Ash Holloway
Location: Arnco Mills Safehouse (E10)
Skills: Leadership
"...damnit..." growled Ash, pulling on his personal rucksack. The dog in the backyard was making their lives perilous. He had half a mind to put a bullet into the animal and spare both it and themselves a lot of aggravation, but it was too late to avoid the Horde. They were coming, period. Maybe the dog keeps them occupied so they could get out of the front. Staring briefly into the writhing mass of rotting, putrid flesh coming for them, Ash could content himself with the fact that, at the very least, they weren't clowns. That thought alone, a horde of red noses, grease paint, and oversized shoes, gave him a sense of revulsion that surpassed even the Dead.
Ash grabbed Thana's pack and slung it over one shoulder. He could probably carry more, but time was fleeting and he had to drive. It was a short matter before that mass of Dead folks noticed that there was more to behold than a dog on top of a car and come a-looking. Now was not the time to fight. That would be suicide. While Ash felt the occasional bit of uncertainty as to his place in the world and whether or not he was doing anybody any good by continuing to consume oxygen, he was not in a hurry to die just that moment. He had to get his people into the Hordebuster and haul ass out of there. This difficulty had just moved their plans up a handful of hours. Ash's voice was quiet but soldierly as he issued orders.
"Jack's on Medpack, good. Riley, get your stuff and the radio equipment. Tiff, Niesha - Supplies. As much as you can grab and still run. We got a shot at making it, but it's going to close in about a minute. Move out." For himself, Ash made a careful beat to the Hordebuster. That thing had saved lives before, and it would again. The coast was clear, or so it seemed, so the Captain clambered into the driver's seat, tossing the packs in before him. He cracked open the suicide door leading to the sleeper section of the cab to allow for others to get in with minimal difficulty, but postponed starting the engine up until
after everyone was safely on board, either in the cab, climbing up the ladders to get into the dump body, or in the vehicle that Jack and Tiffany arrived in, which he kept glancing toward in the rearview. Ash was anxious to get to put some distance between his people and these walking corpses. Their best bet would be to circle wide around the crater that was Newnan and make for the third safehouse in Moreland. It was time to go. Damn, but it really was. Luck was with them for a second or two there, how long it would hold out was anybody's guess. And if he saw just one fucking clown in that Horde... it was on.
Thalia Carmichael
Location: Eden, Hallway past Mens doors -> Coming to Adamm's Wing
Skills: Stealth, Pistol, Sharp Weapons
They were still moving. It was something. Being dead was not exactly the plan, and those who remained had been showing remarkable resourcefulness and determination in doing so. It was primal, almost. The idea of a no surrender, no retreat scenario in which the few of hers or the many of theirs would meet their untimely demise was not something she would have signed on for, generally. This felt different, though. So very different. Thalia had taken lives before. A handful, really, but there were people who failed to have a pulse because of her. This was done purely for survival. Right now though? Thalia had killed more people than she ever dreamed she might just today, and it was because she
chose to do so. They could have sidestepped this whole, freaky dilemma, but didn't. Saints help her, but she was skirting the line between not minding the killing
and genuinely liking it.
Her eyes remained focused on her surroundings, even as her hands reflexively went through the steps required to flip out her clips, first in the Beretta and then the Glock. It seemed fitting to use the strange man's weapon instead of her own MSS issued pistol, like part of him was there, helping her. Guiding her. Fighting alongside her. Astrid's shield gave a similar feeling. Thalia tucked the other 9mm back into its holster and carefully drew her machete. Spirits seemingly melded with the ash upon her face, soaking into her essence like fire caressing her soul, fueling her. It was a strange thing she had noticed about herself since this apocalypse started - Fire. She couldn't seem to get enough of it anymore. Not that she was stupid about it, far from, just that it had become her favorite tool, second only to the blade in her hand. Visions of burning this unwholesome place to the ground and letting the Zeds pick over the embers brought a smile to her face. God, but she wanted to burn something. She would have to settle for just the battle right now and let the blaze come after.
Thana's assertion that she indeed "got her six" earned her a quiet growl of recognition. Navy was still capable of fighting, if limited somewhat. A bitch like that would survive, and that's what she needed. Thalia could now focus her attention forward, to the corner that she had to go around. Quietly and quickly, she approached, listening for any signs of movement whatsoever. She simply couldn't tell, and resolved to rush forward the next few feet as if to "shock and awe" anyone nearby. She had close and far combat options, but she did so appreciate close. Her decision was rewarded by the view of a lone Edenite swinging a rifle in her direction. The suddenly close quarters did little to help with this tactic, however. Thalia was close enough to bat the barrel of the weapon away from herself with her machete and step past the business end, silencing its wielder with a quick lateral slash to the throat. She then paused, even as the floor pooled with arterial crimson, and listened with weapons at the ready. She didn't believe there was just one hiding around here. There had to be more.
