[IC] No Hope

[TomeBinder]

The Washington-Lee Gymnasium

The Washington-Lee High School had been a Fema evacuation point. When? Is not apparantly obvious, but the place looks pristine, so it could not have been long before the government pulled out of it. A few barren plastic tables and chairs are scattered throughout the gym's vast expanse, and a few clutters paper lay about the place. Upon further inspection, they appear to be various forms asking for an evacuee's credentials - although one of them catches the group's eye over the others.

Written hastily in black marker on the back of one of the forms, is the following:

NOT SAFE. DEAD INSIDE. MOVED TO EASTON. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO JOURNEY THERE ALONE.

Well that's helpful. It was probably written in the opening days, when everyone was confident the National Guard would be more than enough to restore order. How wrong they were, and how wrong you were.

The gym is enclosed on three sides by a solid brick wall, save for a fire door that leads out onto the green. You came in that way, barring it with a chair leg upon your entry. A few shamblers had spotted you flee the bus, and whilst the gun shots drew most of them away, you know a few stragglers are still heading for the school.

As if to high light this point, the barred doors shudder as bloody palms start slamming against them from the other side. You all look down at the deceased man, and wonder if you'll share his fate.

A murmur breaks out from a side-cupboard, just off past the left bank of benches. It is a sound you know all too well, for you heard no intelligible words, just a muffled groan. There is the sound of something rolling along the polished floor, and everyone looks in the direction of the noise. A basket ball, stained with bloody hand prints, is making its way from the side-cupboard and comes to a standstill. Then you hear the disorganised footsteps of a shambler - no, shamblers.

Sure enough, the first monstrosity to emerge from the cupboard is - was - a boy of 14 years. He's dressed in his school's attire, and missing his right arm below the elbow. Gore coats his face. Dead, white eyes fix the group with that souless, manic stare that is so common in shamblers.

Then another shambler appears. A fat old woman stuffed into a business suit, emerges from the cupboard. Aside from her crippling weight, she appears in better shape. Her gait is unnatural, there is no woddle as you would expect from a living person, but a purposeful march. Arms out stretched, she moans at your group hungrily.

The third shambler is a younger man, wearing a similar suit. You identify the intact FEMA badge on his chest immediately - so not everyone made it out in an orderly manner. His stomach has been gorged open, and his entrails hang from him like a sickly rope. Every few steps he trips on them, falling to the floor, only to crawl back to his feet in a gangling manner.

The trio approach the group slowly, but with the primitive determination of the dead.

The group could run past them - the doors granting access to the rest of the school lay behind, and up two flights of stairs to the far left and right. However, would they want three of the dead following in their wake?

[DJAtomika]

"This is some grim shite we've gotten ourselves into."

Hopefully that was soft enough. Little Sophia shouldn't hear that sorta language.

Oh, aye, this was some grim shite indeed. Not a bloody month and the place was already turnin' into a wreck. These...bastards, or what have you, makin' the city their bleedin' paradise. Hell on Earth, more likely. There I was, fixing up some fella's car, when all of a sudden Matty bursts through my shop door, blood streamin' out of his shoulder, cursin' 'n swearin' like a sailor. I only managed to get him off the floor and onto a chair, and all the while he's blabberin' about some weird thing that's been makin' the rounds around the city, and he got bit by something that just wasn't human no more. I called an ambulance, sure, aye, but it didn't even make it here before he collapsed. The blood was streamin' out of his shoulder like a fountain, his face'd gone pale and I swore he bloody died on me, but when the ambulance finally arrived and carted him off, a paramedic told me he was alright, barely there, but alright. They left in a godawful hurry, and I was left to clean up the bloodstains on my floor.

Looking back on it, I think he must've been one of the reasons why this whole shitestorm went down. Why this gobshite at my feet eventually ate a bullet, or several. Why Jason died. Why Terry died.

Why everyone was dropping like flies.

But why was he here, in this sodding, godawful place?

And, more importantly, was this place safe?

The footsteps and moaning that came from me right answered that question for me. First thing that caught my eye was how young the first of those...things was. The poor sod was barely of age, must've been preparing for some class or other when the infections were just starting. I can't imagine the hell he must've gone through before he went, screaming and wailing and begging for his mommy or daddy or whoever. Maybe even God. Who knows, maybe God was dead and couldn't hear our pleas. Whatever the case, the boy wasn't a boy no more, he was...a sodding monster, that's what he was now. The same with the other two sods behind him. Disgusting, filthy things. Made me sick. Sick to me stomach.

Whatever. They all had to fockin' die. Again.

I readied my bat and backed off a few steps. No sense in charging right in and gettin' meself killed. That's stupid, and in the world right now, I couldn't afford to be stupid.

"Fellas? We have a problem."

What was I saying? These fellas had all been through the same hell at the airport. Saw innocents being gunned down, exterminated like vermin in the sewers. Saw men, women, even children, with bullets through them. It was difficult enough to find transport, harder still for me to get the bloody thing working while, all around me, the god damn Holocaust was reenacting itself. So I drove this motley band of sods out of hell, then not a week later we were here, having braved all sorts of depraved shite that no sane man should face. Here we were. The chosen few? Maybe. I cleared my thoughts while raising my bat, eyeing over which of the three lucky gobshites should be re-dead first. Then me brain decided that maybe we weren't having any fun today, so I proffered another tidbit of absolute wisdom to add on to my earlier epiphany.

"A wee problem."

With the first sod already nearing our group, I took a few steps forward, wound up and swung like me life depended on it, which it did. The poor boy's head splattered apart and spread itself all over the floor. Another one put back in the ground.

What a waste of life. Jesus-bleedin'-Christ.

I backpedaled a few steps and tapped my bat on the floor. Wasn't that what these American baseball players did when they were playin'? No way for me to find out now though, probably half the national teams already dead, or worse. Had to concentrate. Otherwise I could end up like the poor sod I just laid out.

[Darcs]

NOT SAFE. DEAD INSIDE. MOVED TO EASTON. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO JOURNEY THERE ALONE.

Sylvia sighed.

Despite the unnerving things she had been subjected to seeing, and indeed dealing with during the past week-- and at a greater length, the past month, it was still little notes like this that disturbed her the most. Staring into the curdled milk that became the eyes of those afflicted was... unnerving, at first. But now, she merely saw them as unfortunate threats. They didn't quite cause the same trauma in her that seeing their notes did.

They were permanent reminders that an anonymous survivor, in context no different than herself, was here, perhaps even still alive. They emanated a certain humanity, an existential testament that someone had been alive, that someone had been trying... even if it was a suicide note. They carried in their scrawled letters, a tragic optimism.

The shamblers, those who had their humanity utterly corrupted by some... virus? Sickness? Parasite? Whatever it was... they were certainly tragic to see. They had their mind extinguished and they were robbed of life and humanity, while their corrupted shell had only the goal to continue the bloodshed. To Sylvia, at least, that exuded tragedy, but their sickly growls didn't carry that same... hope... that a note sans author may exude.

A sickness can be hoped to be cured, and Sylvia certainly hoped there would be one. She hoped dearly some doctor somewhere was already synthesizing the needed anti-biotic or antidote...

But after a month of running, she felt that hope secondary in relation to her own desire to survive when she was confronted with rotting forms.

From further in the school, three of the sick could be heard walking, making their presence know from behind a cupboard. Sylvia readied her screwdriver, an odd weapon that had proven effective at planned shambler clearing. She just needed to think, as she'd always done.

3 were simple for the group. The people she'd been traveling with for the past week had proven themselves more than capable. Sylvia began to take slow steps back, calculating a plan of action. The child would by far be the easiest, especially without that arm--

Aaaand Angie got that one

Okay, that left the two. The man was tall, but he seemed to have trouble standing up. Sylvia could take advantage of that. The other one, closer than the male, seemed to to pose the biggest threat, with girth like that, fighting up close was dangerous, if it fell on top of you, it'd pretty much be all over.

"Good job," Sylvia quipped to Angie, sarcastic morbidity filled her voice as she smirked, "You've beheaded a small, decomposing, one-armed child."

"Will!" The sarcasm dissipated as she yelled to the younger, bespectacled man, "Can you try to goad that fat one away, towards the benches?" She turned again to Angie, "Back Will? I'm going to try and get the man when he slips."

Brandishing her screwdriver, she cast something resembling a sympathetic glance to Sophia, "Stay put, sweetie." Before moving closer to the shell of the man who, apparently, once worked for FEMA.

As she approached him, he started following her, instead of going in the general direction of the group. She backtracked a bit, heading for the benches opposite where she'd directed William. Her arm was raised with her screwdriver clenched in hand, waiting for the shambler to slip on it's own entrails, giving her the perfect opportunity to drive her tool through it's skull.

[TomeBinder]

The group is alerted by a sudden snapping noise, followed quickly by the screech of rusted hinges.

The chair leg securing the gym's fire door has given way under the force of multiplying blows. The dead surge in, first three, then four, then six. They fall over each other in their scramble to reach the living, hissing and moaning their terrible melody.

Unfortunately, many of the group were standing nearby - distracted as they were by the three shamblers who had moved out of the side cupboard. One of the dead attempts to grab a fear-paralysed Sophia, but James tackles it to the ground and begins beating its head in with his gloved fists. Another shambler comes from his blind side, and tackles him in turn.

Before the group can move to help him, he screams out as several pairs of teeth start tearing him apart. They know there is nothing to be done.

The fire doors are open, and the dead are pouring in slowly but steadily. There's not many of them, perhaps twelve in total, but even this may be too much for them to handle.

Is it time to stand their grown and fight? Or will they flee into the school, hoping to lose the dead in the maze of classrooms and corridors?

[AiyvaGuard]

< Ali >

Had been near sophia for the whole time, quiet. She was distraught and traumitized, feeling as if she could die by her such cowardness, though with the group she felt much safer and seemed to have a need to stay by Sophia, seemingly her Sunbae (Senior). " W-....oh my god... " She stutters as she walks by the mangled bodie, it was total silence until Sylvia spoke, Sylvia seemed to know where to go. Ali was afraid, so afraid that she needed a child beside her at all times, though not in total fear that she would use her as a shield, but just a brave support for her when these walkers are near.

Ali didn't know much english, and if she did speak english she'd sound so broken and dumb, so she was shameful if she was to speak. Her fighting abilities were weak, though she was capable of killing atleast four walkers if they were far. She had a useful pistol with only 10x bullets, seemed to be enough and if she were to lose all her bullets she can use her arrows as a ranged and melee attack-mechanisim.

Ali was paranoid, paranoid enough that she'd plan a whole strategy to follow if their was a certain amount of zombies, she planned attacks by twos, she only reached 12 until she heard a snapping noise and a very loud screach near the corridors of the groups vicinity. She screamed as a walker suddenly attempted to grab Sophia, grabbing her arm to push her back towards her and Sophias Sunabe suddenly dived in attacking the walker.

She grabbed out her pistol from the side of her hip in which was carried by her belt, tightening her grip on Sophia's arm and running towardds Sylvia to gain her aid, though if Sophia didn't respond to her pull she'd simply let go and yell, "COME ON SOPHIA!" She would say in broken english.

Ali would bump into Sylvia, tumbling down onto the ground as she stand back up quickly. Pointing her pistol towards the horde, pulling the trigger as the force would hurt her wrists for the few times she shoot, though she was in a state of panic that she couldn't even feel the pain, and seemingly wasting 7 bullets as she'd realized she killed atleast three zombies, awfully reducing the size of the horde, though she'd wasted most of her bullets. Her minds system was too abstract for her to even read and so she'd just wing it.

(Wil revise)

[TomeBinder]

Ali Ni Yuyn's gunshots reverberate around the school, echoing across empty classrooms and corridors. Indeed, their echo carries on outside for some distance. The dead who had been drawn away from the school by the earlier sniper, who took pot shots at the group's bus, have started to make their way back towards the survivors. Scores of them, maybe even a hundred. They're still a distance away though, and there may be time yet to get that fire door locked down.

Meanwhile, the three shamblers she gunned down has brought the survivors a few vital seconds to organise their defence - or retreat.

Though the dead are not the only ones who have been drawn by the gunfire. An emotionally unsettled (who isn't in these days?) U.S Marine had been driven into the school just minutes ago. On his way in, he spotted the group's bus, and after hearing their gunshots, he now knows he's not alone.

Making his way down the network of corridors, Alex Ibanez followed the sounds of commotion, until they brought him to the top of a flight of stairs overlooking the gymnasium.

He quickly identifies two slain shamblers at the front of the group, with the third stumbling towards a woman. The rest of the group seem to be busy backing away from the wave of shamblers surging in through a busted fire exit.

Taking the safety off of his Glock, he formulates his response to the situation. Help them? Or flee? Are they friendly? Or are they likely to kill him the moment they notice his presence?

[Demonx]

A bead of sweat slowly dripped down the side of Alex's face as that all too familiar rush of fear and excitement flooded his system. The pure adrenaline that only came from your life being endangered. He had in front of him about 9 shambelers, as well as one man down who'd be turning very shortly. Alex cursed under his breath. These idiots had drawn a lot of unwanted attention into a room with very limited exits. He had 3 options;

1: Leave them and go back the way he came. He could easily slip out unnoticed, but to do so would leave these people to their doom. No.
2: Engage the zombies. Doing so would draw them to him, but in doing so, trapping himself and attracting more zombies. No.
3: Get the people's attention, getting them to follow him down the route he had just come and attempt to lose the zombies.

Alex grimaced. All of the plans were horrendous, but every second he spent deliberating was a second wasted. He had to save these people. He aimed his glock at the zombie closing in on the woman, before clocking what she was doing. She seemed to be luring the zombie in... As the thought processed, the zombie slipped and with remarkable speed, the woman drove something into the base of the creature's skull and with a quiver, it lay still. Applying the safety to his glock, he decided what he'd do. It'd probably be the worst decision he'd ever made, but he had to save these people without drawing in anymore zombies with gunfire. Taking a deep breath in, he yelled to the group.

"HEY! UP HERE! THIS WAY!"

[DJAtomika]

"Oh aye! Great move, ya wanker! Now everyone bloody knows we're here!"

Great! I thought we'd established that rule of 'no guns except in emergencies' by now! How much worse could it possibly ge-

"HEY! UP HERE! THIS WAY!"

I saw the military-looking gobshite at the top of the stairs, holding another gun, and I wondered how much luck we were going to have. In the span of a few seconds, we'd lost another man to the shamblers and that other wee lass damn near doomed us all! This was turning out to be a really shite day, Jesus Christ. I saw the small gang of sods clustered around what used to be James, now a meal for those hungry fuckers. Why did they need to eat anyway? They were already dead to begin with, what sort of bloody digestive system worked in a corpse?! Aye, whatever, we were gonna die unless we did something.

Unless someone did something.

And since everyone else was standin' around like several blobs of jell-o with thumbs up their proverbial arses (save Sylvia she'd taken out another one, clever gal), I guess I needed to spur everyone else into action.

"Alright gang, I think we have two options right now. Either we stay here and become munchies for the bloody shamblers, or we follow that man and his gun and hopefully get to someplace safer. And judging from how colossally focked we are if we stay here, I suggest we get to him and get to safety!"

I took a glance at the stairwell. Between us, that man and safety were roughly seven of the sodding things, obviously not counting the two kills we had among us at the moment. These bastards were slow on the uptake, and thankfully they already had a hearty meal distracting them from coming after us. That was our chance. I advanced forward, bat at the ready, and skirted right round the group of shamblers, keeping my distance so none a' the sods could suddenly stand up and grab me by the hair or somethin', curse me own luck. I could already hear the groaning and moaning of more of the things outside. Those gunshots had attracted more a' the bloody things, Jesus-bleedin'-Christ, wouldn't it be nice. I couldn't say how many there were outside the school, but when we were running scared and away from those gunshots earlier, I counted a whole lot. Now the bastards were closing in on the school and if the rest of our motley crew didn't haul arse right now we were gonna be in for a lot more trouble than just gettin' our hands dirty.

The only thing I hadn't counted on: that the gobshite shouting was loud enough to attract their attention as well. Slowly but surely I saw one, then two, then three heads peer up from the frenzied munching to gaze at the military man. Then they rose and began their slow shamble towards him and, by extension, the lone Irish idiot that was trying to avoid them in the first place, which was me! The three lone bastards, aye they were rank and they were bloody disgusting to look at, but they were people once. The one that was approaching me the quickest was a young lass, couldn't be more than ten when she went, the poor thing. Just like that young boy I had to put down earlier. Her jaws were working together gently, even though her lower hung from one corner of her skull, the other rent from its housing by the thing that did her in, probably. Behind her there shambled a young man, looking like your bog standard shambler, and right next to him was an older man in a suit. I noticed the shiny Rolex on his wrist as I backed away, bat up and ready. Oh, aye, rich bastard he must've been to afford that piece a shite. Useless, utterly useless.

And what was also utterly useless was staying here to fight. Any minute now those things could burst in from the door we bloody came through. Quickly now, Angie, a plan, you need one.

Reluctantly, I took out the lead pipe from my tool belt and looked for an empty spot away from the others. A corner of the gym caught me eye, clear and conveniently littered with some fallen chairs. I took aim and then gave a great big heave. The pipe arced right over and clattered into the mess.

Now this was a gamble. If these shambling sods worked anything like the zombie movies I'd seen before, sound was enough to distract them. They were slow, strong yes, but also very dumb. My pipe making that huge racket over there should draw enough attention away from us so that we could escape. I hoped.

This was a gamble, after all.

Luck o' the Irish don't fail me now.

[whiteprophet]

Sophia and Doris

"Sophia, the gun," Doris said, reserving her tears for tonight's prayers. There were so many to spill tears for and so few tears left. But she still had the little girl and she was worth pushing on for. They didn't have time for grief, they only had time to get out of here. Out of this stupid school Doris didn't even want to come into in the first place. But she was old and no one listened to her but the girl.

The gun in question had slid out of James' hand and across the floor, clear of the horde chomping on his body. Sophia took off the second Doris said it, unquestioning that she could make it and that it was the right thing to do. Doris saw things Sophia couldn't and the second she spoke the frozen little girl was gone and action replaced her.

She scooped up the gun lightly and held it the way James had shown her. Without fear of it, 'because that's what will kill you.'

"HEY! UP HERE! THIS WAY!"

Sophia passed the gun to Doris and then reached for her hand. It had become a comfortable reaction to danger, holding the retired teacher's hand. It seemed to provide comfort for both parties if truth be told. And together they were moving toward the shouting stranger before Angie could voice the command to do it. Some of the others needed her direction the way Sophia needed Doris.

The stairs would prove difficult for Doris, not because of her mobility but because of her heart. If she pushed it too far, too fast, she would become a ticking time bomb. Sophia pulled Doris as much as she climbed the stairs herself. They would make it. They had to.

[Darcs]

With a grunt, Sylvia pulled her screwdriver out of the downed shambler's skull.

Still kneeling, she fished her revolver from her bag as she assessed the situation. She wasn't surprised by this-- day in and day out, situations in the past few weeks had proven that they have this awful habit of escalating rather quickly. James screamed in his death throes to further drive this point home.

Cómo altas apuestas...

Hell, her entire life had been this way! Really, the difference now being that a month and a half ago, the high octane situation would have been spilling coffee on her blouse in a cab or something, and needing to somehow get changed for some meeting or hearing that began in 20 minutes. Whereas now she was watching people she'd only known a few days get torn aprt while scared teenagers fired guns. The use of adrenal glands and fast thinking were similar!

It was just now the stakes were life and death, for herself and others, as opposed to merely losing a job. The anarchist within her made a quip about capitalist scum, and how operating in that system, losing a job is comparable to death.

The hoard continued advancing.

"Maldito Cristo..." She muttered, standing over the now re-killed corpse. She had hoped they could avoid crowds by coming in here-- She didn't blame Ali for what she did, from where she was standing it looked like she had fired with the intent of protecting Sophia, still though-- crowds always made things more complicated.

"HEY! UP HERE! THIS WAY!" A voice screamed from above, in a sense, answering the prayers that forced their way into Sylvia's thoughts. They may have been exposing themselves to another hostile party. But immediate survival meant following any out that presented itself from the increasingly bleak situation.

And this was an out.

"Alright gang, I think we have two options right now. Either we stay here and become munchies for the bloody shamblers, or we follow that man and his gun and hopefully get to someplace safer. And judging from how colossally focked we are if we stay here, I suggest we get to him and get to safety!" It seemed that Angie agreed with that line of thinking!

Sylvia's eyes shifted fro the industrious Irish grease monkey to the children, Sophia... and to a lesser degree, Ali. It appeared that Doris had managed to recover James' gun-- they were making their way to the stairwell, through the crowd. Other members of the group followed, help provided from Angie due to her distraction. Drawing the shamblers toward her in an incredibly risky gamble.

Sylvia ran toward the stairca--

No.

She turned slightly, James's body still being eaten by a few straglers. She couldn't put him out of his misery... but she could prevent him from coming back.

Didn't she owe him that? She'd left her life i his hands several times in the past week.

She raised her revolver, aiming at his head. She could make the shot easily.

...

A tired sigh escaped Sylvia's lips.

No...

She was hesitating. That could mean death... and further, those few still feasting on his body would come after her, and the group. Undoing Angie's gambit... Putting everyone, herself most of all, in danger... all because of some invented moral responsibility.

A few of the shamblers might even go back to eating Jame's deceased body.

She lowered her gun, promptly turned, and sprinted towards he staircase and the voice. She'd lingered behind the group a bit, but her speed more than caught her up to them, coming face to face with their savior, a handsome, younger man, at the top of the stairs.

"I don't suppose you have some way to barricade any of these doors really fast, do you?" Sylvia said to the man, a dry laugh following.

[TomeBinder]

Sophia, Dorris, Angie and Sylvia make it safely up the stairs, escaping the deteriorating situation of the gym. But not all of the group are as quick to act, or are as resilient-minded as them.

Ali Ni Yuyn screams out, a shambler latching onto her shoulder with its jaws. She had frozen after firing the first barrage of bullets - a common, but fatal error committed by so many people in these darkened days. One could not blame her though, no indeed, for the walking dead conjured the kind of horror in someone's mind that can only be rivalled by the most traumatic of experiences. The human mind is complex; a giant computer wired up to hundreds of switches. Each of them serving a different purpose. Unfortunately for Ali, her survival switch got flicked off.

The pain spreading through her shoulder like a thousand shards of glass, Ali snaps out of her panic-induced reverie, stuffs her pistol into the shambler's mouth, and pulls the trigger. Skull fragments and brain tissue drape her, and she howls in sheer terror. Another shambler stumbles towards her, and her trembling arms fire off the last of her bullets. The shambler shudders with each impact, but none of them are fatal, and then it lunges at her.

She attempts to flee, but a greasy hand wraps around her hair and pulls back with a force not befitting any living man. Before she can free herself from the iron-clad grip of the dead, more hands grab her, and she is hauled to the floor screaming.

Doc Richardson meanwhile has broken under the pressure, just like Ali. He had kept total silence since the group's arrival at the school, and had been rambling quietly to himself - though no one noticed, due to the dire situation they were in. Deciding that enough is enough, and that no world where the walking dead rule the day is worth living in, he lowers his rifle at the waist and begins firing.

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

The M1 Garand is a powerful, yet antiquated firearm. Still, shamblers fall left and right to the Doctor's onslaught - though few of them remain down, and for a brief moment it seems he may drive them back from the fire exit. Indeed, the group do not immediately realise his true intentions are far from self-preservation.

BOOM. BOOM. PING.

The rifle runs dry, and the Doctor loses himself in a warped sense of euphoria. He grabs the barrel of his gun, and swings it like a club. Again, and again he knocks down his opponents, but eventually, one catches his leg and drags him down. The others soon bundle him.

The gymnasium becomes the scene of an unholy feast, and for now, the horde is happily pulling apart their latest victims.

[Demonx]

Alex - Gym Hall

The situation was ... fuck if Alex knew. It was downright fucked up. Out of the frying pan and into the... hungering jaws of the undead? In this particular situation, the former seemed the more pleasant. It seemed the woman who had fired the shots had frozen, before being dragged down kicking and screaming. The other casualty, the man dressed in what Alex recognized as the uniform of a military doctor, had seemed to enter some sort of blood lust, killing several shambelers before they eventually brought him down.
Alex was no stranger to death. He'd seen people die before, but never like this. It was one thing seeing someone get limbs blown off by an IED, but it was a whole new nightmare when they were being ripped off by former people. Former friends and family... It made him sick. Would there ever be more to his life than suffering and death?

He was torn from his reverie as the 4 remaining survivors of the group rushed to him. A staggeringly tall white woman, an also impressively tall Hispanic woman, a young girl and an elderly lady. They made quite a group and if not for the circumstances, probably would have been considered amusing!

"I don't suppose you have some way to barricade any of these doors really fast, do you?"

The question came from the Hispanic lady, a hopeless chuckle following. This was where Alex worked best. Despite being emotionally unstable, everything he had been through had given him the ability to keep his cool and think clearly even in the most intense situations.

Alex glanced around. The walkers were more than content with their newest spoils and had almost seemed to have lost interest in the survivors. That was good. That gave them time. The door he had burst through could be easily barricaded from the other side, but with what? Just as he was about to suggest fleeing, a glaringly obvious fact sprung into his head. They were in a gymnasium. There was an abundance of light, wooden benches used for gymnastics scattered around. They could grab a couple, take them through the door before closing it and jam it from the other side. Bingo.

Alex turned back to the group, a concise and militant tone entered his voice.

"Guys, those casualties have bought us time. We can grab a couple of those wooden benches, take them through the door and block it from the other side. If there are no issues with that, it'll be me and you grabbing the benches." Alex nodded at the Tall white girl. Although both of the middle aged women seemed fit, he'd chosen the white girl on a few characteristics he'd picked up on a quick observation. Her giant, lean physique and seemingly stained hands boasted physical strength, whilst the sneering, yet determined look on her face told Alex she wouldn't back down from a challenge.

He'd ideally would have wanted 2 people to go along with himself and the woman as guards, but looking back at the 3 remaining, it seemed the ideal wasn't an option. He doubted they'd have time to make two trips before the walkers clocked onto them. One of them would have to go alone.

The Hispanic woman seemed capable, yet the other two, he wasn't sure. The elderly woman looked as if she were on her last legs. The young girl looked as though she'd been through just as many nightmares as he had. Maybe more. Yet she was just a child. They had a gun between them, but would they be efficient with it? Would he trust his life to them? Scowling inwardly, he realized he didn't have a choice. They had entrusted their lives to him and he in turn, would have to do the same.

Alex motioned to the Hispanic woman "You'll go with Blondie and guard her." He then turned to the other two, "You two will cover me from here." He took a brief moment to let it sink in before addressing the group again.

"We need to be quick. Let's do this right and get out alive. Any questions?"

[DJAtomika]

Angela - Gym Hall

"Guys, those casualties have bought us time. We can grab a couple of those wooden benches, take them through the door and block it from the other side. If there are no issues with that, it'll be me and you grabbing the benches."

Well, better idea anyway. He was the army guy, me? I'm just a gear head.

"We need to be quick. Let's do this right and get out alive. Any questions?"

"Aye, questions, but I'm savin' them for later, sir, so why not we get to it before those sods come get us for their second course?"

I partially unzipped my backpack and shoved my bat in, grip first, closing the pack back up around it to stop it from jiggling or falling out. Behind me, well, I didn't really want to think about what was behind us, more meals perhaps, but nothing more could be done now. Instead I looked around the area for the wooden benches Army Man mentioned, singling them out in a closet nearby, actually the same closet the original three sods were in, I realised. But noise attracted these things, so I knew we had to be extremely quiet about it. I turned back to the Army Guy and pointed out the closet.

"Right there, our benches. But we need to absolutely silent about it, mate, else we drop something. We don't want any dinner bells ringing now do we?"

I took the lead, had to now that we had less than half our original group left. I knew the Army Guy would be a better leader, but right now we had to work together. I barely knew the guy, didn't even know if he'd last past the 'cannon fodder' status that had our previous two new additions firmly in its grip. Aye, I could reminisce about them later, for now, we needed to get those benches. I advanced towards the closet, trying not to be slow, but then again doing the tippy toe past shamblers didn't exactly lend anything towards speed. Thankfully the sods were more interested in eating than anything else, so the short trip to the storage closet was uneventful; just the way I liked it. Inside the little room, the stench of decay was unnervingly powerful, and I saw why: there was a body on the floor, dead obviously, with flies buzzing in a dark halo around its face and torso. I saw signs of the shamblers on the corpse, what with its chest ripped wide open, an arm knawed off at the elbow and blood in a large, dark pool around it. It was deader than dead, though, or at least I thought so. I gave it a wide berth as I sneaked further into the storage closet. The place was filled to the ceiling with various gym supplies; cages full of basketballs, colourful sashes, wooden balance beams and pommel horses, but more importantly the benches that me and Army Man were after. They were stacked to one side, neat little columns that seemed out of place in the chaos. I reached up and gently hefted one off of the top of a stack and found it surprisingly light, although it was still bulky enough to make carrying it a two-handed job at the very most. I lowered it slowly and then brought it to the door, setting it down there for the Army Guy to take, before returning to the stack. I did so roughly three times more in succession, not really bothering to look at whether the dude was taking any of them, until I had five benches laid out on the floor. With one in my arms, I made my way back to the stairwell and laid it there.

One down.

Five more to go.

[whiteprophet]

Sophia and Doris

Doris found a wall to lean on, the gun heavy in her hand, while Sophia held the door for the stranger and younger women to move benches through. She watched Doris from the small distance between them and wondered if today was a day she had taken her medicine or skipped it so it would last longer.

"Where are we going next?" Sophia asked the stranger while he began dragging benches that might save their life. "Doris needs a head start."

[Darcs]

Once the unwilling sacrifice of Ali and the good doctor secured the newly formed group a few seconds reprise, the man responded to Sylvia's query. Benches! Benches seemed to be the best solution to their immediate need for protection-- a properly placed pile could ensure their safety from the feasting group of shamblers in the gymnasium. Of course, he added, that would mean they'd need to actually to gather and place the benches, in close proximity to those crowded infected, and for that, he and Angie would need protection.

Sylvia knew she was up to the task, and indeed, as the Irishwoman, 'Blondie,' set to work, Sylvia had her trusty revolver aimed at any heads that might prove troublesome to her safety. She lived in Chicago before the outbreak-- the gun was practically an extension of her body to her, and it's use the past week had even begun to rekindle that insurgent skill she had possessed in her youth. She occasionally needed to remind herself of the dangers of becoming overconfident. She knew how to use the weapon, sure, but that didn't guarantee survival here. She was protecting Angie, she needed to focus on that...

"Where are we going next?" Sophia, the youngest survivor, practically whispered from the door, "Doris needs a head start."

"Where are we..." Sylvia began, processing how tired Doris must have been, "Doris, this'll take a minute; why don't you catch your breath?" Forcing a smile, Sylvia cast her glance to Sophia for a second, "Keep an eye on the man for her, alright? If it looks unsafe, just tell Doris, so she can shot it away..."

Turned her vigilance back to Angie, casting sidelong glances to the man, Sylvia mused to herself, "Oremos que no será necesaria..."

[TomeBinder]

The feeding frenzy continues as the group transfer the gymnastic benches from the cupboard. However, more shamblers continue to pour into the gym from outside, and there are now around 40 of them.

But not all of the new comers seem happy to fight for a space at the table. Two badly decayed females, probably made victims in the early days of the crisis, peer across at the group. It takes them a microsecond to realise the group is very much alive, and the two shamblers are taken by an unfathomable urge to consume.

At once, they march forwards, stumbling over the crouched forms of their feasting comrades. Their arms reach up longingly, and their blue, crusted lips let forth a pair of soul-retching moans. Their eyes fix Angie as she passes another bench out from the cupboard, and they shamble towards her.

Meanwhile, the bodies of the group's dearly deceased have almost been entirely consumed, from skin to bone. The dead break their teeth on the harder parts, and their meal starts to protrude from any abdomen wounds they have. It is a grizzly sight, but unless they are disturbed, they will continue until there is nothing left.

[whiteprophet]

Sophia and Doris

Sophia shakes her hands nervously seeing the two dead women breaking from the pack. She doesn't want to sound an alarm, in fear of alerting more to their position, but also needs to convey that time is running out. She squirmed at the door, still holding it open, waiting for one of the adults to pay her any attention.

Meanwhile, Doris breaths deeply at the wall, collecting herself for the next move they would need to make. She looks ahead into the rest of the school and tries to get an idea what they might find further inside. Is there a lot of blood on the floor and walls? Messages warning of danger inside? Maybe they could find a classroom they could lock themselves in for a couple hours of needed sleep. But then with the horde of them in the gym below, it might be better to just leave. This place would never be safe for them.

"We need to go. Get back to the bus and get out of here," she says to the air. Only Sophia can hear her tired words. "We never should have come here."

[Demonx]

Alex - Gym Hall

The benches -as Blondie had pointed out- were in a nearby closet. Which, in itself, wasn't the problem. The nearby living corpses chomping on the recently deceased, however, were. Although being as engrossed as they were, didn't present much of an issue. Yet that wouldn't affect his concentration. The main rule of any situation, combat or no, is to never get complacent. Complacency means death.

He watched as Blondie quickly packed her bat away into her bag. If he was honest, he'd been impressed by not only her so far, but the entire group. Some people (Mainly civilians) don't like being ordered around and could be defiant, even in the face of death. Yet this unlikely group had listened and had so far reacted well.

"Right there, our benches. But we need to absolutely silent about it, mate, else we drop something. We don't want any dinner bells ringing now do we?"

He nodded back at her, happy she was on the same train of thought. With that, she set off for the closet. Alex quickly patted down his webbing so make sure it was all done up, then quickly set after her.

Having set off a few seconds after her, Alex's eyes widened in shock as he quickly spotted the two barely held together corpses bumbling towards Angie as she set the benches down.

Before he could yell a warning and presumably kill them all, Alex's training subconsciously kicked in. He moved across the hall as if a ghost, boots barely making a noise as each step landed. He snuck up behind the first woman, lagging slightly behind the second. Placing one hand on her chin, and the other on her forehead, he sharply yanked her head to the side. Alex almost yelped in surprise as it's head came clean off. The stench of death and decay seeping from the gaping hole almost overwhelmed him at such a proximity and it took all his self control not to puke as he dropped the severed head. Having been momentarily thrown off, he had been unable to grab the corpse and lower it to the floor. Luckily, the remains had slumped to the floor, making little noise.

Nearly, but not having quite lost his momentum, he drew his bayonet, thrusting it into the back of the skull of the next zombie just before it could reach Blondie. Yanking it out with savage determination, he quickly wiped away the gore before looking to her, urgency and alarm evident in his eyes.

"We need to go. NOW."

He picked up 2 of the benches the woman had put down, trusting himself to his guardian angels over watching with the pistol. Following Blondie back to the stairs, he set the two down next to the original. Alex had originally planned to head back down, but looking around he realized they were out of time. The corpses of the recently fallen were all but gone and the hall was more crowded than ever. He grabbed the two benches he'd set down and ran through the door, laying the benches down on the other side. Hopefully Blondie had grabbed the last one and come after him.

Benches through, he turned to the group, doing a quick headcount before ushering them through the door. The sooner they got the bastard blocked the better.

[DJAtomika]

So intent was I to move those bloody benches that I didn't see the two wankers approach me. It wasn't until Army Man opened his mouth that I looked up and realised he'd downed two of them in the time it took me to even realise that fact. Jesus-bloody-Christ, this man was a bleedin' monster!

Suddenly I felt slightly less at ease with this man around. If he could off the dead wankers this easily, who was to say he wouldn't off us just as quickly?

"We need to go. NOW."

Well shite, boss-man, sure thing no questions asked. I nodded in response, still slightly stunned from the fact that I let my guard down. When the Army Man moved off with the rest of the benches, however, I had to shake my head to wake myself up before I moved with him. As he went through the doors and laid down the benches there, I followed suit and closed the doors gently behind me. With that done, I took the bench I was holding and gently braced it against the doorjamb, pushing it into place to make it nice and tight. I wish I had my pipe with me. I could've jammed it in the handle somehow, made it even harder to jam open or something. Ah shite, what did it matter now anyway, we were all colossally focked if we didn't make this door into a wall right this instant. I grabbed another bench and jammed it in where I could, slowly but surely forming some sort of barricade that would hopefully last longer than that chair leg. The idea wasn't genius, but it'd do for now.

After a few minutes of faffing about with the benches, I had a decent enough barricade in front of me; two benches jammed vertically against the doorframe and the wall with the rest seated against the door itself, however I could fit the bloody things. Damn exhausting work it was though, not nearly as tiring as hauling a bloody engine apart, but I wasn't at my shop anymore. That was all behind me. Right now, I-, no, WE needed to get to safety. When I turned around I saw that older lady, Doris I think it was, looking almost like death warmed over. I went over to her and knelt, giving her a once over with me eyes. I wasn't medically trained or anything, but I knew that she was in quite deep. A thought formed itself in my head and I turned back to our Army Man.

"Oy, what's-yer-name, our pal here needs help up these stairs. I don't think she'll make it on her own. Besides, we need to go up to get somewhere safer, which is anywhere but here. If there's an alternate route out of the school somewhere else, I say we head in that general direction, but we ain't goin' anywhere until she gets help."

[TomeBinder]

The group have made it to safety, for now. The horde, having finished feasting, were not alerted to their get-away and are now shambling around aimlessly in the gymnasium... best be quiet for now though, just in case.

Inside the corridor the group have found themselves in, there is an eery silence. The lack of shamblers means there'd a good chance no more remain throughout their immediate area, for surely the earlier gun fire would have drawn them. Nevertheless, one should never follow their assumptions blindly!

On a nearby school notice board, nestled between redundant notices of "After School Chess Club!" and "Army Strong, Find Out More Today!", sits a map of the Washington-Lee campus.