wow. I love you chris. In a non gay way.

I dunno which i should pick, i hope this guy's not crazy.
So, you write our actions even after we pick our option?
youre pretty damn good at it.

Rufus might get stuck getting the food.

Rufus cant trust the guy.

Its not safe outside.

We need our energy... we might get crazy over food.

Im getting the food.

DONT KILL HIM OFF!!!

It's pretty much like a normal RPG. I only wanted to just guide you guys in a certain direction, just to give y'all a feel of it. You guys don's have to choose the options I give you. I'll take over your character every now and again just to incorporate major plot elements. So, for right now, you guys just play normal (like David's futuristic RPG). Get it?

Yay, i think i like this

Affirmative. I get it now.



Here's the map again, I'll post it once every page so you dont have to go back to the first just to look at it.

+posts Security Corporate
I'll edit in my char here later.

Character Name:
Roger Myers
Appearance:
Tall, about 6". slightly skinny. Combined with being tall he looks really skinny. his hairk is short, and is a mixture of brown and blonde.
He is currently wearing a black shirt, and a pair of old jeans with a few holes here and there. He's wearing heavy duty sneakers, designed for forests or mountains.
Age:
17
History:
Has lived in Bostyork for all his life, as has his father. His mom was visiting town when they got in touch with eachother, and married a few years later. Despite the occational fight, the Myers family functioned prety well. They lived to the south of the residental part of the town (to boxes down from the safe house). His dad, Frank Myers, does a little bit of hunting now and then, mostly with his Ruger revolver, but he also has a hunting rifle locked down in the house.
Bio:
Roger has been doing alright at school for all his life, but in the late months his grades has been diving. Walking around doing nothing, or taking trips out of town to visit a forest some miles away was favored before his homework. It reached a climax when he was temporarily expelled two weeks ago. The free time was used to sneak away with his father's revolver, but he has never really used it except when he and his father were together.

At the time of the outbreak he was preparing to leave town for a while. Packing things he needed in his backpack, he slowly became aware of something bad going on. In a stroke of luck he decided to take more shells with him.
He never got longer than half a mile. Rioting was rapidly spreading across the city, leaving the entire area in chaos. Gunshots, explosions, sirens, screaming... Bodies.
Seeing other people taking refuge in a nearby house he quickly got to them before they boarded it up.
After the boards were taken down, Roger Myers parted from the others after receiving a walkie-talkie. He was going to get the rifle.

Primary weapon:
None at the moment, but he knows there's a rifle back home.
Secondary weapon:
Ruger 4-inch revolver, six .357 bullet capacity

Equipment:
Backpack
50 .357 shells, with three already filled drums
Home made belt for loose shells
Kinetic flashlight (it generates energy by shaking it. Real nifty )
Walkie-Talkie
Half-empty box of matches
A few bottles of water and some bread

This post has been edited by Elite viking on October 17, 2006 03:04 pm

Nick Rivers

Nick hit the clutch, shifted into first gear, and pulled the throttle as he went speeding around the car park. His Mk23 was in the holster and his carbine on his back. He need to think of something, fast. He avoided hitting any of the creatures as he turned onto the road.

He needed supplies before anything, but he started heading in the West Mall direction. He sped past burning car, masses of body's piled on top of one another, some clawing for freedom, as if they were still alive. One of them gave Nick almost a sense of pity for it, it was a small girl, about 6 years old. She had long, long brown hair, wearing only pajamas, and dragging a teddy bear. On top of all that, she was on fire, bumping into walls and buildings, tripping, moaning in some sort of pain. Nick stopped his bike and planted a .45 hollow tip bullet in the back of her head, before speeding off again.

He spotted a strip mall, with only about 5 stores but he decided to stop anyway. He went into the closest store first, a camping store. The door was locked, so he kicked through the window, leaving glass scattered about on the floor.

He quickly searched around. He grabbed a large camping pack, and a smaller haversack type bag. He quickly searched around the store for anything else, he grabbed a rain poncho, a pair of water proof Goretex boots (you can run in them), 6 pairs of socks, a pair of gloves, an LED "forever" torch (same thing as kinetic), A box of water proof matches, 2 canteens, 4 boxes of water purifing tablets, a zippo and 1 liter of fluid.

Next he moved on to the Grocery Store, heading straight for the canned food section. He was moving quickly becuase the stench of the rotting meats was horrid. He got canned beans, canned fruit, canned tuna and some spam. He also got powdered milk and eggs. He put this in his bag and then went to the beverage isle. He grabbed 5 bottles of Gatorade, he filled up his canteens, then grabbed around 20 bottles of water.

He ran out the store, his bike still wear he left it, and packed his supplies into his motorcycle. He then rode off to the West mall...

(you guys may want to read each others. Could give you hints and such. *wink wink*)

Roger Myers

You walked slowly towards your part of the suburb, holding your nose tightly form the decaying flesh that laid out, baking in the sun. You viewed the nearby houses with astonishment; you still could not believe that they were destroyed to the degree that they were. While nearing your medium sized home, you took notice at the family vehicle that was in your driveway. Your heart sank slightly as you turned your gaze to your front door, realizing that it was wide open, barely hanging on its hinges. You slowly walked near it, revolver raised. As you neared the door, you noticed the few bodies that were inside, all outstretched and ridden with bullet holes. You held your nose once more as you checked the size of the bullet holes, and could tell that it was definitely from your fathers rifle. You moved from the living room to the dining room, and there to your bedroom, yet no sign of the rifle or your family. Commotion upstairs made you jump in fright and bring your gun up to the ceiling. You trekked tediously near the stairs and stopped.

Hello? you called out weakly. The movement stopped. Your heart began to race and you slowly made your way again upstairs. Then the movement began once more, this time the footsteps were quickly moving towards the staircase. You froze abruptly and waited for the steps to get closer.

Oh God, you whisper horrifically at the sight of your father. He was wearing his usual casual clothing, except each long gash on the material had dried blood. Parts of his hair were missing as if Native Americans had scalped him, desiccated gore smeared across his face, eyes bloodshot with ragehe was not your father anymore. You brought your powerful revolver up and aimed it at him. With saturation in your eyes, you pulled the trigger as he leapt a few stairs at you. The shot knocked his head back, blowing parts of it away. His body crashed to the railing, flipping him over and onto the first floor where a loud explosion from the table erupted through the house. You rushed over to the railing and looked over to your dying father. What you saw will scar your brain, however, you needed to find the rifle. You headed upstairs, gun raised in case your mother was there with him. The rifle was instead lying next the wall near another dead man. His body was riddled with bullet holes, as if someone had abundant amount of animosity towards this person.

as you bent over and took hold of the hunting rifle, the man gave a loud moan that made you jump back. As you leapt back, you dropped the rifle and aimed your revolver at the dead man. You stared at him and clicked back the trigger. You then bent over and grabbed your rifle. You put away your revolver and sling the rifle over your shoulder. You pull out your walkie-talkie and click the clicker.

This is Roger Myers. Ive got my rifle, and Im also going to check my family van if its useable or not.

Only static responded to your message, making your body have an uneasy, sinking feeling in your abdomen. Then, as loud as possible, a message from an unfamiliar voice responded on the mechanical transmitter.

Roger? Hurry and get your van, ASAP! Its a fucking war zone out here! Get to the docks down South, and - fuck!

Who are-

Listen, we can cover all this later. I need you to pick me up past the Docks and at the Harbor! Be careful, though. I think a large cruise was hereIll be at or around a large warehouse. Meet me there.

Got it.

You ran over to your fathers room, grabbed the keys to the car that were laying on the nightstand, and ran out of the house, jumping over the dead bodies. Once outside, you then observed and coherently understood what the guy was talking about when saying war zone. The dead has risen, and their moans filled the bright, sunny sky. Gunshots rang out in the distance, and you knew that you needed to head towards the Harbor to pick up whoever the person was.

As you ran to the vehicle, you clicked the keypad to unlock the car. A

============

Drake Bennett

Your boots hammered at the warehouse door. The moans from behind you were getting increasingly louder, intensifying your attempts to blow the door wide open. As a brush of a hand tickled the back of your neck, the door flew open with the last swish of a kick. You fell inside, kicking the door closed behind you. You flipped three metal locks on the door, as well as a large metal lock was slid onto place. The thundering of the hands hitting the door was loud, but your body slowly let the adrenaline cease. You turned around and focused in on the dim inside. The large windows a story higher slightly lit the place, yet it seemed as cheerless as hell itself.

You made your way towards an office that only allowed office employees inside. You rolled your highs at the thought of breaking the rules and pushed the door open with a slight heave. It opened up to reveal a mahogany-desk, an apple computer placed on top, an electric box, and other unessential junk. In the corner, there was a very large generator, with the gauge showing signs of no use. You started it and a loud hum ran through the room, then fluorescent lights stuttered, yet finally illuminated the darkness. You gazed out the office and finally took notice of how large the warehouse really was. It was at least a football field in length and width, grated floor in the second story, and metal shelves outlined the whole place, with at least five rows of shelves.

A loud his from your portable radio made you drop your gun and grab for it. A static-ridden voice flew out of it, and you were only able to catch a few bits:

-is Roger-and Im also going-family van if its useable or not.

You clicked the transmit button and was about to respond, except the front door blew out. You picked up your gun with one hand, ran out of the office and began to fire off shots at the horde of zombies that were nearing you. You made a few of them drop down to the cement, making others trip in their wake, but you knew you would die soon if you didnt get the man over to you.

Roger? you ask in your radio hastily. Hurry and get your van, ASAP! Its a fucking war zone out here! Get to the docks down South, and - fuck!

Your gun fired dry, making you release the clip in one hand. A pause on the other end, then the man responded to your brisk message.

Who are-

Listen, we can cover all this later. I need you to pick me up past the Docks and at the Harbor! Be careful, though. I think a large cruise was hereIll be at the large warehouse. Meet me there!

You clicked your radio off, put it away, and grabbed another clip from your pouch. You slammed it into your gun and clicked the slide back. A bullet when to its ready place, and you looked around. You saw a ladder that could take you to the crosswalk and you hesitated before running towards it. An undead needed to be kciked away before you could climb up it. As you reached the top, you looked down all fifteen feet, and saw that you were relatively safe from the hoard. You reached the top uneventfully, put the gun away, and looked around. You noticed one of the windows could be taken off, which would lead you to the roof: you took it. Just as pay back, you threw the large window off the crosswalk at the inspecting victims below. The window crashed onto their heads prompting you to grin weakly.

As you crawled out, you grabbed at the scorching hot roof, and you pulled back. You put your gloves on before returning to try to grab at the roof again. You bared the heat and clambered onto the roof. You noticed a ladder near the wall, but would wait until the man came to you. A loud click of a handgun from behind you made you stand stalk still.

This is my haven.

You turned your head slowly around and saw a works man holding a Colt1911 at your direction. He was shaking uncontrollably with fright and anxiety. This man was an uninfected loon you observed.

This is my haven! he bellowed at you once more.

You knew that this man was serious business. Dispatch him somehow unless you want to sport a hole in your chest.

==============

Mr.Micky, I'll get to yours later tonight, don't worry.

Tomorrow I'll have time to write, but yeah, this sounds really promising so far. There's one thing you forgot in the map though Chris, schools! And I forgot to add in an equipment section to Adrian's profile! Silly me...

Equipment:

Worn Items:

- Undergarmets and Socks (Dur Dur Dur!)
- Military Grade III Kevlar Vest
- Ballistic Kevlar Helmet
- National Guard Standard BDU
- Military Grade Combat Boots

On Hand Items: (As in accessable on clothing, such as pockets, belt, etc)

- Water Canteen (1 Liter's Worth)
- Solar Powered Flashlight (Daytime energy stored in a battery.)
- 2 Flashbangs, 1 Smoke Grenade
- 3 spare clips for M16a2, 1 spare clip for M9 Berreta
- Cigar

Backbacked Items:

- Water Keg (3 Liter's Worth)
- Military Rations (2 Day's Worth)
- 5 Torch Flares
- Large Box of Matches (200)
- Blanket

That be it yes?

This post has been edited by Security Corporate on October 18, 2006 07:56 am

Roger Myers
New weapon: Timber Scout, with eight .44 Rem. shot capacity
Equipment: Partially depleted box of .44 Rem. (Sorry for the itty bitty things, but I want some realism in this )

As I opened the car I thought of bringing ammunition for the rifle. It would be useless with whatever remained in the tube. I ran back into the house after throwing the rifle and backpack in the passenger seat.

Next to the hole-riddled body I saw a box which said, ".44 Remington Magnum 20pack"on the front. Shell casings on the floor suggested that some of them had been used, but I didn't have any more time to spare. I hurried out of the house and back to the car, stashing the box in the backpack where I could easily get to them.

"Roger Myers, does anybody read me? Driving to the docks to assist someone. Didn't have time to load supplies, but there's lots of room for it if anyone else has."

Nothing but static. Starting to panic, I thought that everyone on that frequency were dead. I quickly switched through all the four other channels with my left hand and switched the ingition to the car with my right. The engine started after a short stutter. I sped out of the urbs, dodging the wreckage filling the streets as best I could. The large vehicle plowed through whatever things i didn't evade.

The Walkie-Talkie burst to life. "Nick, Frank, anyone? We're-shit-" The man was cut off by gunfire, and then a loud screech gradually turning into static again.
Things were spiralling downhill fast. I switched back to the second channel, belonging to my "team" of search parties and scouts. The others would have to help themselves.



---
I was a little confused, since you cut off my section a bit abrupt, Chris, but I've contiuned directly after it.

This post has been edited by Elite viking on October 18, 2006 03:49 pm

Nick

Nick's radio buzzed to life as a man's voice came through the static, "-docks- large warehouse- cruise ship-". Nick's mind raced with thoughts, could it be a way out of this hell hole, or was it a cry for help. He didn't have time to think, he quickly flipped his bike around and sped off to the docks.

When Nick got to the docks he saw to men on top of a roof, one looked like a soldier, the other like a civlian. The civilian had the soldier at gun point. The solider was slowly walking forward as the civilain was backing up. All of a sudden the civilian tripped, the solider snapped the mans arm and pulled the gun away, fired a shot into the man's chest, then gave him a kick off of the roof.

Nick turned around, zombies closing in from each side.

"Well shit in my mouth and call me your sister..." said nick as he pulled out his Mk23. It was muscle memory at this point. Point click, Point Click. Nick fired a shot into a fat man's head, who fell ontop of a small women behind him, they landed on the asphalt with a crack.

The soldier jumped onto the ladder and slid down it, firing shots into the crowd.

"Not exactly a van, eh?" proclaimed the soldier.

"What?" asked Nick as he fired a shot into a teen age boy, the hollow tip of the bullet splattering brain in all direction.

"Nothing, names Drake." His foot planted into a mans chest, sending him back a few feet.

"Well get the fuck on, Drake." Said Nick as he fired his last round into the crowd.

The man mumbled something, and ran away. Nick decided not to get eaten by a crow of girl scout's not far behind him, so he rode away.

This post has been edited by Nikku on October 19, 2006 02:36 am

Nikku...holmes...great writing 'n' all - I'm lovin' it - but PLEASE, don't power-play me. Please. I beg of you. I'ma write from before I jump on the bike. My char doesn't like bikes.

Drake Bennett

New equipment
Colt M1911 (6 rounds)

Drake was frozen in indecision. He'd had bad experiences with bikes in the past - one such bad experience being when his friend attempted a wheelie at high speed, and ended up with his friend and a half-tonne bike on top of him. Letting out a small groan, he readied himself to jump on.

He looked up, and froze again.

There, on another rooftop, was his target - Troy Forelli, holding a crowbar in one hand and a suitcase in the other. He could hazard a guess what was inside the suitcase.

"Y'know what...save the ride, I've got to take car of something," Drake said, looking for a ladder up to Troy's rooftop.

Nick looked dumbfounded. "What? Are you insane, pal? You'll get yourself killed! We need all the people we can get-"

"This is important, alright? Listen - I'm on the same radio channel as you, I'll give you a shout at some point, let you know I'm alive. I'll catch you some other time."

Ignoring Nick's shouts, he ran for the ladder up to Troy, and clambered up it as fast as possible. Hearing the sound of the motorbike's engine getting further away, he figured that Nick didn't decided to watch someone else get torn to pieces.

He didn't know why he was doing it. Troy was probably going to get torn apart by some zombie anyway - the job meant nothing right now. But he couldn't just walk away after seeing him - three other bounty hunters were after him, and he was the only one to track him to this town. He couldn't just let the guy escape.

Once he got up to Troy's level, the criminal had already gone. Swearing, he ran along the rooftop and saw him disappearing round a corner two storeys down. "Shit," he muttered, sticking the Colt into the waistband of his trousers. He realised he had just foregone a ride out of one of the hottest parts of town to chase after a criminal who wasn't even there anymore. "Damnit!"

He jumped down into a skip filled with rubbish, and climbed out, checking his surroundings. He saw a large military vessal stationed nearby at the harbour, and set out for that. Maybe there were marines on board who could help out...unless it was one of those historical ships purely for looking around at and saying 'oooh'. Then he was screwed.

All right, any OOC (Out of Character)should now be placed in that topic.

Roger Myers

You planted your foot harder on the gas pedal, dodging and weaving through the burning cars and walking corpses. The thought of the Docks was planted in your mind. Should you go, or should you try to meet up with the others? You had higher hopes for a group of people than some haphazard mission to get an unknown man. So you turned your wheel right, going down the long stretch of road, trees surrounding your right and left. Memories of your trips into the woods wandered into your mind. After a short period, you then came to a crossroad, and you realized that the West Mall was to your left, yet it was one of the busiest parts of the town.

The Police Station, you whispered softly to yourself. You knew there would not be any surviving police officers, however an armory with ammo and weapons was more than likely. You zoomed past a collision of a couple of cars, plowed through a crowd of zombies, and came to a downed streetlight, making you smile. You then went through that without another thought, and came to the very large police station. You were in a state of awe with the amounts of carnage and accidents that littered the exterior of the building. Police vehicles were in a line formation with rioting equipment to fend off - you presume - the infected. There were a few number of infected stragglers, despite the recent carnage that must have ensued. You knew it was not near the large intersections and such, yet the amounts of people that should have been here would have brought the plaguedyet there were only a few.

You stopped your van at the blockade and clambered out. You brought your gun, leaving your backpack; you were only going to be here for a few minutes tops. You lifted the sights of the gun to your right eye, staring down it at the few enemies on the other side of the blockade. A single crack from your rifle brought the nearest zombie to the ground in an instant. You then slung then weapon over your shoulder, ran up to the cars, slid across the hood, and towards the stations stairs. You weaned through three of the infected and up to the glassed doors. You peered inside of a split-second and saw whirling red, blinking lights, signaling emergency. You grabbed the handle and tried to throw it open, yet the lock restrained any movement.

Shit.

You brought the butt of the gun up and began to hammer at the lower part of glass door, after a few strokes, the bulletproof glass cracked. You began to hammer at it some more, twisting your head around, watching as an increasing number of zombies began to near your position. How in the Hell did they get here so quickly? You turned your attention back at the door and realized that you made a good enough of an entrance to fit your body through. You ducked under and walked inside, feeling like you just walked into a large club with strobe lights. You looked for any form of life and saw a few police officers slumped against the wall. You examined their bodies and saw that neither of them had any bite marks, yet a large hole in the chest where their heart was supposed to be. The stench of the bodies had you gagging, vomit spewing on one of the officers.

You wiped your mouth on the back of your palm and tried to swallow down the burning sensation of stomach acid that stuck to your throat. Movement by the reception desk caught your attention, making you whip your head towards it with gun raised. A pair of red eyes gazed venomously at you, and as soon as you blinked, they were gone. What in the

You followed the arrow that led you to the armory and saw a dying police officer near the metal door. As you neared with him, he turned his head at you with a pistol aimed at your head. You froze and could make out the pure terror that was placed on his face, even with the strobe lights buzzing around the hallway. He was mumbling something as he brought he gun slowly down, observing the human that you were. You knelt down near him and pressed your head near his ear.

Theres.beastin hereeyesheartbeat

What?

His body went limp as soon as you responded, and you realized that he, unlike all the others, died of many bite marks on his body. Yet with a simple observation, the marks werent those of human covering his shoulders and neck.

Oh God.

You knew you were not alone, as the red eyes came out of the darkness, except this time you could see the silhouette of the carrier. It looked to be human at first glance, except it was much buffer, four long talons in place of fingers, and a smaller disproportional head rested on what seemed to be a retractable neck. A long tongue swam out of his jaw and hung to his chest, saliva dripping from the lethal weapon. Then, it jumped to the ceiling and sunk its talons into it. It gave a high-pitched roar, and scurried briskly out of sight. You knew you were in some deep shit. You needed to grab the weapons and get the Hell out of there. God knows what that thing could do, as well as there might be more than one.

============

Drake Bennett

You grabbed hold of the ladder and slid down it. The sun painted the faces of the creatures nearing you once you hit ground. You ran through a crowd, shoving and pushing their arms away from your vulnerable body. Upon reaching a long flooring that led up to the boot, you turned your body towards the zombies and fired off a couple of shots at them. You jumped over a rope that warned of Military Boat, and you thought it must be of military descentat least that thought of yours was correct. However, after running around it briefly, dispatching a few straggling zombies overboard, your hopes were crushed as a tourist shop was in place of a large room.

What now, you said, shaking your head. While you still did not regret not receiving a bike ride from that man, you still needed a ride out of there. Then a miracle of a quick observation appeared: a lifeboat. Even better was that fact that it even had a motor on it. You ran over to it and checked gas level and it was even filled. As you were throwing the ropes off, a choke hold presented itself around your neck. You were thrown to the ground roughly and pain was sent through your head. With vision shook up, you still focused on the person that did it. Luckily it was not a zombie, however it was still a situation nonetheless as a person with a white t-shirt was aiming a Beretta handgun at your chest. He looked to be no more than mid twenty at most, yet took control of the situation quickly.

All right, he began roughly. Since I need the ammunition, I wont kill you, yet you are still a threat to my situation. So here is what I want for you to do. I need to gather all the remaining survivors and take them to the airport. You will find an able-bodied man that can fly you all out of here.

You only stared at this man. While he didnt look insane, his motives were still bizarre to you. You were about to open your mouth until he clicked the hammer down of his handgun.

You will find them at the West Mall. Did you understand what I just told you?

You still only stared at him, seeing the situation as surreal. He brought the gun back and slapped you severely across the head. Your vision went black for a couple seconds and focused back towards the deck.

Did you understand what I just told you? he asked again, this time eyes staring corruptly at you. You shook your head slowly, understanding what instruction he just told you. He pointed his gun at the lifeboat for you to get in. You slowly got up, grabbing the side of head. Crimson blood was trickling form the strike he donated to your skull. You sat down in it, and felt the boat quickly fall to the water. It came crashing down to the water with a splash, almost throwing you overboard.

You shook the thought of your recent encounter with the mysterious man away; that wasnt the weirdest event to happen to you. Yet the nagging feeling that something much bigger was happening here was pricking the side of your brain. Or that was the pain from the gun. Either way, you started the lifeboat, and began to make your way towards the Docks. There was bound to be a car there for you to hotwire or you may be lucky and find keys to them.

============

Nick Rivers

You sped off towards the West Mall, speeding past street lights and zombies with post-haste. You reached the parking lot to the Mall much quicker than you thought possible.

Guess going over one-hundred the whole way makes it a much quicker ride.

You found numerous amounts of zombies laying dead on the pavement, bullet casings littered the ground. You picked one up and noticed that they were of shotguns and sub-machineguns. No handgun could fire off that many rounds that quickly. You grabbed your guns and ammo, dropping the casings to the ground.

You neared the entrance and found it open quickly, with what looked to be of a worker holding it open for you.

Get in, quickly! You looked over your shoulder and saw a hoard of zombies closing in behind you. How you didnt notice this bewildered you, albeit you now had no choice but to get inside. You ran inside and the glass door closed behind you. The man ran over to a red switch. He flipped it, the sound of a locking mechanism filled the doorway. A large grating shutter fell from the ceiling, closing off the view from the doorway.

No way those things could get through that.

Have there been others here? You asked with concern.

Yeah, a few. Some soldiers, a couple of survivors, and now you. he responded with satisfaction. If there are any others, they can always use the walkie-talkie to tell us. Yeah, one of the other survivors all ready told us about them.

You turned your attention to the stores and large fountain, then to the far back where an elevator was.

Oh, thats off-limits, the man said, noticing you observing the elevator. A few people all ready tried going up there, but they never came back down.

You frowned and then looked back towards him.

What do we do know?

Well he started, thinking. We lost contact with the police from the neighboring town. It seems it is only happening in this town. The military quarantined this hamlet, leaving us towell, die. But, somehow our communications from the technical room went out static. Something must have knocked the connection from the antenna out. Thats our guess anyway. The only way to fix that is to go to the second floor, get to the roof, and get to the powerbox that connects to the transmission

He trailed off, seeing that you looked interested.

Its suicide.

And?

He gave a deep sigh, seeing that you wouldnt let down from the situation.

OK, Ill be on channel two on your transmitter. Call me if you get to the roof access. I will lead you from there. If you find any trouble, get out of there! I have a feeling zombies arent the worst things here.

You made your way to the elevator, and breathed deeply. Youve been to this mall a few times, and you know how giant the second floor is. And if there are as many zombies as this man is making it out to be, you may need more help. Even if you ran out of ammo, there were a couple of gun stores that could probably suit you, if they have not been raided yet. Even if you dont find the antenna, the rest of the survivors were up there in trouble. You could always turn back now if you wanted to and wait for the other guy.

============

This post has been edited by -=Chris Redfield=- on October 20, 2006 12:37 pm

Rufus Stocton


Current Equipment:
SPAS 12, Dragonblade, DEAGLE

New group members:
Security Guard


Rufus and his group looked for a staircase. "Cant we just go to an escalator?" Suggested a member. "No, it is too dangerous out there. We might just get into alot more trouble." Rufus responded.

The Security guy pointed out the directions, and the group followed.
After a few directions, they finally made it to the second floor, out onto a door next to the elevator.

"A sea.... a sea of... zombies..." Rufus cried.

"I want food... I want food now!!!"
The security guy quickly ran for the food court, which was blocked by a huge crowd of zombies.
The zombies smelled his flesh, and started coming for the Security guy.

The security guy shot the incoming zombies with his pathetic handgun, believing that he'll be able to destroy all of the zombies.

Rufus and his group didnt hesitate.
They ran towards the security guy, to assault with the zombies. They believe that the security guy has all the information about this mall.

Rufus did not aim, and shot whichever target comes close to him.
The other crewmen kept close to the security guy, shooting the surrounding zombies near them.

"We cant hold them off much longer!!!" Shouted one member.

"Run, run for the escalator!!!" Shouted the security guy.

Without hesitating, the group ran down the escalator, which was nearby.

Rufus followed them, while reloading his gun.

They ran down the moving escalator, with a sea of zombies behind them.

"What do we do, what do we do?!!?!?!" One member cried.

"I have a plan. But, i dont think its full proof. Just, follow my league."
The security guy responded.

They immediately ran down, away from the zombies.
The zombies kept on following them.

As they ran, they found a nearly barricaded maintenance door.

"I knew this would come in handy." Said the security guard.
"I'll go in, and you guys, hold these fools down. Reload your ammo, get ready, and do not wait for me when they come. I will... catch up."
"But we cant lose you!!! Youre our guide---"
"I CAN HANDLE THIS. IF I DONT GET THE FOOD, I'LL JUST BLOW MYSELF UP TO HELP YOU GUYS. SO GO NOW!!!!"
He was obviously hungry, but he still wants to save them.
"Let's hope that he does it quickly. Because, I see them coming. Coming for us."

______________________________________________________________
Im sorry for a shitty thing. I'm not focused enough, cause im experiencing alot of bad things. I just want to keep my character, and I was thinking of doing it when Im not so tired, and am ready. But chris was gonna remove me, so i had to make it. Didnt have plans, didnt have time to read your stories. Sorry..

STORY NOTE:
If you guys didnt think, the sec. guy wants the food badly, but his brain will not melt for it. He'll do whatever he can. Also he wanna save Rufus and them

Drake Bennett

New equipment
Flare gun (7 flares)

Head still pounding from where the man with the Beretta had hit him, Drake headed towards the Docks. He wasn't sure what exactly had happened, apart from that he had been choked, hit around the head a few times, and given some specific instructions.

He reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a battered packet of cigarettes. Lighting one on his Zippo, he noticed a flare gun under the seat, along with some spare flares. "Thank you," he said, slipping them into his pocket.

A few minutes later, he flicked the butt of the cigarette over the side and stopped next to a low jetty. He drew his P228, and stepped off the boat, looking around for any hostiles. A few zombies stood near a large pickup truck. "Hmm," he murmured, flicking the safety off and making his way over on silent feet.

A zombie turned, and received a 9mm hollow-point round through the eye. It keeled over, knocking another zombie to the ground. The other few zombies were quickly dispatched.

Drake ran over to the truck, and tried the door. Noticing it was locked, he flicked out his baton and smashed in the window. Thankfully, there was no alarm to alert any undead to his presence. He put the baton away, and climbed into the truck, sweeping the glass off the seat with his sleeve. After a few moments of fiddling, he had the truck started, and set out to the West Mall.