Urban Dead: The Price of the Oath

[Caz]

"I have to wait for them to bring me my tools," she said. "But I will fix your leg as soon as I can."

She spoke a bit slow, but in a confident and inoffensive voice.

[Cynical Cat]

He nodded and proceeded to wait.

[Josh]

Zimmerman watched as the two men were brought up, followed by Marley and Freddy.

"What's going on down there," he asked Marley incredulously.

"Rotter wants ammo, oil, and a whetstone. And for the doc to fix his leg. He brought our people back, I'm getting him what he wants. You people! Get back to work!" he shouted. "We don't have all day! Time we got now was bought with fucking blood!"

The roof bustled back to activity as he went looking. Freddy followed along. "I need a medical kit!"

[Caz]

"Sit down," she said, "so I can see your leg?"

She heard Freddy readying the supplies up on the mall's roof.

[Cynical Cat]

He sat, peering at her.

[Caz]

She could see the problem without even attempting to: the femur of his right leg was broken, more toward the hip than toward the knee, and the bone appeared to have knotted together, healing almost instantaneously but in a way that would no doubt make walking painful. And impossible for a mere man.

But she decided to check and see if there was any other damage first.

With the gentle touch of one who was trained to handle such things in a much more controlled environment, she put her hands on his ankle,

"Tell me if anything hurts other than the big bone in your leg," she said, keeping her eyes on his. See? I'm trustworthy.

Carefully, painstakingly, and with just as care and attention as applied to any other patient, she carefully put pressure on his shin, the back of his leg, and then moved her hands tentatively up to his kneecap, which undoubtedly would be sore. She just needed to know if it was broken.

[Pcm979]

A group of Zombies toiled, dragging masonry aside clumsily. Another wandered nearby and was seemingly dragged inwards, as though fighting against a strong current. Eventually it, too, began hauling concrete from the area.

A long, clawed hand burst from the rubble and dragged the closest Zombie down to a fanged mouth emerging from the dust. Powerful teeth ripped into rotting flesh, and the unwilling assistant was turned into an unwilling meal.

The Zombie Leader freed itself and roared. Necks popped and crackled as dessicated heads turned, beholding their new master.

[Pcm979]

Together, they wedged a desk into place infront of the door as quietly as possible. No sound seemed to come from the other side, thankfully.

"So where's the power station?" she asked looking down the hallway, which curved sharply to the left a few metres down.

"It should be just around there." Mike said, sounding almost certain of himself. "The fuck away from here, anyway." He said, looking vaguely ill and turning the corner. Spying a door, he motioned her forward with the lighter. Lo and behold, there was the skull-crossbones-and-lighting logo indicating a power station. Mike kneeled down and looked at the keyhole.

"Normally I'd use the universal door opener." He said, indicating her gun. "But I'd like to be quiet about it as possible. You know how to pick a lock or something?"

Sherry smirked. "Course I do," was all she had to say on the subject. Digging in one of the smaller pouches of her knapsack, she removed a small pouch made of some water-resistant material, closed with a zipper. "Got my tools, too," she said, pleased.

From the pouch she removed two long metallic cylinders, one curved on one end like a very thin hook and the other ending in a tiny two-pronged fork.

With even hands, she inserted the forked end of the first rod into the keyhole, fishing around for a moment with her ear close. After she appeared satisfied, she carefully inserted the other. Although he couldn't see it, she was slipping the hooked cylinder's body between the two prongs of the first, using the prongs to carefully lift the locking mechanism and the hook to push the latch back so that when the mechanism's spring fell, it'd fall on nothing.

A few seconds and a series of pleasing clicks later and she jiggled the handle.

"Got it," she said with a grin.

"Knew you could." Mike said happily. "I'll never have to worry about losing my house keys again, as long as you're around." He winked and opened the door carefully. Nothing ate them, which was pleasant.

"Ladies and people with guns and lighters first." He said with mock chivalry.

"I don't have a lighter." He said easily. "Now move your delectable ass." Another grin and wink.

She mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like 'fuck you' and marched forward, using the pathetic light from the lighter to see exactly where to get around. The temperature of the room had changed drastically--the floor and walls going from insulated tile to pure concrete--and the signs on the walls said that the generator room was in the furthest northeast corner.

However, they did only have one way to turn, so the sign was useless anyway.

"Let's go," she said.

"Love to." He chuckled in response to her under-the-breath comment. "Lets." He agreed, ducking under some piping running along the ceiling.

Normally, Sherry supposed the room would have been sweltering--the piping no doubt lead to the twin gigantic furnaces that took up the majority of the room's space, and even now that the heater was defunct, the steam and water left over from the ventilation system had pooled at their feet. Droplets fell from cracks in the unwrapped pipes, unprepared for this sort of weather and the amount of rain, and Sherry twitched a bit.

"Water's fucking freezing," she commented as they took a small staircase down toward the end of the large room. The water now came almost to the tops of her boots.

"You have to be k-kidding me," she said with a groan.

"You're not wrong there." Mike said, taking a few tentative steps. "Well, the sooner it's over with, hey?" He said, and set off for the other end of the room.

Sherry did likewise, a disgusted look on her face as she felt something sludgy in the water beneath them. But she did not, would not stop to see what it was, and because it didn't immediately leap out and try to bite their faces off, it was fine to be completely disgusting as long as it was inanimate.

She approached the generator, a large orange monstrosity of tubes and tanks and gauges that was infinitely over her head.

"See if you can find a manual or something," she said, handing him the lighter.

He moved around carefully, waving their improvised torch around. No manuals.

"We'll have to wing it." He said at last.

Seeing as how there more than likely wasn't a series of instructions available, Sherry did the first logical thing that came to mind: she checked the generator's fuel tanks.

"Looks like the only reason it isn't working is they're empty," she said. "Do you know where they'd have replacements?"

Because for a complex this size, they undoubtedly would.

Mike pulled out his schematic of the building again, straining to see it by the feeble illumination provided by the lighter.

"Store room is... Thataway." He said, pointing into the shadows.

"Okay," she said, and then headed in that direction. "Oh fuck," she said, realising something. She clicked the lighter off. "I probably shouldn't carry an open flame around them... is there any way we can get light in there?"

Although it wasn't visible in the utter blackness, she looked a bit discouraged.

"All I have is a flare or two. Still dangerous."

"Fuck," she snarled, then said: "I guess I'll just try to feel my way around, then," she said lamely. "Well, at least it's not hard to tell what a fuel or propane tank is, even in the dark," she said with a nervous chuckle.

"They're very distinctive when you trip over them." He agreed, taking her hand and setting off in the direction indicated.

She walked slowly, the water rather difficult to simply stride through, and wasn't able to suppress a shiver as some of it spilled over inside her shoes.

They reached the door; she pushed it open (although that took quite a bit of effort due to the water pressure). They were still standing, so that looked like it was going well enough.

Mike ventured on, hands feeling in front of him. They brushed a section of piping that had buckled and fallen at some time in the last few months, and carried on until his shoes hit something with a reverberating thung.

"Ouch." He commented. "I think I've found one."

"Is it heavy?" she asked, "'Cause if they're only part-full then it won't do us much good..."

"Just a sec." Mike grabbed it and lifted, straining.

"It's fucking heavy." He concluded a minute later, panting.

"Use the water to your advantage," she said, "just drag it along the bottom in the water instead of lifting it over."

She felt around, grabbed another tank that rested beside it and pulled it through the water effortlessly.

"See? Legs, not arms."

"I was just checking to see if it was heavy." He muttered petulantly, dragging it through the water as instructed. There was a squish as he pulled it over the doorframe, but he decided he really didn't want to know.

"Okay. Now, how do we swap them?" He asked, fiddling with the controls. Something clicked, and the empty containers were released.

"Hey, I'm not useless at this!" He enthused, hauling out one of the empty containers.

"Your guess is as good as mine," she said with a grin. "I'll shine some light your way, but I'm gonna step back a bit. Just in case."

She leaned the full contained against the side of the generator, then took a few steps backward and flicked the lighter. The pathetic flame was hardly useful in the darkness, but it reflected just enough off the mechanics' surface to show Mike where to snap the full tanks into place.

"Lovely." He said, and, with considerable effort, hefted the full tanks and locked them into place.

"Uh." He said, standing back and peering at the controls. "Alakazam? Open Sesame?"

Sherry had moved closer to the control panel as well and was staring at it with a disgruntled expression.

"I don't get it!" she said, "the way everything looks set up... it looks like the damn thing should be running!"

She shoved the main generator power switch back and forth a few times. It sputtered, coughed, then nothing.

"It might be the goddamn water," she said morosely, leaning against the wall with a groan.

"Well, can we do anything about that?" Mike wondered aloud, looking around for a drain or something.

She shook her head, "I don't fucking know," she said with a sigh.

Mike flipped the switch himself, listening to the splutterings with irritation. "Oh, come on!" He growled, and kicked it repeatedly.

It worked. With a low hum that gradually got louder, the generator spun into life. After a minute, the flourescent lights flickered on dimly. Down the hallway, they could see more lights flashing on.

"Well, whatd'ya know." He said with a grin.

Then there was a terrible screeching noise, and a low moan echoed down the corridor.

[Cynical Cat]

Wendigo watched her as she probed his knee. "Not hurt," he said. At least not more than normal. His flesh was criss crossed with mostly healed wounds. Aches and pains was his default state.

[Caz]

She nodded, and then grimaced a bit as she inspected the snapped and hastily-repaired thighbone.

"We might have to break it again to set it right," she said.

Freddy approached with the first-aid supplies, and she took the box with a nod and a distracted murmur of thanks.

"I've got a splint in here," she said.

[Cynical Cat]

"Do it," he said.

[Caz]

She looked up to him with a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes.

"This is going to hurt," she said, "a lot."

Rummaging through the box, she handed him one of the smaller splints, usually used for humerus or shin fractures.

"Put this between your teeth so you won't bite your tongue."

[Cynical Cat]

He looked at it curiously and then put it in his mouth. He nodded.

[Caz]

And she stared at his leg with a puzzled look.

How the fuck was she supposed to re-break it? She doubted she weighed enough... but she'd try anyway. Carefully lifting his leg by the knee to get it at the right angle, she put her full body weight on the bone with a grunt, used her feet on the ground as leverage.

Finally, his femur gave way with a snap that sickened her.

"It'll be over in a second," she promised, hoping he understood.

Moving from the broken bone, she grabbed two splints, put one on the anterior and one on the posterior side, then pushed them as close together as she could without hurting him and proceeded to bandage them tightly together.

[Cynical Cat]

The pain was bad, but he new pain. As long as his leg healed, it would be good. He watched Melanie's motions carefully.

[Caz]

After the bandages had been wrapped, she then proceeded to pull a roll of tape and tape the makeshift cast in place.

"If they can get me some plaster, I can give you a better cast," she said. "Or is this enough?"

[Cynical Cat]

"Fine. At recently. I will heal quick."

[Caz]

She smiled. "Good, then," she said, and stood. A bit stupidly, she offered him her hand to help him to his feet. A ridiculous sight, considering her height and size in relation to his.

[Cynical Cat]

He ignored her, flexing his leg. After a minute or so he stood up. He put a little weight on it. He smiled at her. "Good work doctor. Thank you."

[Caz]

"You're welcome," she said. "It's the least I can do for bringing Silver and Carter back safely." As he stood, she was once again acutely aware of how short she was. How come everyone who had survived the damn outbreak was a head and a half taller than she was?

"They'll be back with your ammunition and the rest in a moment," she said, glancing back to the mall's roof.

[Cynical Cat]

He nodded.

[Caz]

Marley jogged up with the whetstone--unfortunately an artificial one, from a cooking supply store in the mall, but the best they had--and a can of oil.

"What type of ammo?" he asked. "Nine or forty-five is mostly what we've got..."

[Pcm979]

The Zombie Leader quickly sent his new recruits out, combing the area for the bodies of... His? Yes, his equals. They discovered the one Reaper had killed, and viciously tore it apart. Competition would be crushed, while it was still possible. Once another Leader amassed a similar force, they would turn back on the Mall.

---------- ---------- ---------- ---------- --------- --------- --------- ---------

Punt downed another set of painkillers. Probably way over the recommended dose, but he'd had an amazing tolerance for drugs since his death. The anticoagulant he hadn't touched. Who wanted thin blood right before a fuckin' battle?

He shoved the door to their impromptu planning room open. "Chief's out." He grunted. "We're 'n charge now."

[Cynical Cat]

He tapped his guns and his shotgun. Twelve gauge and nine millimeter by the look of them.

[Caz]

Melanie conveyed the information to Marley, who nodded. She then checked her own weapon, holstered at her thigh, and ejected the clip, pulling the two from her bandolier as well.

"Haven't got a use for them at the moment," she said. "The rest will be coming shortly."

She sighed a bit, scratched at the back of her neck.

"Unfortunately, we're running pretty low, too."