Dice gods have decided - a little time jump is coming. 1 round left for today after this one.

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Wayne dusted himself off and rolled his neck a bit. Stepped out from under the whole that was now in the ceiling since he had "removed" the stairs from being in the way. "Yeah of course, fucking christ, it's what I'm here for," Wayne said with a slight grin on his face. Turning he started looking around the place. There was only a bit of light right now but hey it was enough. At least for now. The main room wasn't that big so it wasn't that hard to illuminate. Too bad they didn't have some sort of electricity and the clapper. Clap on, clap off, the clapper. Granted, that would also be better than having the Clap. So hey, they were doing fucking great.

Stepping around he wandered into the door way of the fishing room and looked around. He nearly stepped on a pile of something on the ground. Leaning down he tilted his head to the side and look a closer look. Poking it a bit with his finger and then picking up some of it. "Spam?" he said to himself. Who the fuck would dump out perfectly good spam and not eat it? Okay, he could see why before shit hit the fan in the most shit running fashion but today? You ate that shit, even if it tasted like ass.

Standing up he shook his had a bit to get the stuff off of it, wiping his hand on his pants leg before turning and looking back around. "I can tie a hell of a fucking noose if you want one," he said towards Nigel. It was something Wayne was good at these days. He was constantly fashioning them in his spare time. Now, when it came to picking locks he didn't have a clue. It was probably something he should have learned at one time or another but he hadn't.

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Tatiana looked around, thinking to herself for a minute before shaking her head. "No, no dovnstairs," she said. There wasn't as far as she knew and she was pretty sure of herself. She had been in that house for a bit and gotten a good mental picture of what it did and didn't have. As far as boards went she shook her head again. Wood wasn't just laying around like that. Not in this area.

"Inner bathroom if need," she said pointing across from the kitchen before making her way through the room and north a bit. Coming to a stop she looked back at Jack and motioned a bit. "Over there," she added and pointed to a small playpen in the great room.

This was not exactly how she wanted to spend her first night back with Jack, or the rest of her friends from Newnan, but it was better than nothing and a far better cry than not being with them at all. The men that had taken her and Jamie were dead, they were together, and no one was hurt. Well she couldn't exactly say that. Ash did have an injury that was for sure and both she and Jack had had a hell of a rumble with the fuckers before they got to this point. She was going to feel those punches in the morning.

"Ash, beds upstairs, couch in there," she said as she pointed this way and that. Walking slowly over to a love seat by the play pen she sat down and rubbed her face. It had been a long day. It looked to be a long night but at least whatever winds or storm or tornado seemed to by either dying down or passing them by. This was good, as was the temperature dropping. She was wet and tired and the adrenaline was starting to wear off. Pain was starting to set in. Amelia and Riley were okay, they could help Ash she figured.

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Riley gave Ashton a slight smile and nod. "Anytime Captain Tightass." Riley said jokingly trying to lighten the mood as she gently patted him on his good shoulder. She knew that he wasn't in good shape right now, they needed to get the bullet removed and clean the wound out as well. Riley picked up all of the things that Ashton had been carrying and started to make her way back inside of the house itself, looking over at Amelia. "Going to need to help Ash here and remove the bullet again." Riley said towards her as she looked at Ashton, figuring that he knew a bit better as well. "Since you have some EMT training could you walk me or Amelia through it?" Riley asked Ashton.

Riley looked out the window she had shot out, it seemed that the wind was dying down now which was a good thing, they may not have to deal with the tornado now as Riley rubbed the back of her neck a bit as she headed back inside gesturing to where ever Ashton would want to sit down before yelling out to Tati. "Happen to have any booze in here?" Riley called out towards her, since she had been in this place the longest and knew where the supplies were if they had any kind of alcohol on hand.

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Erica looked over towards Nigel when he said he had found some kind of lockbox and shook her head a bit. "I don't have anything to pick a lock with, maybe try bashing it open and do it that way?" Erica suggested, she could suggest using a handgun on it but it would make noise and probably draw to much unwanted attention to any walkers that maybe lurking around. She shook her head a bit at Wayne and chuckled a bit at Hanks comment before making her way over towards him. She eyed the flashlight that he had on him, and then over at Hank as well. She wasn't sure why he was actually offering his flashlight to her, they did just meet not to long ago, before accepting it and turned on the flash light.

"Don't worry I wont use all of the battery." Erica said smiling a tad bit, as she made sure that it was in working order she hadn't used a flash light in a very long time. Erica sighed a bit as she got up on Hanks hand, as she waited for him to lift her up a bit, she was really hoping that there was something worth it. "So where is everyone from?" Erica finally asked, if she was going to be spending the night with a bunch of sweaty men who have been travling in the hot sun all day she might as well try and get to know them somewhat.

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What did Alexander usually dream about? Unlike the pretty sight of Judith standing with her husband and making sure he was safe from himself, his dreams were usually far worse. He cherished the nights he didn't dream at all, and the nights he did dream he spent the better parts of the morning ensuring himself they were just that; dreams. Not because they weren't true, because they were, but because it happened so long ago. Images burned into his eyes as clear as day, forever tormenting him for what he did and didn't do. So tonight was different, but why? Was it the relative safety they had inside that house, or just an exhausted old Mugsy finally passing out? If Alexander had been aware of this, he would have told you to shut up and let him enjoy his sleep.

But the old veteran wasn't aware of his dreaming slumber until he felt something rousing him. Or someone. "..Huh?..." Alexander grumbled out of his sleep, opening his eyes ever so slightly to see who it was. It was Beatrice, which pushed the gears in his head back into gear. "What's the..oh right, my turn. Give me a moment..." Alexander said less groggly to Bea, pushing himself off the floor and leaning up against the wall in order to wake up more. He looked at the two other sleeping figures, Thalia and Manny, wondering what they were dreaming about and if Thalia was feeling the pain in her sleep. "Anything to report, Bea?"

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Nigel "Hadrian" had been wandering around the shop-area since picking up the tin box, walking back and forth it would seem while examining his booties of war - something even the Neo-Roman hadn't been expected of him to think, much less say out loud. But Nigel was half-listening to the conversations going on around him in the building. He had to give that to Hank, he had a flashlight in a time and age where batteries were getting rarer than Roman victories against the Parthians, and was conservative about using it. Nigel could approve of that.

His focus was more aimed at Wayne however as he spoke directly to him, and the tin box itself of course. Wandering back to the loose floorboards he had pulled it out from, Nigel shot a look back at Wayne as he offered to tie him a noose. "...Not right now, but I'll be sure to ask you first if the need arises, Wayne." Nigel "Hadrian" answered Wayne's offer, putting on the face of a teacher who had just gotten an answer so stupid that he didn't dare point directly, instead nodding in agreement that it was a good answer, but not the right one. It happens more than you think. But turning back to the box, Nigel picked up his Gladius and focused on the lock of the box. Erika had a point. Why not just break it open? How much use would they have for a tin box really?

Nigel started hitting the lock of the box with the pummel of his sword, giving it a good wack as he heard Erika ask one of the usual 'Let's get to know each-other' questions. "West-Coast, Washington." Nigel answered before either of the loud-mouths had the oppertunity to throw in another witty comment about ancient Rome and Greece. Who knew what they would have answered for him? But Nigel refrained from going into more specifics than the state. It was a habit, be careful what one told others. Hence his use of the name "Hadrian". As he finished his answer, Nigel heard the sound of the lock cracking open and off the box, leaving him to find out what was in it.

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As was a passable trainer, of sorts. He was a generally adept man when passing information along, ordinarily in the form of direct orders or, a lifetime ago, through memo or Email correspondence. When Newnan was still above ground, the stoic Captain even made it a point to pen textbooks. Three of them. One detailed the ins and outs of the structural and civil engineering that went into the construction of their home; walls, improvised power grid, cisterns and all the rest of what made Newnan sustainable, even convenient. Another book was all bout his distillery work; fuel alcohol (as it was often said that Newnan ran on booze), drinking spirits, fermented/brewed goods, water distillation systems, even vinegars for cleaning and food preservation needs. The last was his own personal "How To" guide on the construction of his former pride and joy, his home away from home, the great, lifesaving roadbeast known as The Hordebuster. They were comprehensive and easy to understand. Regrettably, all three of them were lost when Newnan collapsed into itself. Maybe one day, decades or centuries from now, someone would dig down, into where the courthouse building used to be. Maybe they would open the safe in the main office, and maybe future generations would be able to learn from the writing therein, be it to rebuild or merely for a lesson in history.

Unfortunately, now was decidedly not an occasion where Ash's education and intellect were working together to provide a decent learning experience for those who could benefit from it. In fact, the gruff and exhausted Captain Holloway sounded a little too much like Tommy Lee Jones attempting to track down a fugitive, to the detriment of understandable direction. "Alright, what I need from either or both of you is a straight and clear, sanitized bullet removal on a subject that it already close to passing out. Step one (and pay attention) is to secure the patient (that's me) onto an even, nonporous surface - chair or kitchen table will suffice - followed by cleansing the area around the wound and the tools you intend to use. Directly following you will need to establish the location of the bullet and proximity to any major blood vessels (which shouldn't be an issue, we're pretty meaty in there) and careful extraction without gripping muscle or adipose tissue nearby. Gonna have to go by feel for that one and don't spare retraction if it's called for but not if it isn't. Now, at that time there's going to be some blood, not too much or you know something bad just happened and I'm probably a dead guy. Have something to catch the bullet after it comes out, and following that is simple wound dressing. Sound simple? Is simple. The part that isn't is communicating and finding the bullet over the sound of me screaming. We good? Good. I'll probably lapse into shock out halfway through. Best of luck to you."

It was a ramble at worst, rant at best. The part that was likely the most infuriating was that he was technically correct, but the possibility that he didn't effectively communicate loomed in the foreground, obvious to many but excluding himself. This was not his most distinguished teaching moment. Fatigue, pain, and blood loss; this was his excuse.

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Thalia sat alone in the middle of an oppressive darkness, aware of nothing but a gnawing hunger that permeated her soul and defined what she was to become. She rocked back and forth, shivering to almost the point of convulsing uncontrollably. This was not natural. Not in the least. The most minor of positive change that she could perceive was that she appeared to be whole once more, the familiar feel of two working arms ending with fully articulated fingers, as far as she could tell. The sickening discomfort of everything else gave way for a single, hot second of gratitude about this. Maybe it was the price she had to pay to be physically complete again.

Logically, Thalia knew that this could not be. She had lost a good part of her arm to save her life. Why it would be there now was a ludicrous idea. t was missing so the rest of her could survive, and that was what she did: Survive. But dear, sweet, merciful Muerte, was she hungry. As her shaking continued, Thalia could tell that she had lost most of the feeling in her newly found limb, and worse yet, it was creeping up the rest of her arm. A fast glance turned into rooted horror as she bore witness to her arm, dead and streaked with cold, black veins, began asserting itself on the rest of her body. The ...deadness... of it throbbed farther into her with every beat of her heart, and in that moment she knew what form her hunger took - Thalia required the flesh of the living.

No longer in the pitch black of her isolation, the woman once called "Angel" by those who cared for her stalked in the richer darkness of night and shadow. She was a creature of instinct, yet still possessing cunning intelligence and the desire to devour the living. In her childhood home, the first one she ever knew, even before she knew of her father's people, she extended her now clawed hand from underneath her mother's bed, snatching apart the woman's leg at the ankle. Her screams felt exhilarating, a tangle of confusion, betrayal and pain as blonde hair and red blood tangled and flew while flesh was rent into pieces. The flesh of this woman's back was splayed open in crude, conscious vivisection, a state which was exploited by a pale skinned, black-webbed Thalia, popping apart ribs to get at the succulent meats within.

Trapped within her own mind, she screamed, beating against the impenetrable glass of her prison while she tried to come to grips with the act that she not only wanted this, she enjoyed it. Every piece of organ scrap was a delight, every slurp of blood from her dead fingers ecstasy. She needed more. Not even the carnal chewing of her mother's heart sated her. More and more and more.

Her father fell next, though he was able to put five bullets into her before she got close enough to tear his throat out and watch him as his lungs filled with his life's blood. But not for too long. No. She had to begin consuming the old man before the light fully left his eyes. He did always have kind but stern eyes, that one. She chewed them from their sockets first, savoring the tender squashing feel of them between her molars before cackling in a dry, inhuman voice. Wordless, shrill, decaying screams of enveloping laughter. She was not death. Death had the potential to be kind, warm, even loving. Death was the final arbiter of one's life. She was rot and malevolence. Thalia was infection and indiscriminate hurt. She was a parasite who enjoyed feeling the loss of others. Thalia was a monster.

She gave her cousin a chance to scream, and that was only because it gave her pleasures untold to do so. To allow a woman who she idolized in life, who always seemed so much stronger than herself, the opportunity to bless the moment of her demise with the sounds of her unneeded suffering. Thalia pulled skin from her flesh and consumed it in front of her, and when she could not scream any longer, the thing that used to love her pulled out handfuls of intestines and shoved them down her throat. It was bliss. It was a new kind of love, this special, extra attention she received. Thalia even lay next to her, holding her as a sister might comfort, but hissing and sputtering mirthful noises into her ear as she choked and bled away. Wetness, gore, corruption, heaven.

Somewhere in the middle of all this, as she picked away those she cared for in life, Thalia's sorrow and horror began to externalize. She wasn't sure at what point, but finally she was outside of the Beast. There was pain. Actual pain, and a cold heaviness where her arm used to be. The taste of blood was still on her tongue, but at least she no longer craved it. The thing that did was still there, though, looking at her with awful, mesmerizing curiosity. Thalia looked upon herself with pity and anger. It seemed to grow wiry, twitching tendrils of inky blackness from everywhere underneath its skin, smiling at her with jagged teeth and staring with black, hollow eyes. Her people had always served death in one form or another, be it conceptually or directly, and this creature was not part of that. Understanding did dawn that whatever this actually was, it was a part of her. As vital and honest as anything else about her, this thing was the worst of her. Every representation or incarnation of her soul would have this thing inside of it. This made her angry. Both of her.

The Beast leapt at her, swiping furrows of pain and blood across her face. She could no longer register one of her eyes but could feel a thick, warm liquid like egg whites pouring down her cheek. Another swipe ripped her from breast to navel, not quite enough to empty her guts onto the ground but more than plenty to drop her to her knees. She could hear the laughter, if it indeed was that, and feel cold, clammy hands wrap around her throat. When her remaining eye began to lose sight, a single word floated into her dying mind.

"No."

The Beast seemed perplexed by this.

"NO." Her remaining hand reached up and grasped a wrist of her attacker. Surprise followed when her other hand, still cold, still heavy, grabbed the other one. Defiance surged through Thalia like a lifegiving shot of adrenaline. She was able to relieve just enough pressure from her throat to audibly croak out the word, to bring her thoughts to the air. "NO!" Her voice was hoarse but strong. Thalia allowed her eye to move to the side, seeing how she was able to hold anything in a hand that was not there. But it was, a full arm clad in steel from fingers to shoulder, solid metal from the point it was lost and onward. It moved stiffly but powerfully, and when it clamped down it didn't let go. She rose to her feet, still grabbing the thing that was her, writhing in black and decay, evil and putrescence. "By Tyr or by Death, Odin or Jesus Christ, I don't fucking care anymore. You are a tool. I own you. And you're going back in the goddamn box!"

Her fist of iron, still clamped upon the creature's wrist, slammed into its face once, twice, three times. Thalia brought it down at a sharp angle, ripping the limb away just below the elbow, even as her true hand hardened its fingers and burrowed into the thing's black eyes. A blade, wide at the base but narrowing sharply until it terminated with a stiff point two feet down, slid and formed from the iron of her limb. It penetrated the creature's chest and impaled its heart with little difficulty. Thalia even got to hear it scream. Before it fell fully silent, she leaned in close to the thing. "You belong... to me." Her teeth, her own living teeth - sunk into the black veined flesh of its throat and ripped away a piece. After a hard swallow of the awful stuff, Thalia spoke in a manner that could freeze bone: "And I'm taking you back inside of me. Behave."



Thalia's eyes flew open, though she did not move. She was in a house in Quincy, Florida. The fire was still going, though with less illumination than she remembered. Time had passed. No one was in immediate danger, everything seemed quiet. Slowly, her eyes began to close again, but this time, a small smile formed on her lips. Oh, what interesting things the day might bring tomorrow.

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The moment that Erica got into a proper, rigid, "Lift Me" position, Hank took to his appointed role as heavy lifter with grace and gusto. Such was it that he was able to easily, even a little recklessly, hoist the younger lady up to such a point that he could brace his feet at perpendicular angles and form a mighty human platform from which she could inspect and/or climb into the attic with minimal effort. Perhaps the recent bit of exercise worked wonders for him, even as he was at the beginning of his declining years. Or perhaps being in the presence of younger people made him likewise feel more youthful and vital. Hank reminded himself that, at his age, any amount of unnecessary physical bravado might just land him with a slipped disk or the like, which could probably get him killed long before the injury subsided. But he did take the moment to appreciate that he was still a pretty damned strong guy, his age taken into consideration.

While the woman did whatever she was doing, Hank was surprised to find out that she was actually engaging in small talk. Seemed odd, but these little things probably took her mind off of the possibility of some nameless dead guy appearing right in her face the second she stuck it up there and gnawing her little nose off. That would require a lengthy series of events involving putting her out of her misery and somehow fishing the dead guy back out of the attic, destroying its brain, and figuring out who got to go through its pockets first. Somewhere in there, Hank would have hoped that Erica was polite enough to click off his light before, you know, she died horribly. So okay! Small talk! Hank was in. It's not like this information could be used against him or anything.

"New Hampshire there, brown-eyes. Small township in Cheshire County. Used to be the Sheriff there, before, ah... stuff... Yeah, stuff. Damnit. You?"

He had briefly considered delving further into the thought, but the oddest, most out of place noise assailed his ears. It was as if someone were hitting a locked metal box with a blunt object at nighttime in an Dead Asshole Infested Swamp. He didn't say anything at first, but he did turn his head in the general direction of the sound, his face twisted into a clear "wuzzafuck?" expression. He stood slackjawed, wondering what piece of experience based advice (read: sarcastic comment followed by calling him a girl's name) he could offer just then, when something even more unexpected happened.

"Hey there. Does um, does anyone else smell SPAM? Like, recently opened SPAM? Anyone?"

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Manny sit in his corner in his deep sleep still. No one had woken him up to take over yet so he would enjoy a little more sleep before trying to improvise a blood transfusion. In dream land Manny and company were making their way across the stadium as gunshots ran out. The old dentist could hear the Crack Crack Crack of the military rifles going off over and over again. Other rounds were going off, but he knew the difference well enough. Despite most people going the direction Manny and crew were heading in the crowd seemed to be getting thinner as they went on. Were people just spreading out? Or were they trying to hide? He wasn't sure, and he didn't like it.

After walking a good 20 minutes Manny had realized that most of the people in the crowd near him were gone. It was Himself, Jimmy, and Suzen. There were a couple people who passed by when the trio slowed down but they were out of sight fast. They were running, the trio was moving very slow. Suzan was still processing what had happened on the field and Kimmy was getting sicker by the second. "Manny we need to stop." Suzan spoke. "Jimmy cant keep going like this. He'll only get worse." Manny knew she was right, but the gunshots were only getting louder and he had no idea where the exit was in this place. "Yeah take five. If we're smart we can avoid most of the carnage while Jimmy gets some rest." Not smart. They needed to be lucky, and he knew that.

He could hear the sounds of machinegun fire in the structure around them. But now there was another noise. A noise that to this day haunts Manny in his dreams. The violent buzzing noise of thousands upon thousands of voices all screaming and moaning for the same thing. Living Flesh. For now, the buzzing voices were outside in the field and they were outside the stadium in general. But inside here, they were safe. "Manny..." He heard the young voice speak. Manny turned to see what what happening. Jimmy lay dead still on the ground, Suzen attempting to comfort him in his final moments. "He's.... dead...." The fever would be Manny's best guess. They lacked what they needed to treat and infection like the one Jimmy had. "There's nothing we could have done. At best, we could have only bought him a couple hours with proper medical supplies." He wasn't sure on this but he just needed her to feel better.

Though feeling better wasn't an option right now. From the hallway the group of them had came from was now starting to fill with the same buzzing moans of the hordes outside and the screams of those they engulfed. "Jesus Christ... SUZAN RUN!" Manny pulled her up, still resistant to leave Jimmy. Manny was too, but his fear of the infected was much more then his guilt for leaving his friend. The buzzing moans were getting closer, were getting louder, the duo had no idea where they were going in this mess of a building. Some areas were blocked by abandoned improvised military structures, other seemed to bring them closer to the buzzing. Manny thought about the girl in the parking lot, the one with the missing arm. Could he do that again?

In a literal sense he could, he still had almost 200 shells on his person and his shotgun was in prime condition. But last time he fired the gun he had hesitated and Jimmy had gotten attacked. Afterwards still left him a mess and mentally he wasn't sure if he could do that again. Though what would they do if they came across more infected? Suzan was a capable woman but she had only fired a gun once and it was a miracle that no one had gotten hurt. Granted, there's not much point in firing the gun unless it was to hurt something. But as the buzzing hordes got closer and louder the trio now duo had to make a choice. Keep running, or hide. "Suzan, we need to find an emergency exit now. Anything that will get us to the ground." The ground was where the infected all were, but staying in the building they would get to where Manny and Suzan were soon enough. And if they kept trying to avoid them, they would find themselves trapped. Manny tried to convince himself he could shoot the gun in his hands again, just to get them outside and away. But he wasn't so sure. After running and hiding a bit more they found a set of stairs that should take them right down to the ground level. There were screams and moans clearly audible from down below. "We have to try... we stay up here and we will die here." Suzan nodded her head and responded. "I know. It doesn't make this any easier to do." The duo made their way down the stairs, ready to make a run for the truck that used to belong to their recently departed. Back in the house though, Manny was still deep in his sleep. Debating which reality was worse.

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All was going fine as Ash was making his way into the house, Amelia was doing her utmost to be as helpful, but her direct help wasn't apparently needed for him to arrive. Never the less once he started a monologue training speech about what had to be done and how it had to be done, Amelia perked up, listening to him and paying a good attention to what was being said. After he finally finished speaking, she nodded, looked at Riley and then back at Ash.” Alright...” She said as she ushered him towards the table, paying close attention to him... just in case he suddenly decides to fall over because of massive blood loss. Luckily that didn't transpire in the few steps it took to get from his previous position to the table in the dining room.

“Alright...let me help you...” She mumbled as she was trying to help him get onto the table and placed the medkit next to him while looking at the injury. From experience she knew the bullet was still there and he said so himself. She could roughly guess it was about a finger length deep inside from feeling it last time. She leaned over the wound to see better as she started gently pulling the cloth to the sides, hoping it hadn't gotten stuck by the blood just yet. Since she had leaned over, there was some center point of mass shenanigans going on. And as she tried to turn around to ask Riley if she found any of that booze quite yet, she lost her balance a little and her hand and finger was just over the wound still. What followed next was a typical case of Mister Bean-ry comedy as her finger got pushed into the wound once more.

Amelia froze for a moment before she bailed away from Ash as fast as she could.” I DIDN'T MEAN TO!” She stated dashing to the kitchen counter thing. She had left the medkit next to Ash.” Riley, you do it...” She muttered out to her lover, keeping her eyes on Ash, half expecting something to come flying.

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Jack nodded as Tatiana gave him directions, walking forward with Jamie into the great room and setting down the carseat. He then carefully undid the fastenings and picked his son up, his eyes watering slightly, as he set Jamie down in the playpen. He tore his gaze away from his son for a moment, looking at his wife as she sat down on the loveseat. Even as tired and grimy as she was, Tatiana looked so beautiful. She always looked perfect to him - even if she was in a clean wedding dress or in the tired clothes of the apocalypse. Her beauty radiated from within.

"Solovey, I...I'm so glad to have found ya again," Jack said softly. He wanted to reach out and take her hands, to pull her into his arms and hold her, but he wasn't going to startle her. She was a fearless bird, but she was still a nightingale and he didn't want to rush into anything or assume anything. There was a lot that they needed to talk about, but he loved her more than anything and would accept whatever she told him. He hoped that she still felt the same way about him - that she still considered herself to be his wife - but their marriage had been less than one day old when they were separated.

"And Jamie, man, he's...he's so beautiful," Jack choked up a little bit just thinking about it. He paused, glancing over towards the exit to the room and thinking about the others for a moment. Ash would be fine with Riley and Amelia right - or maybe with just Riley?

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When she traded off shifts with Alex and he asked her if there was anything to report, Beatrice shook her head. She'd reveal her private thoughts about how Thana may have deserted them in the morning, if there was no sign of Navy. There was no sense in putting mistrust in the group if it wasn't warranted. Beatrice then walked, feeling like a zombie, over to the counter and curled up into a small ball, leaning against it.

She never liked sleeping with her back exposed - it made her feel vulnerable, even in this house. Her crossbow was set down an arm's reach away, but unloaded. She didn't want to have a nightmare and shoot herself - or one of her companions - in her sleep somehow. As she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, Beatrice dreamt that she was back in the normal world and her foster father was driving her to college. They were running late - they had 15 minutes worth of travel to go and only 14 minutes until the orientation session started.

"Hold on, we have to go off road," he said, as he swung the wheel abruptly. Their car broke through the guardrail and missed the highway below that he had been aiming for, falling what felt thousands of feet before plummeting into the sea. Her family was able to escape from the car - but somehow, Beatrice was trapped inside. No matter how much she pounded on the doors, the pressure was too great. She tried to scream out to them, but they didn't answer.

"Don't leave me!" Beatrice screamed.

And as per the Dice Gods - This will be the last post before the "time jump" - get ready everyone. We will be starting something new in the not so distant future. There will be skills handed out as well as some adjustments on Relations when it happens.

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Wayne really wasn't paying a lot of attention to what was going on around him right then. He seemed to be off in his own little world as he swatted at the air and chased around something that no one else could see. It might have been a good thing, it might have been a bad thing. At least he wasn't in anyone else's way right then. Over near where the floor board had been pulled up there was some interesting things going on. Seemed under the floor board was a box that had been found and the lock was now broken. It was time to see what just was inside the worn out tin treasure chest.

Inside was not something most this day and age might want to keep hidden, such as food or water or ammo. No, this looked more personal. They were pictures. Seemed generations worth in the small stack. Maybe they were of the people that used to run this place, or just people that passed through. It was rather varied. There was a set of about half a dozen pictures that seemed to go together but moved through the years. There were two men in the pictures, one older than the other, but at that age, over the years it didn't seem to matter the passage of a handful of years. The girl in the pictures with them though seemed to age rapidly but it looked as if she was just growing up. On the back of each of the pictures was a year and a single word - Martin.

Wayne moved over to an open spot on the ground and flopped down hard. Resting his hands behind the back of his head as he stared up to the darkness above him. He smirked a bit about the Spam mentioning but didn't say anything. Instead he went to the question that was asked as he seemed rather proud of himself for some reason. His pack was being used as a pillow by this time and he wasn't being gentle with it. Punching it a few times to "work the lumps" out. "Brooklyn, was a cop before Law and Order left the building. Now I'm a member of G.O.M.W.A - Gumpy Old Men With Attitude. Think the paradox of NWA," he chuckled.

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Tatiana was not moving from her spot right then. The fight from earlier was finally starting to set in and she was feeling it. When she heard Riley yell she had to stop herself from getting up. Well, she tried to move but then a shot of pain hit her ribs and she flinched. Leaning back in her seat she opted to stay right where she was. "If ve do, it's in the bag in the corner of the kitchen," she called out. There was a large bag in the corner of the kitchen that had a lot of canned food and such in it. In the bottom of it was several small airplane type bottles of different boozes.

After that she just looked over towards Jack and nodded a bit. There was none of her tell tale smile through the worst of things. It was more than clear she was beaten both inside and out but she wasn't broken. She was worn thin though and it was showing. She had imagined seeing Jack again after all this time and it always had a lot of visible love in there. This time, now that it was real, she was just good knowing he was alive and with his son. It was about fucking time. Froggy would be glad to know they found each other, wherever he was.

Taking a deep breath she nodded again. "Da, he is. Ve keep him safe and alive, all that matters nov," she said in a weary voice. Jamie whimpered a bit and Tatiana looked over to him. "Hungry, food in bag. One jar is enough," she said as she curled up a bit. Jack could handle feeding Jamie. If he couldn't he would learn. She had. The diaper bag had several jars. Peas, carrots, and the like. They were larger jars and a bit more chunky but the boy had a few teeth. He had a sippy cup as well, about half way full of water. There was a box or two of formula as well. Some rags and a change or two of clothing. Tatiana's eyes were already drifting close. Not that they were wide to begin with. The bruising had swollen the a lot.

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Beatrice's silent shake of her head to him served to reinforced the silence that had enveloped the whole house, but not in the sense what he associated dead silence with before. There weren't any Chalies around them, not that Bea had to report, which he took as a good sign. They had hopefully been smart about it, the silent and dimly lit approach, which it usually was in his experience. Alexander gave Bea a nod back as he straightened himself up against the wall, taking another look at his brother and sisters in arms. It looked like they were all fast asleep, which they all duly deserved.

Alexander wondered where Thana was, and more importantly if she was alive. She had to be, or else they were in a sitaution best described as FUBAR. But she was Navy, and the way she had pulled herself out of Hell back in Eden gave the old veteran good hope that she was all right. The thought of it sent a shiver down Mugsy's spine. No, wait. It was the inside of the house cooling down, and here Alexander had undressed earlier. Not that it was a big surprise when he thought about it, he had been in Florida for many years before the world went to Hell.

Perhaps that's what kept him awake as he sat guard for the three others, thinking about his previous life there in Florida a few years earlier? All the people he'd known and trusted there, all who died...how many because of him? And those alive? Were they still there, waiting for him?

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So Nigel was in the company of the former arms of the Law? From what he had experienced around the two so far that day, he wouldn't have guessed that. Not by a long shot. But then again what did they think he was, if they had wondered about that at all? Not what they joked around him about, but his previous life? Since they all clearly didn't share his initial hesitancy to share his background, Nigel decided that perhaps it was okay for him to open up a little more?

"Looks like I'm the only teacher here then, go figures. Teacher and reenactor, but you already knew that didn't you?" Nigel "Hadrian" said with a chippier tone than before, settling into the relative safe environment that they had managed to capure for themselves. Hopefully that was not a cue for either Hank or Wayne to start with their jokes again. Not that Nigel would be listening with both ears, as he finally managed to open the tin box to look into it to find...pictures? A small stack of them, with three people that stood out to Nigel as he went through them. Two men and a girl, neither of which he recognized. Should he have? How? Nigel hadn't been to Florida before, and certainly not in that fishing camp. Did they own it, or had they simply been passing through? Nigel had no idea, but he found browsing through them to be interesting. At least for now, while Nigel asked Wayne "I take it Erika and I aren't part of that group?"

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Okay, this was probably partially his fault. Maybe it wasn't, but that's what Ash told himself after Amelia had taken a few hasty steps away from him after jamming a finger into his open bullet wound, again. The Captain bit back a stream of profanity, and was even largely successful in his endeavor to do so. Some did manage to slip out at the end, though, and despite his best efforts to not sound like an angry Viking lady he once knew, the writhing and f-bombage might have made her proud. He did note with some relief that little Jamie was out of the room. Whether the baby could understand him or not, he would have felt bad about adding unwanted sounds to his newly forming vocabulary.

But as it was now, Amelia had traded off responsibility of his medical care to Riley, which might have given him some concern were it not for the fact that damage (let's face it) had already been done. Instead of adding to his own personal chunk of aggravation on the matter of his gaping, bleeding hole which still contained a highly uncomfortable hunk of foreign metal, Ash took a deep, steadying breath and dug into his repertoire of trained skills, both from his military experience and his more recent immersion with Newnan's Medical powerhouse, Victor Bonheur. He was once an officer and now, thanks to the Doctor, he was a passable field medic. The knowledge that he passed along was worth more than anything that could be scavenged, captured, or bartered for anymore. One might say that he owed it to the man to continue passing it along.

"Alright, Superstar. One step at a time, you've seen this done before. I'll talk you through for as long as I'm conscious, okay? You have got this." His voice was strained but low, even, and calm. The intent was to bolster confidence and provide clear instruction as this otherwise untrained survivor "learned on the job", as it were. "Basic stuff. Now, sterilize, pick that tool up, and let's begin." In hindsight, this was patience that he should have showed with Amelia, despite his clear and painful reasons for blowing his top earlier.

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Sleep was not entirely Thalia's friend. It came, it left, it came again. While she had genuinely thought that she would be dead to the world for a long, long time, apparently that was left for people who were on veritable buttloads of IV drip medication. When she was shot, prior to the whole Zed Uprising thing anyway, she was more or less down for the count following surgery. But again, fully functioning hospital with fully functioning anesthesia. And she didn't have the head for pharmaceuticals that others might. Lack of experience. She did manage to have some creepy dreams, likely fueled by trauma and opiates, plus her own nonstandard upbringing. But now, more mundane concerns took her as she lay upon the floor, covered by a blanket and not much else, staring into an almost dead fire in the hearth.

Thalia made damn sure to put absolutely zero weight on her prematurely terminating arm while sitting up, though it was an endeavor that took a lot longer than it should have. Something about having a different center of balance seemed like a detail, until you tried to actually make your body perform tasks like it used to. She needed more time. Lots more. And eventually, something to take the place of her arm. That dream of hers gave her one hell of an idea, though it would be immensely more difficult to do so now than it would have been a few years ago. Good idea, but a pipe dream now. Unrealistic. She needed to think to what she could do more immediately. Mostly, that would be take it easy and recover. But just as soon as she could contribute to the group better, she was going to hit it fast and hard. She was no one's victim, not even of her own self-pity.

Right now, she could put a little more fuel on the fire. It was something. Reaching out with her left hand (henceforth known as her only hand), Thalia set a couple of decent pieces onto the last of the flames rising from glowing, orange embers. She waited for a bit to ensure that they were catching, but when the first signs of that very thing revealed themselves, Thalia gave the room a quick glance. Thana was still gone. Alexander seemed to have watch, Manny was off in dreamland, and Beatrice was curled in a ball against the bar with her crossbow at her side. Regarding the woman, Thalia noted that she really couldn't be comfortable in the least like that. Not that she was doing any better at all, her swollen residual limb beginning to really throb now that the meds were clearing out of her system. She considered taking the other pill in her watch pocket. It was what she had it for, really. "Not yet." she told herself at a bare whisper. Those things were valuable, and she should really only use them if she couldn't tolerate the pain anymore. It sucked, no doubt, but it wasn't getting any worse right then.

Beatrice looked uncomfortable. Thalia kind of owed her, too. She kept up her droll sarcasm and dark sense of humor, she assumed for the purposes of keeping her grounded while a massive but necessary trauma had been done to her. Bea was a good friend to her, in her own, standoffish way. Even after a year. And again, the woman didn't look comfortable at all. It was a painfully slow process to accomplish, but Thalia began to move, half sliding and half crawling across the floor with her blanket alternating between being in her teeth and in her only hand. She didn't try to stand at this point. Even if she could, the sudden change in blood pressure might cause her to black out and clip her head on something harder than her skull. Bad tactic. Like the tale of the Tortoise and the Hare, slow and steady was going to win this for her. It took a couple of minutes, but Thalia finally was able to come up along Beatrice's side opposite of her weapon. The position allowed for her to keep her stump away from incidental harm as a bonus. From there, she stretched her good arm out, draping half of her blanket across Bea's curled form as she leaned herself against the bar alongside her friend. "It's okay, we're safe. Get some rest." Thalia whispered, just in case the movement caused her to stir.

The effort itself was far more draining upon Thalia than it should have been. At least she was tired enough to get more sleep now, and she could feel herself drifting back off, her head nodding forward and her left side pressed against the warmer form of her fellow survivor.

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The effort of maintaining his stance as a human stepladder was beginning to take a toll on Hank. There was the curse of his marching years; he could still do almost everything he could as a younger man but the duration and recovery times were a bitch. But this was his one job, and damnit, he was going to do it for as long as was needed. Unless Erica decided to take her own sweet frigging time, then she was on her own. "Hey, tell me ya got some good news there, Apocalypse Barbie. Uh huh, anything will do. Bonus if you can find some National Geographic magazines or anything about cars. Aw hell, what am I saying? As long as we're just, ah, throwing around fake bonus points, I'll give you a shiny bucketful of them if you can magic me up a steak and some homestyle fries. Eh? Bucketful? Ehhh..." His voice trailed off, thinking to what food he actually had access to and considering whether it was even worth it to break into it that evening. He wasn't starving yet, and packaged edibles were in shorter supply these days.

When he heard that their new traveling companion, Sportacus, was once a teacher, Hank gave an appreciative nod in his direction. Not that he appreciated the man on a personal level. He might, but that wasn't quite the point of the head nod. More to that point, "World needs teachers. Even if they dress like extras from Ben Hur, world needs teachers still. Tell me something, though - state job? Because I've got to say, I'm really goddamn glad I sunk so much of my paycheck into the state retirement program." Sarcasm flowed from him like a native language. "You think they'll let us cash out early? I've had my eye on this condo and I'm afraid it won't be on the market when I'm 65."

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Riley listened to Ashton as he started to give the two of them instructions on how to actually remove the bullet, nodding a bit as she listened in on it. Then Tatiana answered her question that there would be some in the nearby bag, as Riley started to make her way over there, she pulled it open. She shifted some of the contents that were inside, until she found a few of those small bottled alcoholic drinks that were served on flights usually. Riley watched for a moment as Amelia started to do the bullet removal attempt again, only to hear her yelp and move back seeing her girlfriend fumble it again. Riley took a moment and nodded slightly, she had never done anything like this before at all, and was really nervous.

"Alright then, you can do this Riley.." Riley said as she grabbed two of the mini bottles and made her way over, using one of them to wash out her hands with, her hands would certainly smell like booze later. "Sorry it's going to sting a bit." Riley told Ashton as she opened up the second mini bottle and poured it over the wound. She slowly pulled Amelia's first aide kit over to her a bit closer Riley was oddly a bit to calm as she took the single pair of tweezers that were inside the kit and looked up at Ashton. "Okay starting now." Riley gently slid the tweezers inside, taking a few more deep breathes.

After a bit of searching through the bloody wound Riley felt the bullet and slowly and gently started to pull it out looking at it and then over at Ashton. "A nice little souvenir for you, I can autograph it for you if you'd like as well" Riley said as she set the blood covered bullet down on the counter, she then started to stitch up the wound. And then took the adhesive dressing and used one of the skin cleaning wipes and started to clean off the blood around the wound and then applied the bandage as well. Taking a deep breath as soon as she was done Riley walked back and started to wipe her hands off. "Sorry there aren't any dinosaur printed bandages in there or any kind of lollipops either, but I think you will live." She said, satisfied with her work on the good captain.

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Erica walked over and with the aide of Hank she pulled herself up onto the attic area, as she used Hanks light she started to search around the area. Until she stopped and looked back down as the three men started to answer her question, raising an eyebrow just a bit, she wasn't expecting to be in the law enforcement group like the old men. Wayne certainly didn't sound like the type to even be a cop, and Hank didn't seem like the sheriff type either. "Was a detective for the Detroit PD back in the day." Erica simply answered as she moved around a bit and started to scan the area.

Then she froze when she saw the light landing on a walker, seeing it being almost nearly just skin and bones chained up to the wall on the far end of the attic. Erica then moved back to where the ladder would have been sticking her head back out and stared down at the three men. "There's a walker chained up here, we are going to have to deal with it." Erica pointed out, it could simply come out and attack she wasn't going to take the chance for it to break its own arms to come at them. She did feel bad for the walker, either some really sick bastard chained it up there. Or the person got bit and chained themselves up there willingly so that they wouldn't turn and hurt anyone else.

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Manny found himself still dreaming and in a deep sleep. In the real world he was very peaceful and seemed pretty content with life. IN the land of dreams Manny and Suzan ran for their lives. Once they made it to the bottom of the stairs infected started to surround them from all sides. The amount of bodies present made Manny want to puke. "MANNY!" He saw Suzan point as she screamed, one of the infected was seconds away from attacking one of the duo, so Manny turned the barrel of his shotgun and pulled the trigger firing the shotgun's second shell into the torso of the infected, ripping it to pieces at near point blank range. Manny froze, but in the chaos realized something important. The only thing standing between the death of Suzan and Manny was the now empty shotgun in his hands. "Shit... Suzan warm me when more get close." He dropped to his knees, opening his suitcase full of shells. He had just under 200 20 gauge shells in the case. Loading the shells into the gun he closed it, then put a few in his pockets. He didn't know how many chances he would get to pull shells out of his suitcase. "Manny He's getting back up!" She shouted yanking a fire axe off the wall.

Manny had to give the girl props on her bravery, but he didn't think she was any real special hand to hand fighter. Before She could get close to the figure that Manny had believed to have shot dead he fired the first barrel again into the torso. He wondered if the infected were just that hyped up that they didn't care about pain, even if their bodies have received mortal injuries? But despite the second shell blasting a hole right through the chest now the once whole man stood up, a hole big enough for an arm to stick through in the center of his chest as well as torn ribs sticking out. What... the fuck. Manny took aim again at the figure trying to stand for the second time when he heard Suzan speak again. "SIX O'CLOCK!" Behind them? He turned barrel lowered, then saw the next infected almost right on him. He raised the gun and fired the lower barrel right into her head, taking off the side of her face. After he fired he ejected the two spent shells and reloaded.

He turned back firing into the neck of the first man, he went down, still moving, but he didn't get back up. "JUST RUN! WE can't stay here anymore!" They both ran faster then Manny believed possible. Suzan had taken his case full of ammo and cleaning supplies for his gun, Manny held the gun ready to fire at any infected that got in their way. For the most part, they were too busy killing and... eating the other refugees. Manny and Suzan appeared to have arrived late to the chaos. They had a target though, Jimmy's truck. It was old, and only had a few gallons in the tank. But it was their only option. They needed to get out of the city. Once the duo arrived in the parking lot there seemed to be more infected and torn up bodies then there were inside. Where the hell was the army? How did they let this get so out of control?! Manny decided it was too late for questions like this, it appeared everyone and their mother had the same idea they did.

Even though things seemed to be calmer inside then outside, there were a lot more infected, and they seemed more interested in Manny and Suzen then the ones inside. "Suzen, get the case open and be ready to pass me the shells with the plastic covers on the front. The ones with the metal tip hold off, the chock isn't adjusted right for those." Manny reloaded the single spent shell and started moving forward. "They walk and limp, move slowly and we'll be fine." He didn't know that for sure, but there were too many to run past, and if they stayed put they would get overrun. So they pushed forward. The old dentist fired shot one into an infected woman in the stomach, watching her guts explode almost made Manny puke again. She still went down, moving but down. He turned and fired the second shell, this one hitting the lower neck of a younger man, he still kept walking. SO Manny reloaded and fired again. The process repeated for what seemed like forever, fire, fire, reload, and walk. Fire, fire, reload, and walk. Fire, fire, reload, and walk. He didn't even notice that Suzan had stopped following until she was out of sight.

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Amelia observed really carefully what was going on, partially because she was really concerned about Ash, partially because she was really concerned about her wellbeing in case Ash decides to throw something at her. She was careful to stay well outside effective range of his limbs and half hidden around the counter. She really didn't mean to stick a finger in the wound again! She lost her balance while she was pulling his clothing from the wound so she could cut the cloth back then, but apparently the metaphorical roll on the d20 was not in her favor this time around... again.

As Riley progressed through the improvised surgery, Amelia kept her close attention and it seemed like everything was proceeding more or less perfectly. She vaguely wondered if Riley had missed her calling, seeing how well this was going. When Ash was finally patched up, Amelia still keeping well outside range of being grabbed or kicked, albeit it would be justified given what she had done, sighed in relief." I'm sorry Ash... I really didn't mean to, I swear... I just lost balance there. Do you need anything?" She asked and looking around, maybe some food was going to be good for him.

Then again on second thought maybe she shouldn't get close to him for a while. She imagined that Ash probably wouldn't forget the wound poking for a while... maybe more than a while.

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Jack nodded. He stepped forward and pressed a kiss to Tatiana's forehead. He couldn't help himself. He hesitated, looking at his wife for a moment. "I got this," he promised her, more or less giving Tatiana permission to go to sleep. He could handle the kid while she got the rest she really did need. He smiled slightly at her, before he knelt on the ground and started looking through Jamie's food options. None of it looked particularly appetizing and as he glanced at Jamie, holding up a chunkier can, Jack shook his head.

"How did she convince ya this was bettah than a boob?" he whispered to his son, cracking a slight smile. He looked at the peas and carrot jars, then noticing the sippi cup of water and the formula. Glancing back at Tatiana, Jack felt a bit like a kid who said I got this! and then, as soon as they got to work, realized that they did not got this at all. He looked at the cans again and decided that if Jamie couldn't eat carrots, they wouldn't be in this bag. And Jack was pretty certain - based on nothing at all - that his son preferred carrots to peas. He set those things aside but left out the water.

"Okay buddy, help me out here..." Jack said, opening up the can of carrots. "Now...I gotta airplane this to ya," he muttered to himself. He was pretty sure that was how you fed an infant. "It tastes bettah if I airplane it, I think..." he added, taking a deep breath, and then he attempted to feed his son.

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Beatrice stirred slightly as Thalia laid down next to her. She stared at her friend in the darkness for a moment, before Beatrice nodded and closed her eyes once more. The temperature was dropping inside the home and her feet felt a bit of chill to them, as did the rest of her body. In the purpose of warmth - and nothing else of course! - Beatrice got a little bit closer to Thalia and quickly drifted back to sleep. This time around, her dream was still weird - though not nearly as deadly.

She found herself in a clean white room - and glancing around, she felt like she was waiting for something. There was a bench and a calming fountain next to it and Beatrice walked forward. She put her hand in the mist of the fountain and hesitated, pulling her hand back. It was warm to the touch - not, hot, no searing she realized. "What the hell..." Beatrice then turned around, only to be struck with the realization that none of this was real. It was just a dream. She had always wanted to try lucid dreaming at some point in her life and she stepped forward, imagining that there was an apple in front of her on the ground.

Instead, a rattlesnake appeared in her dream. Close enough?

Well as I promised, a time skip was going to occur and it is happening right now. As you can tell the date has changed in the header. The dice have determined that we have moved forward a total of 16 weeks. It has been a hard travel but! NO DEATHS! Congrats! Well that you know of. As far as supplies go, we are holding tight to what you had at the beginning of the jump instead of restocking fully. There is reason to that but don't worry. At this point just figure on that for now. Went through supplies found supplies, went through them again. Wash, rinse, repeat. Now, as far as what happened - Here is a quick run down....

Team Swamp: You all have stuck together over the last 16 weeks. Sure that first night and well every night since then has been one hell of a ride but hey, you seem to work. Three guys, one girl, getting the fuck out of the swamp the next day. It was about three days of walking, talking, watching Wayne talk to the air, before you found a small place to hold up for a bit. Supplies have been hard to come by but you have kept moving South West. At least you figure you have. You passed close to Leesburg and Albany but there was a horde and you pushed around it until you found the Florida line. You have just kept moving since then.

Team Newnan: Ashes injury got a bit infected and you had to hold up in that house for several months before it was fully cleared out and he was fully recovered. After that, it has been one hell bent trip to keep moving to get to Mexico Beach. It hasn't been easy though. Having Jamie with you makes travel slow, really slow. The hotter it got the slower it got, especially without a car most of the time. It was never hard finding a vehicle but finding fuel is the big deal. That has been few gallons here and there and far between. Tatiana took a while to rewarm up to everyone but eventually she did. She is still more distant and sadder than she use to be but there is a lot more of the old Tatiana than there used to be. She still hasn't opened up on what she went through over their time apart to anyone but she did say last time she saw Froggy he was alive, she wouldn't say more.

Team Eden: Thalia has healed up well over the last 16 weeks. Thana never showed back up and of course you all wanted to look for her but you kept crossing your fingers she would return - she never did. Where the fuck is she? After about a week it was pretty much assumed she was dead, she had to be right? Thalia took about four weeks until she could be moved but hey that house wasn't so bad. You had food and water and shelter. It could be a lot worse. Though once Thalia finished healing up enough to start moving again, that is what you did. There was a goal before Thana disappeared - Mexico Beach. Might as well go there, it was a start and was in the same direction that Thalia was going to start with before she got with the group.

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Temperature: 89F (32C)
Humidity: Fucking High (Around 99%) - Raining off and on all day
Wind Speed: 7 MPH (11 KPH)
Cloud Coverage: About 66% covered with thick dark clouds

It is around eight in the morning in the mid of July in what was once known as Wewahitchka Florida. Each of the groups arrived at different times of the night in the city and have set up their camps hoping to take a look around today and see if there are any supplies. Everyone ended up walking into town. Groups Eden and Newnan have always had the same goal since Eden fell, to get to Mexico Beach. From where you are now, it is roughly a day or two walk at most to the end goal. Team Swamp, shit you just want to reach the coast and go for a swim at this fucking point.

Tatiana has been up for the last several hours tending to Jamie who has a bit of the sniffles it seems. No fever so it is probably only allergies but with no meds or herbs it has made it hard. "Ve find you meds, yes ve vill," she says quietly to Jamie as she suctions out his nose with a nose bulb. He is hating it and screaming. Pushing the thing away from him as she fights for him to let her try to clear out his airways but that boy is having none of it. She starts muttering in Russian. Everyone knows she is cussing by now, and probably has a good idea of what she is saying by now as she tends to speak Russian more and more these days when she is frustrated. Which happens a lot.

You all are held up in what used to be a bank. Why not? Thick walls, a good place to hunker down and while you don't need the money that is scattered everywhere it does make for good burning, place is cooler than most other buildings, and there was a break room that people hadn't broken into yet. So funyuns are awesome to have as as some doritos. Not to mention hot bottled carbonated beverages. If only you had some ice. That would rock but fuck it. You found enough to get through the night. Might want to get moving as you are so close to Mexico Beach now Ash can probably taste it. New skills! (Everyone in Team Newnan has gained Basic Russian over these last weeks. Jack has gained Russian to Fluent levels and Basic Dad Jokes - Go ahead and alter your CS to add in the new skills.

Team Eden lucked the fuck out. As you have a one handed person and a one legged person this has been a bitch of a time but omg, hey Lady Luck smiled on you two days ago and you found a roll of duct tape and some wood. Alexander has a peg leg for now! That with the crutch you all found a few weeks ago and he is able to get around a lot better. You are held up in a house that was totally stripped of everything - including furniture. It was a night on the floor without finding really any supplies. It sucked but at least you had a floor with a roof to stay out of the rain. It was something.

Everyone, skills time - All those active in Team Eden have acquired a new skill - Redneck Amputee Engineering. With having so many lost limbs in your group everyone has gotten pretty good at thinking outside of the box to come up with ways to use what you find around you to help with Alexander having some sort of device to help him walk and other items to help Thalia having only one arm. Right now she a knife like stabbing implement attached to a metal cup that she has fit to her nub. (There has been many a joke about finding her a ten speed vibrator and some batteries to attach to it instead.)

Team Swamp has just been a basket of fun running straight to hell. You ended up crashing in some door and cabinet maker shop next to a gas station. Why the fuck not? It has walls, but it seems the place was heavily stripped of most of the tools and wood. But who cares, the cement floor was the closest thing you have found to an air conditioning unit in the last long time. It actually felt nice to sleep on away from the rain. The fact the building had barely any windows made it a safe place to hold up in over night. Wayne got high the night before on some pills he found and passed out hard. At least this time he wasn't talking in his sleep.

It is early still and Wayne hasn't roused as of yet. Rain is coming down and things seem good. New Skills - Everyone has gained Basic Psychology over the last months dealing with Wayne. Hank has gained Advanced Psychology just because he has been at this a lot longer than the rest. Though as fucked up as it is, that is a good thing - why? It helps you all deal with each other a lot better. Wayne groans a bit and sits up, rubbing his eyes and looking around. "You all hear that?"

Now, this is odd. Everyone from the single person standing in the street to those held up over night are going to hear a loud sound that sounds like thumping being repeating quickly over and over and over again. You aren't sure of what it is but any character with Police/Security/Military background is going to get a chance to figure it out - Leave a roll in chat and if you score 15 or higher on it - let me know. (Only those with official as their past job with Police/Security/Military in their previous job type can make the roll. Don't push it.)

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Manny woke up slow, he considered himself in pretty decent shape for someone of his age, but damn he could feel his age sometimes. The groups sleeping situation didn't help, with a house that had literally nothing in it the floor was the only option. At least the door could still close. He was in pain because of it, but he wouldn't complain out loud, everyone else slept on the same floor. Manny started his morning off as usual, giving his shotgun a quick once over making sure it was as clean as he could keep it without a proper cleaning kit. And making sure that the barrel wasn't obstructed. Both seemed okay, he had been sparing in his use with it due to a lack of ammo, and a lack of a way to properly clean it. Though because it was a break action it wasn't too bad just to find something to act as a ram rod and a piece of cloth and just wipe it down. It wasn't perfect but it did the job.

Looking out the window he saw the store across the street. If things go well, he would like to check that out. It didn't hurt to have some extra food, and with the head they needed to make sure they had more then enough water to stay hydrated. Last thing they need on top of two amputees and an old man who's struggling to hide his age is someone to collapse of a heat stroke. Manny had been trying to pull his weight more to keep things easier for Beatrice, though he didn't want to make himself a liability by getting himself sick. "I think we should make time to check out that store across the street. It's close, and chances are has some decent supplies still." He said just to whoever might be listening. "We might even find some medical supplies. I personally wouldn't mind that." He would also like the chance to spend some time indoors, the outside was going to make someone sick sooner or later. Though if this town had something like a gun store then that might be nice, they still had a severe lack of guns and bullets. Plus food and water were doing okay, but it wouldn't be for too long. So maybe food and water first before guns and ammo. Though, if they needed to use what they had left to get the food and water what then? Would they have enough to get more? Their little group wasn't really fit for a mass melee fight anymore.

Though maybe they could lure the undead on the inside outside, and lure them away if they were smart. Two people draw them out and lure them away, two loot in the mean time? Could work. Though who would be the ones to lure? Manny could do that for a while but would it be long enough? Or if it was just a small amount could he just pick them off one at a time with Beatrice's bow? They could probably do some decent damage like that. But what if there were more walkers in town then they thought? Damn, trying to figure this out with the people and supplies they had was hard. They either had to risk it all, or keep going by on minimal supplies. A few trained people with the right tools could clear most of this town if done right. He had seen it in his last community where six people with a couple guns bows and axes cleared out the community house by house with another team providing security for everyone else. This town is a lot smaller then that from what Manny could tell, but there were no real places to build fortifications that would be effective. But that wasn't the goal anyways, it was to get food. Maybe they could clear the building without too much problems, but what if it draws a small horde? That would be a concern for later. For now, the morning dragged on. "We'll either need to get supplies while we are here or keep moving. I don't think its a good idea for us to stay put for too long." Manny also didn't want to sleep on the floor again.

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Another long night in the middle of nowhere. Hunter now without much of a purpose is preparing himself for the long walk home. He also had reason to believe there would be less corpses up north which would be nice. Though here seemed to have a lack of corpses as well. Definitely enough bodies, and a few of them might be corpses, but none that were walking or standing or moving in any sense. Maybe it was the heat, maybe it was when he passed near here a while back and decided to use up some of those sweet 5.56 the local police carried just to see what damage he could do. Though that was a light session, and he didn't think it would do damage to nearby towns, but who knows. His guess was the heat kept them all inactive. He's sure if he decided to start shooting more would show. He was tempted too, because chances are most the walkers would be inside right now, and he was out of food and had only enough water to get to the next town with the gear he was carrying. And luring some outside as an excuse to use some bullets could be useful in lightening his load.

Though the now that Hunter thought about it, if there were any active walkers around Izibell would have probably done something by now. She wasn't really good with inactive ones, but she got defensive the moment she noticed any that moved. So he figured for the time being that they were safe. Though he learned the hard way that Izibell wasn't the best dog for tracking infected. Though she was pushing against his leg again for attention. "We spent the whole night sleeping under a counter as I rubbed you and you want attention now? WE have more pressing matters, like how you suck at rationing so I have to do it for you." That was true, for a big active dog she probably ate more then the average human, and she sucked at taking it slow. Dogs. What will you do. "Just calm yourself, we'll get something to eat today. Or you'll kill some poor animal and I might get to lick the bones again." He said with a grin. This seemed to get her attention, and she sat like she was expecting a treat. "Not now, later." He kept walking, Izibell followed. As he walked he saw some things that seemed off. The colors seemed to blend more then they usually should. He got the Rottweiler's attention and pointed to the weird coloration. She looked excited, then confused. Then back to Hunter still confused. "Nothing, thanks girl." He gave her a rub across the head, she seemed content with it and kept following her ever strange human.

As they walked looking for somewhere that would be easy to clear out and find food in he saw that Izibell had turned her attention and had started acting weird. Was is corpses? No. Not likely, she whines more when she notices them. Though he noticed it too before long. It took him a moment to hear it clearly, it sounded like a loud pressurized thumping noise. Though he had a guess on what ti might be, though he chalked it up to his imagination. But, Izibell had noticed it too. So was it real? Or was he mishearing things? But what the hell would it be doing out here? Or being out period. Hunter was tempted to stay out in the open so that he could find it and be sure of his thoughts, but decided against it. If it was what he thought it was and things turned sour, he lacked what he needed to defend himself. Though he figured his M4 rifle could put up a fight, if his fears were true and it was prepared even partially properly he had no fighting chance. He would wait and see for now. He kept walking, keeping close to potential cover in case things got hot. He started making his way north in town as that seemed like it had more lootable buildings with large open windows. But as he got more northward he noticed two things. One, the space was very open, meaning he would be exposed. Two, there was not much north of his position, not much at all. "We're making great progress girl in the Areas to not loot category. Not unless we can eat cash." The dog just gave what looked like a big smile and looked at Hunter. At the rate things were going, he hoped the people making the noise were friendly. Because he would be too weak to move on his own if he didn't eat soon. TO find food, he would most likely have to back track a bit. He had all day so he wasn't too worried, but damn his gear felt heavier the longer he didn't eat.

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The situation they had all found themselves was quite good for the night actually. Amelia was incredibly glad that they managed to hold up in a sturdy building like a bank. Amelia was still quite paranoid about everything surrounding them and such a fortified location was ideal to soothe her nerves about their situation. It's been a while since they were on the road and it never seemed to be ending, mostly because their inability to secure a stable vehicle to transport them. She missed the good old horde buster.

They had all searched through the bank for everything of use so even if she wanted to search more, there just wasn't anything else to find! Amelia didn't want to sit idly, especially since they were probably going to get moving soon, so she decided to just survey the area through the windows and other openings. She just didn't seem to trust this calm they had going on.” Hmmm... it's really empty out there...” She mumbled looking outside, but as much as searched, she couldn't spot anything bad going on. Except some weird sound, but she had no idea what that was. She then pulled onto her clothing and wiped all the sweat from her face.” Damn weather...” She mumbled... It was just so hot and almost constantly raining throughout the day! The humidity was off the scale! She was practically almost completely wet and even more sweat was appearing.

“Anyone has any idea what this weird sound is?” Amelia called out to the others. They were bound to leave soon and she really didn't want to go out if there was something that could be even remotely dangerous for them. At least in this building they were well defended." Should some of us go check it out before the rest leave?" She asked out with concern in her voice. She didn't like unexplained thigns lately.

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"Good morning to you too, Doc'." Alexander greeted Manny with as their best and only doctor/dentist/surgeon/medic was up and awake. The old veteran had already been up and walking for a while now, old people were like that, early wakers and all that. But Mugsy was also up for another reason. His pegleg. It had been a hard past 16 weeks for him, for all of them. 16 weeks. Three-four months, about 110 days of survival. Counting days had been a prime hobby for tired grunts like ol' mugsy back in 'Nam, and he still did it whenever he could. And for the past two whole days Alexander had been walking almost normally!

It was a jury-rigged piece of wood and duct tape, but it was working. Alexander could walk more freely with that. Painful and awkward as it still was though, it lifted a tremendous weight off his shoulders, and most likely on the others. Those who remained at the very least; Manny, Beatrice, Thalia and him. Thana was gone, wandered into the jungle to never be found or heard from again. Alexander wanted to believe that she was alive and well, and prayed for that too...but...MIA was just one letter away from KIA, and then and there that mattered little.

What mattered was that Alexander had been up early, practicing walking alone on his new pegleg and crutch, going around and around the room. He didn't know if it had annoyed any of the others, but he himself pushed through the annoying falls and gritting pain with the willingness of a GI. He would not break down and give up, not now. "Agreed Manny, I don't want my blisters to get worse or infected with this walking around. But food, water and gear fir..."

Alexander stopped his talking at the end, his ear picking up something outside, in the distance. It sounded like thumping, like...no, it couldn't be? Even for all those years and sounds in-between, there was nothing in the world that could seperate the old veteran from the sounds he was hearing outside. It was way too familiar...

In a large, green clearing in the middle of a vaste and hostile jungle, a group of soldiers was making a stand. A last stand against the hostiles occupying the surrounding vegatation like the flies they were, not giving the surrounded soldiers any moment to catch their breath. Gunfire was erupting from all sides, shots going back and forth the clearing as soldiers were protecting the wounded or being wounded themselves. Alexander was one of the still standing soldiers, bullets buzzing past him and his radio antenna sticking out of his back as the sergeant barked over the radio with their evac. Where the Hell were they? They were getting slaughtered down there! As if on cue, the edge of the jungle erupted into a hellfire of smoke and screams, just as the very same thumping sound approached. Private Polawski turned around just in time to see their evac descending over the tree tops...

"You hear that? Hey wake up, that's a chopper! That's a Huey, coming this way from...the south."

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The past months was not what Nigel "Hadrian" had expected when he met the three survivors in the swamp over three months ago. Hank, Wayne and Erica, they had stuck together through it all, and Nigel hadn't even thought of sticking with Robert for very long either. But there they were, all held up in a door and cabinet shop like a Roman garrison on Germania, enjoying a well-deserved rest after 16 weeks on the road. How the three of them, so different from each other, had not either broken up the group or murdered each other could be seen as a mystery in itself. Nigel "Hadrian" however knew from history that the oddest of people and/or nations banded together when faced with a common enemy, even if some of the people were either poking fun at his Roman interest or just being high as fuck.

That didn't stop Nigel from having a descent sleep that night, leaning up against the wall and cooling himself down on the cement floor like the others. It was a far cry from the escapedes in the swamps, except the Fucking High humidity and heat outside. Some things never changed it seemed. Nigel "Hadrian" had slept without most of his armour on, except the greaves and vambraces which was tolerable enough for the Neo-Roman teacher - He was still contemplating just going for Sporticus, just to shut up Hank and Wayne. But from his sleep he sturred after Wayne asked if they had heard it. "Uh?...what?" Nigel asked himself, only to hear it seconds after his own question. The thumping, what the hell was it? "Anyone seeing anything? That can't be good."

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Riley had found a nice spot in the corner of the bank that they had all settled in from the night before, mainly using her backpack as a pillow. She was surprised that the bank still had any money left in it, when they made their small fire the night before and a few vending machine snacks and drinks that were there. She slowly opened up her eyes letting out a slight yawn as she stretched out a little bit, hearing little Jamie crying out. Her eyes wondering over towards Tatiana tending to the little baby who was throwing a little bit of a fit right now. Riley could pick up a bit of the Russian curses that Tatiana was muttering to herself, she then finally pulled herself up and stretched out once more.

Riley wiped away a lot of the sweat off of her forehead, the humidity of the day was really bad as she adjusted her shirt a little bit as she walked over towards Amelia. As Riley got a bit closer she could hear that loud sound going off as well, she wasn't even sure what it was either. But it was certainly going to draw some walker attention in the area as she took a moment to look out the window from where they were.

Out of the sixteen weeks of just walking, and getting whatever car that they could get their hands on which never lasted very long at all raising an eyebrow she wasn't even sure what it was. "I don't even know, but it's going to most likely wake up any walkers around the area though." Riley said, as she looked over towards Tatiana. "We are going to need some med supplies for sure." She said rubbing her eyes a little bit and yawned again.

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The humidity was really horrible for Erica, she was pretty much just sprawled out on the concrete floor of the cabinet shop that they called home from the night before. Erica stretched out as she got up and made her way over towards Nigel raising an eyebrow towards him, and then looked at Wayne. She started to shrug a little bit, she wasn't sure what it was at the moment just yet as she put on her backpack and strapped her shotgun over her shoulder. "I'm hearing it, but I don't know what it is just yet." Erica pointed out as she stared at Wayne their groups resident junkie. Knowing that he would probably end up feeling the effects of the drugs he had been using she was surprised he still wasn't out cold still.

"We could try and check it out or just simply continue on our way, whatever you guys want to do." Erica said, she wasn't sure what the rest of the men wanted to do, Erica didn't like the idea of the sound it was going to be drawing a whole lot of unwanted attention to their area. "We should try and look for some kind of food as well while we are in this town." Erica suggested, maybe they would get a better look at what was making the sound as well.

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Too long. It had been way too long since this journey started, since they all had become refugees yet again. They had a clear goal in mind, whether the goal was a burnt out shell of a settlement or thriving metropolis was immaterial now. He had his mission. The sidequests had been handled, he had recovered from his wounds, and he was so close now to Mexico Beach that he could damn near hear the waves hitting the shoreline. He just had to make it a little while longer and he could give the dog tags back to Thana, and see where they stood after almost a year and a half. He promised. Even if that big Texan knocked her up and she was perfectly happy with him, goddamnit he promised that woman that he would get there, and he was going to do it. Thana was the mission. Mexico Beach was just the place.

The sun was already warm in the sky when Ash began to stir. For just a moment, he had the mistaken impression that he was back with his old unit, back when he was a highly educated badass with the Army Corps of Engineering, Combat Division. He was a young Lieutenant back then, a little green but fully willing to learn. And order about the noncoms as needed. Mostly the latter. But even as a younger man, Ash was strong, brave, and willing to put his education to use, setting up bridges in the middle of a firefight, defending the location until the troops could arrive and take over, and cutting a path to the next hotspot with the Special Forces guys. It wasn't all bullets and demo charges, however. He did good works by setting up potable water and irrigation systems for developing countries, fortifying soft locations, and building hospitals for locals who desperately needed them. It was long before he had to be a true leader.

Nonetheless, the haze of the morning coupled with flashback dreams was interrupted by the heavy whock-whock-whock sound of something very familiar to the man. Familiar, but a long time since he had heard it with his waking ears. In his state though, with eyes half closed, Ash blurted out with a younger officer's arrogance: "Evac Huey, First Sergeant! Get those ladies togeth..."

Wakefulness slammed into him with the surety of someone dousing him in ice water. He wasn't dreaming. The sound kept up in the distance, growing steadily louder. Ash looked around at the others in his little group of survivors. There was a helicopter, and active, working chopper and it was this close to their goal, yet everyone felt the need to stay inside and talk about gathering supplies later on. Digging into his best chunk of Commanding Presence, Ash's voice boomed across the interior of the bank, "FIVE SECONDS TO GRAB YOUR SHIT. WE ARE ON THE MOVE." Ash had only his pack and his rifle to fetch for himself; he had passed out fully dressed, including the gear on his belt. A comfortable enough seat in the break room sufficed to steal away his consciousness the previous evening, leaving him very ready to move on immediate notice. Good thing then, that he intended to do just that. "Huey inbound, everyone follows me now." Ash couldn't believe he actually used the words "Huey Inbound" this far along in the apocalypse. He was already on his way to the side door, opening to the main parking lot. "We go fast, but we go smart. Two by two cover formation, keep your eyes open. Tati, stay to the middle with Jamie and use buildings as cover. The rest of you, mindful of our flanks and six. Go."

Ash was already out of the door and keeping low in the proud tradition of an veteran American solider moving through unknown and potentially dangerous territory. As soon as his feet touched the relative open of the street, he paused to take stock of their surroundings. His eyes, adjusting to the light of the morning, scanned his immediate vicinity and the skies in search of people on the ground and the source of that almost forgotten noise.

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Thalia was already awake, having drawn the short straw for watch assignments the night previous. Last shift was always a pain in her ass, and there was something just depressing about seeing the sun just start to rise without the promise of hitting a local bakery for some doughnuts or the like when they were really fresh. God, but she missed doughnuts. The Boston Creme filled ones with chocolate glaze across the top, or the crumbly, cake style ones, or the ones with real fruit jelly squirted in the middle, not to mention the massive selection of homestyle muffins she used to love to pick up from this one spot up the road from her old office in Boston. Well, she was making herself hungry, with the only recourse being to rummage through whatever they had in their packs. Which was bullshit. It was one of the worst thing about the Apocalypse, too: Food generally sucked. If she was on her own, out in the wilderness for a good length of time, it wasn't really so bad. Sleeping behind domestic walls, be they barren, sometimes reminded her of the things she wouldn't have anymore. And she was a food person, or used to be. So yeah, sucked.

Oh yeah, and the bottom half of her forearm was missing. That kind of sucked, too. Thalia adjusted the strap to her amazingly improvised prosthetic and readied herself to meet the day as best she could. The fake arm was nothing special, but it gave her a better sense of balance and had a nasty sharp bit of edged, impaling steel on the end. She'd never make the Video Game Hall of Fame, owing to a shortage of thumbs, but she could stab the hell out of something at close range while still using her shield again. Satisfied that her stabby prosthetic (ugly though it was) wasn't going to slip anymore, she walked over to where Beatrice lay and lightly shook her shoulder, "C'mahn bitch, daylight's burning. Almost there now. Just three more months of mosquitoes and crocodile shit and we're golden." It was an exaggerated number, but one had to admit that the going was slow, even after she was able to move properly.

Thalia mentally debated assisting Beatrice's greeting of the day by placing a foot on her hip an shaking her unmercifully, but ultimately decided against it. She didn't want to go toe-to-toe with the surly woman, at least not this early in the day. Maybe later on. With a shrug, she walked over to the wall nearby and slid her feet into badly stained sneakers and picked up her shield. She liked that shield, Really did. And the bitch who used to carry it. She made it too, the previous owner, and though the foulmouthed lady smith to whom it once belonged had slipped from this, their mortal coil, Thalia was confident that the item he left behind would give her a lifetime of service, with minimal maintenance. She slipped the carrying strap over her shoulder, letting it come to rest over her almost empty pack, and gave her pistol a quick check. Yeah she was good to move. And wanted to, with a sense of impatience.

Manny seemed to content himself with planning their next move, scavenging whatever they could based upon what buildings either were or might be closeby. It was a craps shoot, usually. But talking about it sometimes turned it into a game for them. Expectation vs. Reality. The trouble was, more often than not Reality took a ballbat to them. But it was a good way to pass a few moments. Doc wanted a scavenging party? Sure. It was what she did, and pretty damned well, too.

It was when Alexander spoke up that Thalia really paid attention. She saw enough Oliver Stone movies to know what a 'Nam vet meant by "Huey" and "Chopper". Now, it took her a moment to figure out which way was south off the top of her head, but the guess was made super easy when he noted which direction Alexander was looking as he said that. "Wait, helicopter? Working military helicopter this close to Mexico Beach? This could be something, Mugsy." Thalia wasn't the excitable type. It didn't show much in her voice either, but she did share Alexander's sentiment. "I'm going to check this out. You guys should come, too. Hey Bea! C'mahn, girl! I'm gonna get all the chopper for myself and not save you any!"

Thalia removed her 9mm from its holster and slipped outside. She jogged toward the copse of trees to the side of the residence they had squatted in that night, then darted across, into the highway. She figured that, if the helicopter saw her and she couldn't ascertain its intentions, dropping prone might be a good survival tactic. It wasn't like a discarded body on the road was that rare of a thing, anymore. She began to make her say, swiftly and cautiously, to what looked like was once a roadside redneck convenience store if she'd ever seen one, to use the building as soft cover while she made her way toward the noise.

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Well, Hank heard Wayne. He heard Hadrian, and he heard Erica. The former County Sheriff heard the noise approaching, but he didn't have a single clue what it might be. Not one. Were this sound to have been heard when the origins of it were commonplace and everyday, perhaps Hank would have figured it out in quick order. Or maybe someone might have. Nope, this was an excellent time for his stalwart group of survivors to blank on something, and simultaneously to boot. He had meant what he said, about four months ago in the swamps of south Georgia: He still could not fathom how all of them were still alive.

Shaking his head, Hank bent down to pick up his backpack. The groan that issued from him was indicative that he was an onder guy yet. Sleeping on the concrete floor, while actually quite cool to touch, was not to be considered a very good thing to do all of the time. Not anymore. "Yeah, yeah... let's not get all dramatic about it. I'm going to go take a look. Maybe it's someone with a bottle of aspirin. Hell, maybe it's strippers giving away free hotdogs in the parking lot. Hmm..." Not bad. Hank would shelve that idea for a later time. For right now, he bent down again and grabbed two very important things to his survival: His shotgun and a shovel. As it happened, the older man had gotten more actual, practical use out of a shovel than he did pretty much anything else since the Outbreak. Another mental note to file away for later, but kept in a place different from the first one. When in doubt, carry a shovel.

"Hey, I'm going to go check this out. When you little girls are done kissing each other, maybe you can join me, huh?" His eyes widened as he nodded with more vigor than necessary to get his point across. "Come on, let's get this particular piece of damnit out of the way for the day. Barbie, Sportacus, you with me? Maldonado?" One guttural expression later and Hank was strolling out of the door and down the road just a piece. He stayed to one side of the road and within shouting distance, though curiosity over the familiar but still misplaced noise had definitely gotten the better of him. He really wanted to know.