Urban Dead: The Price of the Oath

[Josh]

"Him, I'm not worried about," he said sourly. "He always comes back. People like him don't die..."

He made a rare concession to tact and didn't conclude the sentence as originally planned- 'soon enough to suit anyone.'

"...it's the others," he concluded after a long pause.

[Caz]

"Mike, Sherry?" she asked. "Those two seem like they're more than capable... And as for the new ones... Steve and Ace seemed to be doing well with them," in the small time she'd seen it, that is.

[Josh]

"They're quite good at what they do. Possibly even the best in the city. But..." he shrugged again. "You're worried and I'm worried. If they don't come back, I'll have to get used to new people."

[Cynical Cat]

Wendigo walked through the rubble and around the milling groups of zombies. He slung a mangled corpse over each shoulder and headed for his roost. Time to hang so more meat.

[Caz]

"I know it doesn't sound like much, as I've not much experience in the militia field," she said quietly, "but I'll do what I can. You didn't see the state I was in when I came here," a brief cough, "but mall or no mall, these people trust me as much as they've helped me..."

And that idea in and of itself was incredulous.

"I thought the idea was stupid to begin with. Suicidal. A damn fortress... But here I am, ready to bleed for queen and country, so to speak."

She chuckled. "Here we are, the both of us."

[Josh]

"I did see you when you came in. A bit malnourished, but you seemed otherwise to be well enough," he pointed out.

[Caz]

She laughed a bit. "Well then I hid it well," she said. "I was just about ready to go crazy and climb up a tower to snipe people or something," she confessed. "Or at least have a nervous breakdown."

A pause as she considered it.

"I was a lot weaker then," she said. "Not because I wasn't strong but because I didn't want to be. Coming here gave me a reason to fight for something more than staying alive. But not because of the place," she said.

[Josh]

"As I said, he's a crusader. He makes people believe, when all other rational evidence points in the other direction."

[Caz]

"Yeah," she said quietly, "that he does."

And then, a rather bizarre question, considering who exactly was posing it to whom:

"Am I wrong for loving him?" she asked. "Will this end badly?"

[Josh]

He turned to her, shock on his face. "What on Earth makes you think that I'm the man to ask about something like that?"

He took a deep breath, collecting himself. "I'm... sorry," he apologized reluctantly. "It's just that I don't know what to say to that. Falling in love and getting pregnant are perfectly natural things that much of the human race seem to find perfectly reasonable things. Why would it be wrong?"

[Caz]

"Not wrong because of what's happening," she said pensively, "wrong because it's him."

She turned back toward the mall and rested her back on the safety railing, folding her arms as she canted her head in thought.

"I'm worried it might interfere with his duties here," Melanie confided, looking across the plane of the roof. "After all, wanting to protect me is perfectly normal human behaviour. But he can't forget his commitments here. I mean, he obviously doesn't have to choose between being a leader and being a husband, but I'm afraid he may make it that way."

[Josh]

"Oh, that? He's not the first man to have to protect home, hearth, and castle. If anything, it's likely to make him behave less stupidly," Zimmerman said bluntly.

[Dark Silver]

As Zimmerman and Melanie spoke on the roof, in the infirmary, Silver laid out unconcious in one of the makeshift bunks. The man's body was laced with cuts and bruises from the explosion and sharpnel, one or two cuts from zombie claws, but his legs had taken the most, srips of flesh had simply disappeared between the explosion, and when he had checked himself and began crawling away.

Since he had been brought into the mall, still unconcious, he had never stirred, not even when they pumped him full of more blood to replace what he lost. They tried to bring him out of whatever state he was in, waking him up, but it wqas useless.

He was lost within himself, seemingly far far away from whatever problems exsisted in the real world.

[Dark Silver]

----Mornington Suburb, Malton City, 4 years ago----

The car rolled down the street at a snails pace, windshield wipers brushing away the evenings rain. It had been a quiet night, and he was making his way along his patrol, when he got the call, a complaint at a bar, public intoxication and rowdiness.

He figured it was just some soccer hooligans getting loud before the big game tomorrow, Manchester U vs Chamsberburg U, with everyone expecting it to be a blowout, so he picked up the speed, turns on his flashers and let the sirens run code.

He pulled up to the bar a few minutes later, when he parked and made his way in, his pistol still in the holster. Whatever it was, didn't seem to be happening anymore, there was no fight, though there was broken furniture.

"Thank goodness your here officer," one of the patrons spoke up, "He left just aftr we called for you, he ran around the alley.

"One man did this?" Silver raised a eyebrow at that. One man couldn't cause all the broken furniture, and general mayhem.

He spent a few minutes getting the story, before he moved to follow down the alley, maybe the other guy would still be there.

The ground was nice and cool on his battered face. He'd rolled once to get out of the puddle of vomit, knowing that it wasn't good to lay in one's own vomit, then landed on his face again. He really didn't plan on moving much, feeling as he could a lot of rather disassociated aches and pains. Besides, nobody would bother him here. He was just going to drift off to sleep.

Silver made his way slowly down the dark alley, using his flashlight to lluminate the path ahead. He was slow, not trusting to make a mistake, if the guy was in here, he wanted to at least not give him the hint that someone was on him. That is, until, his foot made a splash in a puddle of water.

He groaned, shaking his head as he panned the light around, no use in giving it the stealthy approach, "Is someone down there? Better speak up now, hate to have a row with you in a dark alley if you surprise me"

He lifted his head and murmured "Go 'way!" in a distinctly rude fashion.

He was taken aback by the voice, it sounded familiar, to familiar actually. On a lark, he turned the flashlight off, and called out, "Petro? That you mate? If it is, come out where I can see you"

The voice burned through his sodden brain. Ah fuck, Derek. He lifted himself to his knees. "Don' worry 'bout it!" he said. "'M fine. Jus' on the way home." He had the rather nonsensical notion that Derek was here to get him back to his home. Not that he actually had one at the moment, other than the motel room he was renting. Which he wasn't entirely sure of the location of at the moment.

Darek cranked the flashlight over to the source of the voice, and sure enough, there was Petro. "What the bloody hell mate" He jogged the rest of the way towards Petro, reaching down to grab the man's arm to help him up.

"What the bloody hell happened, you the one who caused all that ruccus in the bar?"

He blinked. OH FUCK, Darek was a cop. He'd forgotten that in his stupor. And on duty and everything. "Not me, officer," he said innocently, rather oblivious to his bloody face, broken nose, and missing tooth contributing to this being the weakest lie ever.

Darek shook his head, looking the man over, shaking his head. The nose looked broken, his face like so much pudding, and he could distinctly smell the vomit on him.

"Fucking disgusting..." he muttered, as he straightened Petro up. "What the hell is wrong with you? You know how much trouble your getting into with this? You know how much damn paperwork this wll cause me?"

"I din't start it. Bastard called me Irish. 'M not fuckin' Irish," he snarled. "Not," he said after a moment. "That I got anything 'gainst the Irish, no sir." But it was as good an excuse as any to take a swing.

Darek shook his head, almost wanting to chuckle, Petro's temper was well known to him, even back in college the man would be ready to fight over anything. Still....

"Bloody hell Petro....you can't just go around trashing a bar because someone called you Irish...besides we all know your French"

He supported Petro as he said that, one arm around the man's back, as the arm was tossed over his shoulder, "Come on, let's get you outta this alley...."

He leaned on Darek heavily. "You're gonna dump me on my face," he said accusingly. "I 'member how this works..."

He sighed, shaking his head, "No...I'm not going to dump you on your face....I don't feel like filling out thirty peices of paper with your damn last name on it...it'll give me the writers cramp something fierce. I'll settle with the folks inside the bar, settle things with them, and get you back home....."

Darek supported his friend easily as he walked him to the car, a few cheers from the bar itself telling him the people inside, though he had beaten up Petro, and was arresting him. Well, in a sense he was......

"Get in the back, and we'll take you home to get cleaned up lad..."

He lurched into the backseat, rolled onto his side, and promptly passed out.

Darek shook his head, closed the door, and walked back to the bar. He spent ten minutes getting the "eye witness accounts" and settling stories, and promising the owners that Petro would be spending at least a night in lockup, before going see a Magistrate in the morning.

Of course it was all a lie, he had no intention of taking Petro downtown.

He slammed the door as he climbed back in the patrol xcar, and started up the engine. He looked back over to Petro, and shook him, "Wake up, tell me where I'm taking you"

"Huh?" he said, jolting awake. He blinked, then shrugged. "Dunno. Inn. Forgot the name."

"Doesn't bloody well do much good does it then?"

Darek sighed, and put the car in reverse, backing out, then pulling down the street, "Take a nap....I'll bring you home"

"Okay," he said. "Made a real mess in there, Darek," he murmured. "Should see the other guys."

"You won't be taking home any beauty contests yourself Pet.....get some sleep..."

He radio'd the station he was heading home, he'd file the paperwork for the bar in the morning.

It was a hour later when the car finally stopped infront of Darek's house, a modest two story townhouse in Grigg Heights

Petro snored loudly in the backseat. Every so often, he'd stir and murmur when the car would hit a bump, then settle back down to snoring.

Darek was quiet as he got out the car, closing the door with nary a sound, and walked up the steps. When he walked in, he called out, "Jamie, be a dear and run a hot bath love, we're having a guest for tonight."

"And who would that be Darekk?" Jamie's accent always had that charming way of stressing the k in his name.

"Just Petro...." he answered as he closed the door, and made his way back to the car. He opened the back passenger's door, and settled himself in the seat, best he could next to Petro's head. He waited a few minutes, holding his breath, before exhaling, and with it, passing a bit of gas to help wake the man up.

After a moment, the snoring stuttered out as he shook his head. "The fuck... died in here?" he murmured. Even with his broken nose, that scent was overpowering.

Darek tried not to chuckle, as he kept his head out of the car, "Wake up and get inside, you bloody bastard"

"Alright, alright, I'm comin'," he said. "Fucking chemical warfare," he muttered. The sleep had cleared his head a little, and he had regained some of his balance. Some, at least. He leaned on the car. "Hey, this your place?" he asked, the sequence of events jumbled in his head.

Darek shook his head, cracking a grin at Petro, "You act like you never been here before....come on, got Jamie running a bath for you Red" Silver used the nickname from thier time in college, as he moved up the steps

"Bath sounds good," he agreed, ambling along agreeably. The fight was out of him for the moment, and he was an entirely pleasant drunk.

"Come on Suzafocker" Darek shook his head, waiting for Petro to catch up, before he opened the door to the home. The smell of chicken wafted from the kitchen, the stew Jamie was cooking for thier supper. "Don't make much noise, I think Chad's sleeping"

"Hi Jamie," Petro said pleasantly, smiling a gappy-toothed grin at her. "Don't mind me, I'll just be getting washed off and heading out."

Darek shook his head, as Jamie corrected Petro, "No, your going to get washed up, put on some of Darek's clothes, and come down for supper. Your not going back anywhere tonight Petro"

Darek grinned, Jamie taking charge as she led the larger man upstairs, almost pulling him by that flaming red hair.

"Good to see you too," he said. "Y'know, Darek's a lucky motherfucker. Pardon my language, I am with the drink. That is to say, I'm drink."

"Yes yes, your drink, your always drunk Petro..." Jamie began to lecture him, as she led him into the bath off of thier bedroom. After she had shown him the soap and towels, she popped out before coming back in, putting a pair of jeans and a button down shirt on the dresser, "I don't think any of Darekk's knicker's will fit, but I'll have your clothing washed in the morning"

With that, she was gone again, leaving him to clean up.

He winced as he looked at the mirror. He reached out to touch the image of his battered face. "You... are one hell of a fuckup," he muttered at his image. He rapped his knuckle on the mirror, shaking his head, before he began the laborious process of undressing himself and preparing to wash up.

Jamie checked on Chad, then went back downstairs, sitting down next to her husband. "What happened to him Darek? Why'd you bring him?"

And with that, Darek told his wife about his evening, the call to the pub, and finding Petro in the alley, and how he didn't even know what inn he was staying at.

"The man's been my best friend, hell, my brother since College, Jamie. He served as my best man, and he's Chad's godfather...he's apparently hitting hard times...We've gotta help him out."

"Aaaaaah aaaaaah aaaaaah!" he said loudly as he dipped his face under the hot water and came back out, his nose burning. "Holy Jesus fuck," he gasped. That was just the sort of thing to sober a man up a good bit. It wasn't the most meticulous or organized bathing experience, but he muddled his way through it, then dressed himself. Darek's pants wouldn't fit worth a damn as she'd said, and he had to hold onto the excess length of belt to keep them from falling off. He felt like a kid playing at grownup as he stumbled out into the hallway and down toward the dining room.

Petro would have came down on the tailend of thier conversation, "offer him the spare bedroom....show we're still here for him...."

He coughed loudly to announce his arrival, before stepping around the corner. He looked like something resembling a human being, albeit a battered one. "Hey," he said quietly.

Jamie had just set the table, three bowls of chicken stew and hot rolls, at the table, as Darek was coming back in with three cups.

Darek grinned at him, and motioned him to settle at the table.

He settled down at the table, staring at the food. He was hungry, but he wasn't entirely sure of his ability to hold it down. He sat there staring, before finally speaking. "Thanks," he said.

The pair both smiled as they began to eat, Darek watching Petro, "What happened Red?"

arek didn't mean just tonight, but what happened to him.

He took a tentative taste of stew, waiting to see if it stayed with him. After a moment, he took another. Putting the spoon back in the bowl, he looked at Darek through a swollen eye. "Another one bites the dust," he said, shrugging. "She didn't even tell me. Had a courier from the lawyer give me the paperwork at the station."

"You have the worst choices in women Pet..." he said, setting the spoon down. Jamie didn't say a word, just listened to them.

"I told you she wasn't the right girl, Jamie told you she was trouble, hell, Brand even said she hit on him before the wedding....why didn't you listen to us?"

He shrugged. "Seemed like the thing to do at the time." He took another spoonful of stew. "Didn't think it'd work out like that."

Darek shook his head, "Well....that makes what..number two?"

He took a drink from his glass, and watched him, "Where are you staying at? Not your apartment, pretty sure the bitch done took it from you"

"Fu..." he glanced at Jamie. "Hell if I can remember. The Inn down by the station, it's good and cheap."

Jamie nodded in approval, "Thank you Petro."

"Got someplace even cheaper for you" Darek said, "Your going to move in here, we have that extra bedroom. just till you can get back on your feet..."

He shook his head. "No, I can't do that. You already stuck your neck out enough for me."

"This ain't open to negotiations." Darek said sternly, "I can explain it away at the station, nothing will come up about tonight there. But be damned if your going to suffer in a rathole. Besides, Chad would love to have you around, he hasn't seen you in awhile."

His head drooped. "I've been a real fu... screwup, guys. Again." Why the hell did people keep pulling him out of his messes, anyway?

"Yeah, and your family. So pull your head out of your ass" It was Jamie who spoke up, doing something rare, swearing, "and see that we want to help you"

He nodded once. "I'll pay room and board," he said, looking at them with stubborn determination. He might be out of home, but he wasn't out of work. Mostly thanks to Darek, because he was in another one of those 'bad odor' phases with upstairs in the Fire Service. He tended to alternate between being the golden boy and the whipping post.

Darek and Jamie looked at each other, then back to Petro. "Alright....that's fine" Jamie answered, "Darek will take you tomorrow after work to get your things from the Hotel. "

Darek smiled, reached over and patted Petro on the back, lightly, "And we'll take you to the surgeons to see about that face of yours tomorrow morning. Welcome home."

"Thanks guys," he said. "I'll be quiet. You won't even know I'm here." Only half-smashed could he tell such a blatant lie with such utter sincerity.

"Don't worry about it" Darek said, before he went back to eating.

[Caz]

"God, I hope you're right," she said with a chuckle. Because if there was one thing she knew, it was that she was the best chance at calming him the fuck down once in a while.

And she was suddenly struck by how strange their situation was, yet again. Thinking about things like families and evening out workloads when only a month before, all she'd cared about was making it through the day without ending up a chew toy for one of her former mates or coworkers.

[Josh]

"We're not the first people to face situations like these. Well, the particulars of our specific position are unique," he waved at the defensive lines. "But human beings have lived under stresses like these for countless generations. Worried about food, basic survival, pressured by enemies on all sides. One could really say it's far more our natural condition than the fruits of industrial society that we've been enjoying."

[Caz]

"I was thinking about that the other day, actually," she said. "How it's funny that people are calling this the 'end of the world' like just because humanity's modern comforts are gone means that the planet would cease to exist."

Laughing a bit, she continued:

"Population bottlenecks go hand in hand with having a population. Sometimes they're caused by polar cap shifts or ice ages or in this case pure human fuckery... But people don't seem to realise that one goddamn island, no matter what happens on it, isn't going to hurt the planet any more than it'd hurt someone living on the moon."

[Josh]

He looked over at her. "So long as the outbreak stays confined to the island," he said. "Otherwise, it could well be the fall of modern human civilization."

[Caz]

"And even if we do everything we can, try our hardest, and it spreads?" she asked with a shrug. "Sometimes extinction happens."

She paused for a long moment, mulling over something in her head.

"Then again, they might not have even kept it contained this far. Something tells me that if they'd had no problem keeping the island quarantined, they'd just incinerate it."

[Josh]

"I, for one, do not plan to be part of the last generation of the human race," he said. "If we have to rebuild from here, we will."

[Caz]

"I don't think a one of us does," she said. "Not while I have my child to look after."

There was a long silence as she watched a few of the militiamen wander out onto the rooftop for a smoke. They were talking in hushed tones, undoubtedly worried.

"But I don't think it's up to us, in the end," she said.

[Josh]

"We handle all the factors we can," he said. "We turn everything to our advantage, and we never give up." There was almost an angry tinge to his words, his balled fist thumping lightly on the brick. He wasn't trying to be inspirational, he was revealing an underlying anger and determination. For whatever his faults in people relations, the man had steel inside.

[Caz]

"Even if, in the end, it doesn't matter to humanity, it matters to us." She said in affirmation. A gust of wind blew up, she tightened the collar of her coat.

"Hopefully the snow will slow 'em down a bit," she said. "Even if they can't feel pain, their joints will be hard pressed to work."

[Josh]

"Hadn't thought of that," he said. "I wonder if there are other applications we could try out with that..."

[Caz]

She thought about it.

"I'm really not sure. Of course, if it snows enough then they might not be able to make the trudge all the way out here... They don't generate any body heat, so it's entirely possible that they might just... Freeze up."