out on a supply run then things could get slippery and they wouldn't be able to hear as well.

"I'm ready." Riley said giving Amelia another friendly smile, she would of course keep a very close eye on her if it was the stranger or Amelia, Riley would obviously go and protect Amelia first and foremost. Once they were there and the Hordebuster came to a stop Riley quickly opened the door and jumped out, letting out a whistle. "Hey over here you fucking ugly bastards!" Riley yelled loudly to draw the walker's attention away from Genevieve.

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Erica ran a hand through her sweaty hair, as much as she wanted to stay at the camp for a little bit she wanted to go and find out what exactly that noise was as they continued to walk. She had a little bit of a hard time breathing from the humidity in the air, as she kept her knife out at the ready. Looking over towards Preslee for a moment when she asked what they would end up finding ahead of them she gave a slight shrug. "I'm not really sure." Erica said, she had a sinking feeling that it was going to be people which she was most likely dreading now. Erica did not trust anyone really Preslee so far seemed to be somewhat friendly given the short time that they have met.

As they got back to the main road she noticed the group of walkers that were still stuck in the swamp nearby, they seemed to be stuck for the time being. She didn't want to take the chance of taking them on, or drawing in anymore attention towards them, looking over at Preslee. "Just be careful of those walkers there." She pointed out before continuing up road 177.

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Thana moved further in the house. Eying Thalia for a moment and letting out a mock frustrated huff. The fucking can of SpeghettiOs had become an on running thing between Thalia and Beatrice. It could get annoying, it could get really annoying. Thing was though, it was their own morale game in a weird sense. Picking on about something small like that kept things moving. As annoying as it could get Thana didn't bother trying to get them to stop, in fact she would egg them on from time to time just to make sure it wasn't forgotten. Not like it ever could be. Somethings, no matter how small, were just never going to be forgotten. Like the story she was told about this one girl who came to Newnan and kissed the corpse of her friend only to end up getting bitten herself. Somethings were NEVER forgotten.

Taking a quick glance towards the hallway she had told Beatrice to check she motioned it was clear and then started to do what she was supposed to do. Stay back until the girls yelled clear or until they yelled for help. They had about thirty seconds in her mind before she would start checking on them. Until then, it was time to check to see if there were any supplies in the place. She doubted it with the condition of the road and the fact things had still been being built in this area when all hell broke loose and dead began to rise.

Eyes coming up she nodded towards Manny. Once they knew the house was empty, then he could check on her all he wanted. Last thing she wanted was to be out of the game because she let a fucking cut on her cheek get infected. Infection and elements were as likely to kill you out in this world as the Face Eaters or People. "I will," as she opened up the cabinets slowly, gun at the ready. Not that she thought a walker was folded up in the cabinet just waiting to strike but hey, it had happened before. Peeking inside she closed it quickly and swallowed hard. Turning she looked over at the two men and faked the worst smile in history. "We'll deal with that later."

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Wayne was in his element. That is if being in a shit storm of your own making was an element that is. Either way, as fucked as the situation was Wayne was still Wayne. He was of the opinion that he couldn't die. Now that hadn't worked out for two other folks that held the same type of mentality. God rest that Crazy Cowboy and that adorable Tank Girl Lola but hey even if he did die, Wayne didn't care. He had been rather suicidal from time to time. Hell who wasn't in this day and age? Waking up to slaughter instead of eggs and fucking bacon was not the way to live. Right now, to him, it was survival of the most fucked.

"Hey, take that piss-whining elsewhere Hank. I just.." Shit, he had thrown his Machete. Probably now the best idea but it had worked at the time. "Thought we could be." God-dammit walkers all around. "A team. You know?" Grotesque mother-fuckers coming at him, closing ranks bees after Pooh stole the honey pot. "Partners." Guns, he has guns. Fuck yeah! Guns! "Butch and Sundance." Wayne reached behind him and drew both his pistols from the hook of his belt. They were't anything special but guns were easier and it wasn't like he was being quiet about things. "Gin and Tonic." Fuck me, only half a clip each, make them count. (Maybe Wayne is what Deadpool would have been like during retirement?) "Mickey and Mallory."

His head jerked to the side, away from the walkers. Something had gotten his attention and he wasn't happy about it. His brows furrowing as he gave this look as if he had just been told his BFF had a crush on the same guy he did. Fuck that. Becky wasn't even hot. "No I don't mean Mickey and fucking Pluto!" Who the hell was he talking to? Shaking his head he turned his attention back to the shit storm he had walked, no charged straight into the middle of. Extending an arm in each direction he took quick aim and squeezed the triggers. Both Walkers dropped like a sack of testicles. Spinning around he lowered his weapons, his back now to the walkers. A rather large grin on the mans sweating features. "PB and mother fucking J."

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“Sounds good, yes.” Amelia confirmed with a nod at Ashton's decision on how they should proceed with the plan. Food and meds first and then the Fire Department last. She didn't have anything to add to such a plan and she did approve of it. That said she did wonder how they will devide the teams. She really didn't want Riley to go out there...

“But aren't all public buildings such as those usually really infested?” Amelia asked when Riley suggested they check out the school. Schools tended to have a lot of people and infestations usually lingered there for a long long while.” Though I do suppose we can at least scout it out... carefully.” She smiled.

“Wait what?” Amelia asked when Jack mentioned if they had asked for a nun. She quickly turned to look outside and saw her too.” What on earth?” She mumbled in disbelieve. A nun out here!? How did she survive? Is this a trap? It was raining now... Actually rain was good. Rain meant less walkers should notice them which was good, but it could also be taken as a big hindering factor. They were going to get drenched the moment they walked outside. She sighed and her eyes focused on the Nun who had some walkers around her. She looked at the others in the buster.” So... what do we do with this? Do we help her...?”

“Alright.” She quickly took position by Riley as they started moving. Riley was drawing the walker's attention which Amelia wasn't really happy about, but what to do. She readied her bat as she jumped outside and prepared to play whack-a-zombie.

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As Jack continued to look out in astonishment at the nun, his mind then took in the conditions they were facing. It was raining all of the sudden and he doubted it'd give them a break from the humidity, as much as he'd want it to. From his years living in the South - only when infested by the Dead - the humidity never really seemed to let up. Sometimes, he wondered if it was because this was Hell - a hot humid land infested with loved ones' animated corpses, ready to devour you without another glance. And if it wasn't Hell, well, Satan ought to be taking notes. There was plenty of material here for him to use.

Maybe she's seen Solovey... Jack wondered to himself quietly. He knew the nun could easily be a trap - seriously, a nun?! Of all people, he didn't anticipate those to be the survivors. But at the same time...Nuns were universally trusted. What if Tatiana was traveling with one - did nuns know how to deliver babies? He hoped to god that Froggy was still with her, but he couldn't ignore this potential lead. And even if she hadn't seen Tati, maybe she'd seen a note Tati had left behind in this area. Anything to point him in the right direction or to keep the spark of hope alive within him.

"Gotcha," Jack said, climbing over towards the door. The minute Riley and Amelia jumped out, he got into position, hoping that his muscles would win the fight against the wind. No, they had to, he reminded himself. They had to for Tatiana and Jamie. They were counting on him - and every little fight he got into, every situation, he had to give it 110%. Anything less would not be enough.

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Beatrice was silent as Thana insisted on taking point again - it had been something of a trend and she figured it was Thana's right to decide to do that if she wished. Until she was no longer competent in that role, it was fine with Beatrice. Thana could risk her life, as long as it didn't endanger the rest of them. She considered her a friend and she respected her - the entire reason for that rationality. It wasn't her job to remind Thana of her limits. Not yet, anyways. As she entered the house, bow at the ready, she moved up towards the left as Thana had instructed her. It reminded her of the houses the nice parents would have in the foster system - the ones that would never actually adopt you and send you back the next day like a defective toy.

₁"Tal vez cuando termine con ellos, te deje lamer la lata," Beatrice quipped to Thalia with a smirk. She had been fluent in Spanish for ages and they were right. Learning a language really was a lifelong gift - it was perfect to antagonize the angrily cute warrior chick in the apocalypse with. Clearly its intended use as well. Her smirk vanished a moment later. She wasn't one for prolonged smiling. Besides, the blasted wind had kicked up and Thana had gotten hurt. It would have been comical, in retrospect - injured by the wind, rather than a human being or a walker.

She continued to walk forward, listening idly to the conversations around her as she headed behind the island countertop and down the hallway, stopping in front of what seemed to be a pantry and beginning her check there, ready to shoot anything that came her way.

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"What?" Alexander said up to Manny, who was now standing in the middle of the room after helping him inside. His old bum -don't anyone else dare say it though. Alexander could still kick your sorry, young ass if he really wanted to) - was happy to have the closest thing to a comfy couch in a sweet-ass long time. He had started going through his various pockets, just checking that most of HIS stuff was still with him. From out of his pockets he pulled up a hammer and an worn-out map of Florida, which he put to his left side of the dusty couch. The compass he pulled out, looked at for a moment and put on the Florida-map. But he had been eyeing the bottle of Oxycontin the longest; he had already used a good portion of it so far to cope with the pain, but now? If he took all of 'em, maybe he would just fall asleep forever? He'd seen it before with soldiers not coping with the pressure. Maybe…

But Alexander looked up at Manny and put the bottle back in his pocket when he was spoken to, not having payed attention for a little while. Apparently Manny had once lived not too far from where they were now. "No kidding?" he said with a surprised smile. "If I didn't know better, maybe a detour to your place could be possible? Any idea of what you had there?" Alexander continued, but the smile faded away slowly as he realized that was years ago. Besides they didn't have a car. "Well you're one hell of a dentist, that's for sure, Manny. And that's funny, 'cause I used to hate them." That much was true. Alexander looked down at the folded map on his left, wondering how far it was to where his boat had been anchored up so many years. Who knew if it was still there, or if there were still any survivors out on that island he left so many years ago? Maybe Manny knew about it? He was about to ask, but the thoughts reminded him too much about…about Her, so he shut them down and rubbed his hand over his mouth, as if to silence himself.

"You figure how long we'll have to stay in here? Or how long we can?" Alexander instead asked Manny, leaning back on the couch and breathing out. Dusty still, the ol' timer tried not to breath in that too much, though he started coughing a little. At least it was comfortable. Alexander took up the worn-out map, the compass placed on it as he rested both on his lap, and started looking it over. Always good to know where they were now and would be going.

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Those two guys were in an incredibly intrecate way, like Greek metaphysics, be able to both take the piss out of both Robert and Nigel "Hadrian", and at the same time manage to fight against the undead as capable fighters. Nigel wasn't sure what to think, but he wasn't liking how Hank and Wayne were talking so much chit-chat while in combat. Yes sure Nigel could be seen as "dressing up as Spartacus from the movie", but he was at least taking the whole "Fighting for his life"-part a little more serious. At least in his opinion.

Nigel "Hadrian" had taken out one of the walkers, and maybe given Wayne that little breather for him to start shooting at them. That could have been a good solution to their problems, hadn't it been for "Hadrian" disliking the prospect of using guns when there were a horde nearby; They could it hear! But after having talked to no-one like the mad-man he was, Wayne had managed to gun down two walkers to his sides like he was in a gangster-movie - and not the ones "Hadrian" enjoyed either. PB and J? He didn't get the reference. But he did get to continue his fighting though.

A walker was approaching Nigel quickly, arms stretched out in search for prey to feast its soggy and rotten face on. Nigel was the closest one, but he wasn't ready to let the Undead feast on him like a Dionysosian festival. As it got close to him, "Hadrian" push forth his shield for it to inevitably grab onto and started pushing the walker from side to side. Old tactic, but it worked. "This would have been much easier if…" "Hadrian" started declaring loudly to the others, mostly Wayne and Hank who'd grinded his gears most that morning. The walker latched onto his shield started losing its balance quickly, giving him the oppertunity to push it to the ground. Excellent, just as planned. "Hadrian" quickly stepped over the proned walker and stabbed the sword through its sorry, rotten head, ending its undead life and bringing it back to where it belonged. "…if you two talked less down on strangers…"

Nigel turned around to see Hank with a walker with him, damaged at the knee and arm but still a threat. Strangers or not, this was the time to act. With a swift and presice motion, "Hadrian" lifted his sword-arm up behind his head and took careful, yet quick aim towards the shovel-wielding grump. The steel gladius was released from the Roman's arm, spinning through the air as it moved with calcuated beauty of Roman discipline towards its target. And with an audible stab and heavy thud, the sword planted itself into the motionless head of Hank's walker, now lying dead on the ground. Nigel hurried to where his sword was implanted in the head and ground, pulled it out and looked straight at Hank. "…and listened to us. Come on, your friend needs more help."

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The constant disrespect displayed by the two heathens was slowly pushing Robert’s buttons. The frustration clearly overcast his ability to hide feelings under tougher skin. For a man so devoted to God and his teachings, the art of peace was clearly being tested. It hurt even more to hear his own comrade yell at him in less than a friendly tone.

Without a word, Robert moved around the battleground - allowing the others to dive hot-headeadly into the fight. Robert’s tactics were different, allowing the walkers to do the attacking and countering with his own strikes when the chance presented itself. He whistled to a walker to call its attention, letting the dead man limp towards him. Upon finding the range, Robert took a quick step to his right and came crashing into the dead's skull with his dowel. The walker went limp and fell into the dirt face first and motionless. As another approached he mimicked his first action, allowing the walker to approach then attacking at the right moment - precision stricking.

Robert took no satisfaction in killing the unfortunate. These people had suffered enough and we’re mocked for their inability to truly be free - condemned to a hollowed rotten body that no longer resembled who they once were. Deep down, Robert still believed things would go back to how they once were, or even better than before. He had faith that God would not give up on them, that’s why they were still breathing. It was clear not many of those around him

Anyway, what seemed to be a standard battle between men and dead soon took a drastic undertone when Wayne opened fire. The gunshots spiked Robert’s nerves, forcing his shoulders to his earlobes. He let out a sigh of frustration. What the heck was this guy thinking?

“I think we need to go....now,” Robert stated loudly to everyone. His eyes darted around, looking for walkers to join the fray. The gunshots would prove more dangerous than helpful soon and Robert did not want to be present when the time came.

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After her question, Preslee continued to trail Erica. The uncertanty of what awaited them down the road did not fall easy on Preslee’s shoulders. Preslee was not one to believe in signs, but the horde of walkers stuck in the swamps could not have been a good one if any. Watching those walkers gnaw and reach for their flesh made the blonde very uneasy and unsure if she wanted to continue.

Then another sign. A walker in eyesight just down the road. “Look out,” Preslee said alertedly, making sure Erica had seen it too. However, as the two continued forward Preslee started to feel dizzy. Her feet stumbled a bit underneath her and she pivoted right towards the trees.

Fortunately she was able to regain her balance before falling. She had had very little to eat and drink so fatigue and vertigo was surely a factor. She started feeling like shit, hopefully it was nothing serious. “I should have ate the bugs,” he said under her breath.

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Hello there my darlings, it has been such a long time. Too long in my mind. I do have to give my minion in training a bit of applause. Sigil is remarkable at dealing out deaths for me. I was on vacation and just refused to be bothered. A trip back in time enjoying the Inquisition. So wonderful but I have returned and it seems I am just in time for a death must be dealt this evening and I am just itching to take a crack at it. I wouldn't want to get rusty now would I? And I do have to set a good example to my biggest fan as I know she is watching. Hello Morose darling, how I have missed you.



To Business! Come with me and we shall go watch. How I do love a good death. Not all deaths are good but this one I believe shall be. Death as sacrifice is always welcome. So many times death comes out of no where and it seems for no reason. Just a loss with no rhyme or reason. Yet when death comes calling and one is spared, now that is sweet on the tongue and soothes the heart. What you didn't think I was just pure cruelty did you? I know, I can be but not always. Not this time. This death is special. It is personal sacrifice for the greater good and I am honored to be dealing it. It is why I chose to deal it myself instead of allowing another.

Over in the swamps of Georgia, two women. You see them don't you. One lovely blonde and another, a cute brunette. Two women, alone seemingly in the wilderness. The sweltering repressive heat of a Georgia spring setting in. And a walker on the road. Usually one is not an issue but watch. They both are moving up the road and towards the walker. It is only one and they have been doing this for five years. Maybe not together but they have been surviving. Yet, sometimes even the best can be caught with their guard down. It isn't as if they are unaware of the danger. They know it well but it has been a long day already and traveling through the swamps is never fun. It wasn't enjoyable even before the outbreak. The humidity alone is hell on the hair.

Oh my! Erica doesn't see the walker is moving faster now. Fueled by that hunger, that only thing beyond the mechanical remains of brain function. Like a rabid animal it speeds up. Preslee could take the shot but at what cost? Is it worth hitting her traveling mate right now? No, just one walker. Make a move. Oh god, move quick! The walker is nearly to Erica. It is. It grabs Erica and starts to pull her in for the bite. It is hungry, a hunger that never goes away, it never ceases, all it wants is to eat the fresh flesh off her bones and dine on the warmth it can never feel.

Preslee strikes. Tackling it, pulling it away from Erica before it has a chance. But it is wet and slimy. It must have been in the swamp for days or perhaps even months before now. It is slippery and hard to hold. Even as one tries to grab it. See her hands go either right through it or slip off it of. Oh no... Her jugular... So much blood. This is never pretty. The bright crimson against the swampy muck olive drab. It shines like silver against black velvet. Preslee isn't going out without a fight though it seems. She manages, with those gasping breaths to finally plunge her knife into it's skull. The Walker is no longer an issue but poor thing. Her life for Ericas. Sadness comes but there is at least peace when death comes knocking. I doubt Erica will ever forget, and I do hope she remembers to put Erica to final rest so she too does not rise again. RIP dear Preslee. You will forever be a hero to one.

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The rain continued to pound down on the land around them, making movement perilous and reducing visibility to a sliver of what it once was. It seemed almost folly to launch an ambush in this kind of weather, but stranger things had happened on Ash's watch, not the least of which was a tornado that tore through a horde and sucked up enough of the dead bastards to make life very interesting for the people it ran into next. Which, of course, were his people.

The ferocity of the weather also served to drown out damn near every piece of hearing there was to be heard, from Ash's perspective. In truth, the only real service he was doing for anyone at that point was staying behind the wheel for a quick getaway. He was the most qualified guy to do it, but it still seemed like he was directing traffic from the most secure spot they had. When they hit the ground foraging, he resolved to throw himself into his tasks to compensate for his lack of effectiveness here. The women on the ground could handle themselves, Jack could get them back in okay, and he would ferry them away in safety.

Then he had questions for the drenched Nun. And speaking of drenched, the open window was getting the inside of his beloved truck rather soggy just then. The inconvenience alone was worth the silent supplication to whatever deity still looked down upon them to have the task over and done with. He could only hope that the rain's roar upon the earth was enough to mask their comings and going from the Dead at large.

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Maybe it was pride. Pride had caused Thalia to make stupid decisions in the past. It sure as hell almost got her killed following the Outbreak. She got damned lucky to get picked up by the people she did, so close to death, who set her straight and turned her around. As fate would have it, she now carried the shield of one of them who helped her and trained her, all by happenstance. Sadly, that shield did not prove to be of much assistance.

Thalia sized up the corpse shambling at her. It was a young man. Large man too, or was before circumstances led to its demise, which from the relative solidity of his flesh was fairly recently. Also, by telltale signs around its eyes, nose and mouth, it had passed on by way of disease or infection. Thalia had a gun she could have used, though she did not want the dead, vaporized blood of a disease carrying cadaver wafting around the building in which they were taking shelter.

The safe thing to do would have been to use her shield to keep it back and call for Beatrice to bring her bow to bear on it. It was her first impulse. It was the right thing to do. Disease was a serious thing to mess around with, now more than ever before. A sickness took out Fairburn, when all they would have needed before was a clinic or a decent nursing staff before. Illness could give away your position when you needed to be quiet, and the price for noise was death. The bow was the best weapon for it. Minimal splatter, no atomized blood, and from a distance. They were a team now, not a collection of individuals. But something stopped her. Some impulse. Maybe pride, as mentioned. Some underlying piece of the blatantly independent woman she used to be peeking out from behind the wiser lady she had become in the last couple of years. As if a higher force had suggested that she take care of this simple task on her own and she just agreed out of habit. Dama Muerte's price for the success she had at Eden a year ago, though she always figured that Death was the ultimate neutral arbiter, not a spiteful bitch.

"Zed Man Walking!" Thalia called out, her eyes staying on her target. She raised her shield and advanced on the dead man, certain that this would be a brief exercise in standard, Zed killing protocol. Nothing she hadn't done dozens, if not hundreds of times before. Breaking into a jog with the last two steps, she slammed into it with her shield, causing the body to hit the wall behind it even as she brought her knife up to embed in its temple. Than the unthinkable happened. The knife barely missed its mark, striking the side of the forehead instead. The recent death of the man meant that its skull had not softened as much as other, longer perished corpses. Her knife slid along the skull, opening a furrow underneath its hairline and putting her arm directly in the path of danger.

The bite landed on her forearm, just above the wrist. It wasn't much to look at, but a scratch was all it took. Fear jolted for an instant through Thalia in a way more visceral and mortal than it ever had before, threatening to turn to shock. This was it. She stumbled back, crying out, "Fucking bit! I'm fucking bit!" Anger mixed into Thalia's fear, snapping her back from the brink of total panic. She wasn't dead yet. Yet. But she needed help fast; even took a millisecond's worth of prayer that the Doc wouldn't take it off too close below the elbow. Damnit.

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This was one of the wordier examples of mortal combat that Hank had the privilege of getting dragged into. The Roman was full of disdain for his elders, which was the cause of mild annoyance by Hank. If he was being honest with himself (and to his credit, he usually was; not being the type to suffer bullshit even from him), he hadn't exactly put his best beer forward. Hence the expression. Most people might put their best foot forward, but that irked the hell out of Hank. Made no damn sense. Who wanted a big plate of callous, ingrown toenail (he should probably do something about that), and footmeat? If you wanted to leave a good impression with someone, you offer them a beer. A decent one. Your best beer, and forward. In the event that they didn't like beer, you booted their worthless ass out of your home, because that kind of negativity wasn't appreciated.

...plus, more beer for you.

But back to business: Downing that one Asshole was fun and all, but it was still alive and kicking. Or just kicking. Yeah, he really had to rework some of his phrasing now that "above ground" didn't mean "alive" anymore. Anyway, the Roman Reenactor's sword - flew through the air with the greatest of ease, killing the Asshole he cut off at the knees - (I swear this stuff writes itself). Again, annoying. As was the advice about talking down to strangers. He would get to that later.

"It's been Five. Goddamned. Years, Wayne. We're not holding hands and, oh, braiding each other's pube curlies, but I'm pretty sure we're partners." It was true; they knew each other before the Outbreak, being in similar fields of business. Him a Big City Detective, Hank a duly elected County Sheriff. The fact that their minds had both slipped a gear somewhere along the line was purely coincidence. Batshit crazy, but he could trust Wayne. That compensated for a boatload of crazy.

"Everyone's a stranger, Maximus." he said, striding purposefully toward the dead guy behind his partner. "Who else am I going to talk down to, huh?" He gave a sharp whistle and growled, "C'mon, Sunnymuffins. Let's do this." prompting the walking corpse to begin to turn in his direction. As soon as he liked the angle, he dug the point of his shovel upward, into the thing's head from the jawline and moving north, effectively taking off its face and three inches of matter behind it. The front half of its head flipped end over end, splatting upon a nearby rock like some sort of putrefied jack-o-lantern. Hank then brought the flat of his mighty yard tool to bear, smooshing what was left back into its torso as it went down like a sack of disco.

Hank started walking back to the downed truck. As he walked, he addressed his new acquaintances starting with the man who was rapt with prayer. "I don't see the big, awful hurry, them being dead and all. But hey, good job there, Sport." and turning to the Roman, "And Sportacus." He wiped some of the gore off of his shovel on a bank of spongy moss as he strode along, continuing, "Yeah, I'm getting my guns and shit. You boys do ...whatever you do." The dismissive wave seemed to mirror the nonchalant lack of care as he made his way to the road sculpture that used to be a motor vehicle.

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While Manny and Alexander were chatting Alexander had asked if Manny remembered what he had left in his home. Truth be told, he left a lot. Most of his personal documents, targets for his old shotgun, plenty of food, and his own personal supply of medical surplus. Though that was years ago, chances are all that was looted. His office was probably worse off, that would actually be a target for looters, the only thing that might still be there is his car. But the chances were slim it still worked, and he didn't have the keys anymore anyways. Though something did click in his head. "I don't think anything realistically would be left at my office or my home. Nothing of use to us at least. But I was apart of a gun club, so I had somewhere to practice with a shotgun much like the one I have now." He tried to plan it out in his head. "I don't think it would be worth going out of our way for, but if we pass close by I know we could use the guns. The range will lack guns itself for the most part, as it would have been a target for looters too, but the documents that kept addresses and registration forms for the regular members like myself? Those would be untouched most likely. I figure, get a list of people and addresses of people who went shooting a lot, but rarely purchased ammunition, we could probably find at least one person who used to make their own. People rarely loot those supplies." He knew the chances of that working were slim, it would be a lot of trial and error, but speaking in the positive always tended to make things work smoother.

Into their conversation Alexander had brought up his overall dislike for dentists. But how he did like Manny despite that. "Glad to hear that old man, though I have no idea how long we'll be here. If we're lucky we can find an RV or a school bus or something. Anything with a little space and a place to sit comfortably. Somewhere we could also stock up supplies in as we travel in case we actually ever find something." Manny liked that idea, there had been times in the past where his groups would find supplies, and only have the means to bring back part of it. But due to how far out the supplies were they were unable to make another trip out to get them in ways worth the gas. A larger vehicle despite using more fuel would still be worth the trip.

Soon after the conversation had made headway in their conversation Manny had heard the struggle, then the scream. The words he hated to hear. Because it meant bad news no matter the context. Someone had been bit. Best case scenario, they were in shock and scared. But most likely it was he'd have to remove another limb. Worst case scenario... Manny was the only one with a gun that had more then one shot left. He hated that idea, but was there another practical way if it was that bad?

Manny ran over to the scream, it was Thalia with a dead walker at her feet. He could see the wound from where he was at. "Oh my god..." Manny wasn't religious, for a lot of reasons. But if there was one, Manny hoped they listened to his silent prayer, because arm wounds were difficult to tend to someone that was awake. "Blade! Someone get a fucking blade! Biggest one you can get your hands on! Thalia, I am going to need you to breath slowly, and stay calm. Getting too excited will increase your heart rate and drastically increase the odds of you getting infected." Manny setting his shotgun aside started pulling out his medical supplies.

Normally he'd have to give up his belt, but in this case he actually had a tourniquet available to him. Plus, Manny figured no matter how tight he made the belt, it wouldn't stop enough bleeding to actually keep her from bleeding out. Thinking about what he was doing, he had to make sure things were done right, since so much was going to have to be done wrong to save her in time. He took his belt off and tightened it just a little bit past the tourniquet. The belt might not stop bleeding, but it may limit blood flow if his first tie off fails. God he hoped so. "Someone get me something to elevate her legs with dammit!" She was going to lose a ton of blood. She would recover if done right, but elevating her legs may keep her blood pressure up enough to keep her alive.

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She was now positively soaked, but she did not care, for God would keep her safe from sickness and danger. One vile creature remained close to her as she felt the drops of rain grow faster. She pulled her sword up and pointed it at the creature. "Vile thing! How dare you corrupt God's clean Earth. As He is with me, I shall end your suffering!" WIth that, Genevieve took a step forward, slashing the sword across the thing's chest and neck, severing it as it crumpled into a heap.

She swung the sword away, getting some of the blood off of it before she turned to see those that drove the large truck. They got out and here aiding her. Truly, God's blessings knew no bounds, but they would need help as well. So Genevieve rushed to aid them. As she did so, she said a silent prayer to herself. "Father, I pray for the souls I have taken and wish to see them to your great glory. I pray for my soul that has been tainted in taking a life. Father, forgive me." It was a prayer she often said once fighting these creatures.