Urban Dead: The Price of the Oath

[Josh]

They were closing in on the refinery, and had sucessfully repelled the attempt to mob them enroute.

Stage one was nearing completion. Stage two was going to be a whole 'nother ball of wax.

[Pcm979]

Mike checked his ammunition and grunted with satisfaction. He'd need the majority of it for the return trip; They'd have to get through all the Zombies they'd roused on the way in, and more. He covered the militiamen as they disembarked and then followed at the rear.

Jesus, he'd killed someone.

"All right!" Sherry instructed, "Gunners one and two of each team remain at the truck, keep our path clean!" She looked to Mike, then gestured to a railing on the third floor of the building. Perfect sniper's nest. And then she was off, assisting the first truck's team with gathering the waist-high oil drums.

[Josh]

With spears and axes, the militiamen moved through their area. A couple of calls indicated encounters, quickly handled. As a temporary expedient, the corpses were pinned in place with spears against the prospect of rapid revival, as some of the shamblers had taken to doing lately.

The rest moved quickly, securing and loading the drums onto the trucks. One man failed to properly position a drum and had it roll back onto him, crushing his legs underneath its bulk. His screaming pierced the air...

[Pcm979]

Sherry dove quickly, bracing the drum against herself to keep it from rolling further. They were 50-gallon-holders, more than enough to kill him if left to roll unassisted.
"He-help please!" she grunted.

Mike raced up and took some of the barrel's weight. "On three." He said calmly. "One, two, three!" He pushed hard on the barrel.

As Mike and Sherry managed to get the thing back onto the truck, the man in the boot of the pickup managed to tilt it upright and secure it with bungee cords like the rest of them. Sherry looked up to Mike.
"You go provide us with the cover fire; I'm gonna get this kid somewhere safe."
As she did so, she checked his injuries and then had one of the gunmen help him into the passenger's seat of Marley's truck.

Mike nodded and jogged off to his perch.

[Josh]

The noise was serving to lure the neighborhood shamblers in. Sporadic shouts indicated that the perimeter was being challenged. Living in the cleared zone around the mall had let some people forget just how infested the rest of town was.

The rest of the loaders moved with haste, until all the trucks were laden with barrels.

[Pcm979]

Mike concentrated on keeping their exit corridor clear, conserving ammo where possible and using his high vantage point to shout instructions to those below. It was good target practice, at least; He was getting better with the H&K all the time.

They weren't able to get as many as they liked onto the trailer, but Sherry wasn't going to press her team's luck. She whistled twice, rapidly: the order to regroup and fall back.

[Josh]

Not a moment too soon for the militia, who streamed back toward the vehicles. The wounded man had mercifully passed out and was loaded into a cab for transport back to the mall.

Stage two was nearing completion.

[Pcm979]

Mike was once again the final one to reach their destination, covering them until the last. He set up on the back of a trailer again, mind racing in about five different directions at once.

Sherry counted heads; looked good to her. She signaled to the second truck's driver and then glanced down to one of the militiamen, who'd been busy checking the trailer's hitch. After he gave the okay, she knocked on the cab of the pickup. "Good job, boys!" she called, "Now it's time to get your guns ready!"

[Josh]

Shamblers started closing in on them as Marley threw the truck into gear and... not quite peeled out, more like lumbered out... the heavily-laden truck bouncing heavily on its springs as they started out. Fire rippled out from the escorts on the trucks, slamming into the zombies and dropping several.

[Caz]

"Wow. That's refreshing change. I guess I just naturally assumed it was something awful, things bein' how they are. Lucky they had such a fine doctor around, eh?" He smiled, a little bit of life in a city of death.

(Quoting so everyone knows who I'm replying to.)

She grinned. "Aye, Mike's a fine doctor. He gets a tad nervous sometimes, but that's just a sign he still cares."

She paused for a moment, then said:

"Speaking of doctors, is there anything you need help with that you were too out of it to mention last night?" Jokingly, she lifted the comforter of his bed and peered under it. "Ah! Your legs are still attached, I see... good show!"

[Caz]

Sherry kept mostly out of the gunfight, choosing instead to use the shovel to dismember anything that got close enough to cause a fuss past the initial volley of shots. Not many did, which is a good thing, because even those they didn't get in the head were still pushed back a bit by the assault.

"Just keep it up!" she encouraged the men over the roar of the strained motors.

[Pcm979]

Mike plugged another one in the chest, knocking it down. Fancy shootin' was right out with the trucks rumbling like they were, and-

A snarl and a rotting hand grabbed the side of the truck. Shit. He hadn't been paying attention to his own flank. He reflexively smashed the Zombie's head with the rifle's stock, backpeddling to get a shot with the absurdly long gun.

[Josh]

The barrels prevented Mike from backpedaling very far as the zombie levered itself inside.

"GRAAAAAGH!" it snarled as it lunged for him.

[Pcm979]

Abandoning any idea of getting a shot, Mike instead used the massive, sturdy gun as an impromptu club, bowling the Zombie to the floor of the truck. He scrambled away from it, fumbling for the axe at his belt.

[Josh]

The zombie's arm broke under the buttstroke, but that deterred it not at all. It pursued him across the truck, bloody viscious drool and chunks of gray matter dribbled from its shattered mouth.

It would seem the zombie had fed recently...

[Hedgecore]

"Oh, ah, I meant you." he said, blushing slightly. "Mike? Ah, well, I suppose I'll meet him soon enough."

He leaned back a little and shook his head. "First time I did a delivery, I about lost my shit. Doesn't get easier, though, even after you've got one under your belt." Lasko sighed, "maybe thats just me."

[Pcm979]

Mike smashed the axe into its face, trying to use momentum to swing it off the truck. A few more inches and he'd be pressed up against the cab, damnit.

[Josh]

More properly he tried to smash the axe against its face, as it raised its arm, intercepting the axe under the blade. It pushed forward, muscling him up against the cab. The stench was horrid and overpowering, rot and spoil, wafting over him as it opened its fangy mouth...

[Caz]

"It only gets easier if you get complacent," Melanie opined, "so you're right on the mark there, kid."

Although neither of them knew it, they were actually the same age, bizarrely enough.

She then thought about the doctor remark, shook her head a bit despite the grin on her face.

"Not a doctor," she reminded him. "Although to be fair to myself, I think this whole event qualifies me as a hell of a nurse."

[Pcm979]

Mike braced himself against the cab and drew his legs up, pressing his feet against the Zombie's chest and pushing with all his might.

[Josh]

Something cracked in the zombie's chest, and Mike's feet actually plunged into the decaying torso. They both fell down, his shoes stuck in zombie torso. It grasped his calves with its talons and dug into the meaty flesh...

[Pcm979]

Deja vu! Exclaimed a portion of his psyche which was happily sitting back with a bowl of popcorn and watching the event. He ignored the pain in his legs and swung his other rifle off his shoulder, pointing its barrel between the Zombie's eyes and firing.

[Josh]

The zombie, having no good response for this tactic, was forced to endure the detonation of its cranium as the bullet passed through it and then plonked into one of the barrels, which began spewing a stream of oil out into the bed of the pickup.

[Pcm979]

Mike pulled his feet out of the monster's torso and kicked it off the trailer, limping over to the barrel and ditching it, too. It was a liabilty at this stage. Much like you, eh? whispered another side of his psyche. Waving it away, he sat down heavily on the cab, rifle ready once more.

[Caz]

As they rounded a corner, one zombie that Sherry had her eyes on managedd to keep out of the line of fire and make its way toward the head truck. She slammed the shovel hard into its throat, and... pulled back an empty stick. Sure, the zombie went down, but...

"Ruin my fun, cunting thing!" she hollered at it, then used the stick to clothesline another one as they picked up speed, moving onto a road they'd cleared with the bulldozer.

"Fucking rot for all I care!" she huffed.