The French woman named Mallory, taller of the two, raised a question that seemed largely overlooked by the rest as they laid the groundwork for the escape plan. Elijah's eyes met hers as she searched for him, and he replied silently with a nod, a small smile turning the corners of his lips upward, though hardly noticeable.

He knew time here was scarce. They were safe for the moment, but this was a security room, not a cafeteria or any such place filled with resources. They had no access to food or water, and the space was cramped enough as it is. With a lack of knowledge about people within this room, chances for animosity and tension were high, especially with the older man who seemed keen on quarantining himself away for his own safety. Sliding off the edge of the desk, he maneuvered past the others and back to where the brass plate lay. Bruised hand shaking from the damage, he slowly began to thread the attached cord around and through itself, taking care to knot it in certain areas so the weight of the plate didn't place any extra stress on the cord.

Before long, he had a makeshift flail of sorts, the extra length of the cord wrapped a couple of times around his lesser-damaged hand. Granted, it was flimsier than what he assumed a flail to be, but its construction and use would likely mitigate damage to himself. He hissed as his bruised hand throbbed, holding it close to his chest to keep it from shaking too much.

He looked up briefly at Mallory, who seemed to be watching him; for how long, he couldn't tell. He smiled a bit more, if only to lessen the seriousness of the situation.

"Name's Elijah, by the way," he said, bringing himself to his feet. "Nice to meet you. You doing alright?"

Cole Anderson

Cole had a wealth of information flood him all at once as the survivors figured out their escape plan. He listened carefully to the rest of the people and realized that the city was most likely a no go, like he had explained earlier, and he was glad that he got his point across. It's not like he wouldn't be open to the idea eventually, but right now he wanted to get to a safe and secure place to weigh their options, and find some supplies in case they were in it for the long haul. But the beach sounded like their best best, and thank god they had a map so they could plan their route.

He rubbed his stubble on his face, taking a glance over the map while Mike explained the possible areas to him. There were a few bungalows they could scout out, the marina that might give us a way out, and the lighthouse that seemed like there was some other people there. While that was tempting, he didn't necessarily trust people in the middle of an outbreak like this. What happened if they mistook them for one of the zombies and shot them on sight? What if they just killed them anyways and took their stuff? Some people have a one for all mentality, and he didn't want to have to depend on strangers for his survival.

"I like the beach, the lighthouse seems like a good idea, but I was thinking of something else..." Cole mentioned, and he pointed down to an island just off the coast of the main land. "I say we go there. I went there the other night for a party, and that seems like a safe enough place with enough supplies for now. It's just a short swim, and we could be out of eyesight and ear shot from these things. Once we set up camp we can worry about exploring some other places and seeing if help is gonna come. Lord only knows when all this is going to blow over, and I'm not gonna stay here with no food or water while this place gets even harder to get out of. Sometimes you have to take matters into your own hands."

Cole nodded softly at Mike, wanting to argue that h could come with them but sensing that there was something deeper that was keeping the security guard to this place. He respected it, and he clasped the man's shoulder firmly. "I appreciate your help, and I'll take your advice. If you're ever in trouble, you'll know where to find us. In the mean time, I will try my best to get everybody out of here alive."

He turned to the rest of the group when a bunch of questions started coming up about weapons, who was driving, and other small details. He turned to the rest of the group, addressing the questions as he rubbed his brass knuckles with his thumb. "As far as weapons go we just have to deal with whatever we have in this room. The main objective is to just get out of here, we only want to fight those things to defend ourselves if we have to. The main idea is to avoid them at all costs. Once we get to safety we can worry about arming ourselves to scavenge for supplies. As far as seating goes I'm going to take some kind of car to the island. If you are coming with me speak now, and if somebody else wants to take a car to another location that's fine as well. Once we get that settled we're leaving, sooner the better."

While the others talked, and fortunately all agreed that Moresby was a bad idea, Eliza began to poke about the office once again, looking for anything useful. Aside from the medical kit, she located a load of, what she guessed, was lost property. Mostly it was sunglasses, swim gear etc, but she did also find several backpacks which she tossed out into the main area for the others, while slinging one over her own shoulder. None of the packs were anything more than little day packs, but at least it gave them some extra carrying capacity.

More poking about lead her into what looked like the main locker room for the resort’s security staff. Most lockers, unsurprisingly, were locked but several that weren’t contained stashed emergency supplies. It wasn’t much, but enough for everyone to get a couple bottles of water and some protein bars, without totally stripping Mike of everything.

A bit more poking about got her into a utility area. Mostly it seemed to house utility panels and ladders, but in a back corner her eyes lit up as she found a bunch of pipes stacked up. About 2-3 cm in diameter, it was heavy walled, and Eliza guessed for running gas. Along side these were boxes, that when she tore one open, she found contained various fittings and connectors. Grabbing a 60 cm bit of pipe, she gathered up as much of the emergency rations as she could and went back to everyone else, smiling.

”Got some good news. There’s some emergency rations in the locker room, not a huge amount, but enough to hold us for a little while, and a load of gas piping we can use as weapons.” Off loading the rations she’d been carrying, aside from her share, she headed back to the pipes.

All the piping was threaded, so to one end she added just a simple cap, while to the other she threaded a T junction. To the arms of the T she added two 6 cm little connectors, before adding two more caps. All of these she tightened as much as she could by hand, and by the time she was done, she had a respectable little hammer. Once done she returned to the others.

Mike nodded approvingly to Cole before folding the large map. He folded it horizontally and then upward, and then horizontally once more, compressing it into a small, tight square. He handed it to Cole, saying, “Your a determined fellow, I’ll give you that, mate. Damned tough too. I trust you’ll get everyone here to safety. Including that asshole lawyer and those two French sheila’s. Shame I’m not coming really...” he mumbled the last part to himself, then reached for his belt. He slipped his 9mm from it’s holster and two full magazines as well and extended them outward to Cole. “Eighteen shots mate... eighteen shots overall to get you from here to that little island. Better use this sparingly...”

Carter spoke up for the first time in a while, stepping away from the wall where he had been slouched, ”To raise the issue of a vehicle, Mike, is there anything in that garage that could get everyone out at once? And all together? Jackie Chan over here seems to have a preference for a car.”

Mike raised his eyebrow slightly and said ,”Of course; theres’ minivans, tourist buses, pickup trucks, the lot. Oy!-“ Mike suddenly barked at Eliza ,”Save some of those rations for me, yeah?” He then stepped over to the security monitor, looking back over his shoulder to the group, “I can see maybe eight of those bastards in the garage. For now anyway, that’s sure to change though. You folks should probably get moving in the next few minutes. There’s a fire axe over there you can use, help yourself to the pipes too.”

”I’ll take this.”
Carter slipped the fire axe from inside the locker where it hung. The axe blade and shaft were solid red with a glistening steel edge at the blade. He rolled it around in his hands testing the weight. Satisfied, Carter slung it over his right shoulder and then turned to Cole ,”Look, if you wanna’ take the lead of this little evacuation fine. But here’s’ my two cents; forget a damned car, let’s take a bus or a van. A car could be swarmed and flipped over way too easy. In case you haven’t noticed some of these ghouls seem to be able to run still. Of course... a bigger heavier vehicle is slower, and easier to climb on to...”

“Your going with them, eh?” Mike asked from the monitor station ,”After you tried to lock me and half of them out you just like that think they’ll let the likes of you into their company?” he ended with a slight smirk though he kept his eyes on the monitors. Carter started to speak but his words caught in his throat as the realization hit him. His nostrils and eyes flared as he looked back and forty between Mike and the group. “And your sure as hell not staying with me.” Carter tried to speak again but once more his words failed him. Outraged he kicked the wall nearby, only for a slamming at the sealed door to cause him to jump.

There were at least eight of the undead piled against the door, pushing into each other as they clawed, slapped, and bit the plexiglass that acted as a barrier for their fleshy meals. “You folks need to go, now,” Mike said, turning in his seat ,”it’s your choice if you want to all go together. Carter, your not staying here.”

”What? But you- you can’t do that! Those things will-!”

“Shred you. Drink your blood, pluck out your eyeballs. Oh yes, but your not staying here. Neither are they. It’s up to them if they want to take you with them.”

---

June pointed accusatorily toward Carter. "Yes! I saw you, fearing. We should be leaving you behind. Mallory could have died because of you." She was visibly upset. Standing to her feet, she crossed her arms and stared daggers at the selfish American. They can't trust him.

Mallory nodded at Elijah and stood aswell, clearing her throat. "I would have died if you people hadn't helped me. Clearly, I know what it's like to panic. I don't think we should judge monsieur too harshly. We shouldn't toss him to those...sick people...because of a mistake. That would be murder, not self-defense. Hopefully," The brunette glanced over at Carter, "He and I both have learned more about ourselves today, and wish to improve. Right?"

June looked flabbergasted. "Mallory...!" Both for her defense of the selfish man, and in seemingly surprise at her verbosity.

Mallory took a shaky breathe. Her heart was beating a million miles a minute. She almost wanted to curl into a ball again. Infact, that's almost what she did. Apparently giving a speech like that was almost as terrifying as facing the monsters outside, for she slid back down the wall and hugged her legs to her chest again, though far more lucidly this time.

June recrossed her arms and looked over at Mike, seemingly having noticed something. "You are not with us coming?" She asked, concerned. He had saved their lives, after all. Were it not for him, Mallory and June would still be trapped in their hotel room.

Eliza waved a placating hand to Mike as she returned with her pipe hammer. ”Don’t worry, there’s enough stuff there for days, even if you don’t ration yourself.” Dropping to a squat over the stuff she’d brought back earlier, she began to divide the supplies equally between the packs, though as she did so she shot a quick glare at both Mike and June. ”We’re not abandoning anyone to those things, clear? Sure he’s an asshole, but we’ve all got to be better then that. The only way to make it out of this, is if we all watch each others back alright?”

Slinging a pack over he shoulders, she picked up three of the other packs and the crowbar that Carter had discarded on the floor. Heading over to the two Frenchwomen, she handed them each a pack and gave June the crowbar. ”Here, I know you’ll have to get closer if you have to use it, but it’ll hold up better then that shower rod.” She added motioning to the badly bent one she’d been using earlier, that now sat abandoned on the floor.

That done, she retrieved her hammer before heading over to Carter and handing him the third pack. Pushing it into his hands, she gave him her best ‘Don’t Fuck This Up’ glare before going and distributing the rest of the packs to everyone else. ”Alright, anyone not armed should fix that right now.” She said, looking to Cole. ”Save the 9 mm for emergencies, fuck knows if we’ll find any more ammo.”

”Mike, two questions. One, do you have any portable radios? I think we should take several if you’ve got ‘em. Two, where are the keys for the shit in the garage kept? I’d rather not have to hunt for them.”

"Dear God, you have put me in a place that is hell incarnate. People are going crazy and they eat each other. I did not attend worshipping after I started my career as a comic book writer. I know there would be many things I would have deeded more conscientiously. It's not that I ignored you. I picked up on signs, opened up the book and read some infrequently. But God, please, forgive me of my dumb acts, I wish to repent before you. Save me from this hell. Save me from dying this way."

Praying had become as usual as Friday night lights for Jim Ruthers. And, if he ever exited this death infected island, he was buying a new suit and enrolling in every religious community center he could find. He would write of his testaments to god, what he had witnessed men doing to men, how he survived with a knife. That's all he had to defend himself, a knife. But, he had found himself an empty, cold garage.

Of course he had entertained busting open a windshield and barreling his way out of hell. It wasn't smart. He thought he could getaway, but it was five hundred to him and a car. Jim shook off his impulse. He found a place to nest, in an old folded lounge chair sitting next to a vending machine. So, he purchased himself a can of Coca Cola for one dollar and one quarter and sat back. He laughed aloud when he bought the soft drink and sat down. Maybe one of the cars had a few DVDs and theater seats. It was a moment of compromise between survive and living.

Cole Anderson

Cole nodded, taking a deep breath as he took the folded up map and placed it carefully in one of the pockets of his backpack and zipping it back up. He shoved the two magazines into his pocket for easy access, before inspecting the handgun. After a quick look through and making sure the safety was on, he gave a nod to Mike before tucking the 9mm inside his leather jacket, making sure he could easily reach it and pull it out if necessary. He still had his brass knuckles slipped over his hands, so he still had something to defend himself that wasn't the gun. "Noted, I truly appreciate your kindness to us. I don't know if we'd have even a chance out of here without you. You're more than welcome to join us, but I respect your decision. But I will try to make sure your kindness was not done in vain."

The MMA fighter turned towards Carter, who started perking up suddenly as he gave the question about vehicles. After checking the security camera there did seem to be a numerous amount of cars of varying size and kinds. He looked over a few more of them in closer detail before turning to Carter to speak. It seemed that he was openly weighing the pros and cons of each type of vehicle, but Cole had already made up his mind. "If you want to try to drive a bus or van through this shit hole, be my guest. A car is going to be faster than those things regardless, and there's probably a lot of abandoned cars and debris in the way. I want something small and quick enough to try to avoid those things, and the zombies. One of those large vehicles would be a tank for sure, but hard to maneuver and easy to get stuck. There's no harm in taking multiple vehicles, especially if people want to go to different destinations after we head out. Peronally? I'm going to the island. And..."

Cole moved closer to the monitors, taking a closer look. If he could get his hands on a motorcycle he would be set. Quick, small, able to off road and get through tight spaces, and perfectly fast enough to outrun any of those things. It offered little for protection or storage, but he would much rather try to avoid the issues than ram straight through them. Sometimes you needed to travel light in these kinds of situations, and besides, he was not a stranger to riding a motorcycle. "I have my eyes on a motorcycle, and I can hold one passenger. I can lead the rest of us out of here, but it's up to the rest of you to find your own vehicle and decide where you want to go. I promise I'll do everything I can to keep you all safe once we get to the garage and get out, but out there on the road that's between you and God."

Eliza brought up some good points, while the french women both had their concerns for carter joining their group. As much a he saw the man as a liability, he couldn't just leave somebody out to die. "We are not leaving Carter out to die. Yes, he almost got some of you killed, and that will not be tolerated. But if we let him out to die with those things, we would be no better. If we're going to survive this things is has to be us versus them, not every man for themselves.

Clearing his throat, he stood in front of the sealed door where the undead waited for him, stretching his shoulder and cracking his neck as he stared down the zombie trying to crawl its way in. "Alright. Gear up, grab a weapon, and get ready to move out. It's now or never, and we're leaving now. Stick together and move quick. The sooner we get out of this hell hole, the better."

Charlotte quirked a brow at the mention of a motorcycle. Just about the only positive factor about riding on one was its speed, which would be helpful given the circumstances. But then again, that one memory buried in the back of her mind scared her into the belief that it wasn't such a great idea, nowhere near what Cole made it out to be.

She was 24 and roughly halfway through graduate school. Her boyfriend at the time, Mitchell, was giving her a ride to a friend's relative's dinner party on his new bike before he had to go to work. It was 9 or so in the evening and quite chilly, the couple both wearing leather jackets and matching helmets for safety. But even with the precautionary gear the couple had donned, they both sustained injuries when Mitchell took a sharp turn a little too fast, his recklessness sending them stumbling on a more secluded road in the Paramus area. Mitchell caught some blunt trauma when he collided against a tree after the fall, and Charlotte had some bruising and minor road rash on her hands. After the incident, they were both taken to the hospital and recovered relatively quickly, although it took some time for Mitchell to eventually start riding again; not because he had hurt himself, but because he had hurt Charlotte as well. She was even more apprehensive after the fact given that the incident had been out of her control. She trusted Mitchell, but only rode with him one more time before their break up a year or so later.

The decision weighed back and forth in her mind and kept her silent for some time. It was true that she only rode one more time after the accident, but now that this emergency had developed, she should at the very least reconsider.

"All right, I'll go with you," Charlotte spoke up enough for Cole and some of the others in the room to hear her. She hoped that later on she wouldn't come to regret her decision.