[new orleans is sinking]

[psychromaniac]

Major swung his arm around to point the pistol at one of the incoming zombies, but realized too late that its head had already been splattered across the wall. He swung his arm to another one. It was dead too. well, deader. By this time, The Militant realized that Ross was actually doing quite well for someone who was barely alive. Maybe he'd make a good hunter... But Major didn't have time to contemplate this, he was only a few feet away from the drivers side.

He pushed his way along the pavement, inching himself closer to the driver's side, and was less than 5 feet away when he heard something thump in the back of the truck. Major rolled over to see their medic returning....without Evan. Son of a bitch... Even though he was an asshole...and complained a lot...and did nothing around the island...Evan was still a person. Well, maybe not a person as much as someone who could swing a crowbar....But the point was that Major wouldn't let him die. Not anyone, not ever. Not since he left his family to die....

With some assistance from Ross, Major managed to crawl up into the driver's side of the truck. He jammed the keys into the ignition and rammed them forward. Come oooooooooooon, c'monc'monc'momc'monc'mon.... The contraption, though it had been fitted with spare parts salvaged from a junkyard not that far from Port Rhine, was still in less than exemplary condition. Major continued to jam it forward and the engine continued to screech. "Goddammit....you're harder to get moving than my teenage son in the morning was!" But still, it would not come to life.

Strangely enough, it was when a zombie flung itself onto the windshield that the truck roared back to life. Major gunned the car forward, sending the zombie sliding upwards and leaving a nasty blood-stain on the glass. Then he slammed down on the brakes, causing the undead monster to go flying into the wall, where its head splattered rather colorfully against the brick.

Major pulled the truck back into reverse and positioned it right in front of the alleyway, where a few zombies were located. The same five zombies who had taken notice of the roaring vehicle and began to charge towards him.

It was fortunate that by becoming part of the living dead, they had forgotten that man never wins in the battle between man vs. car.

Major gunned the Truck forward, rolling over one of the incoming zombies with a delightful crunch, clipping one and sending it flying into the wall, smacking one and sending it rolling over the top (right into whoever was in the back, he didn't have a chance to check behind him to see who it was.) and for the final contestant, he had won a spectacular death of being splattered in two as the truck hit its abdomen. Interestingly enough, the last one was a salesman, indicated by his name tag. Major hated salesmen.

The truck skidded a few feet in front of Evan, where he was holding off a few zombies. "Get in!!!" Major had only given him those two words when one particularly rude zombie started clawing at his door, managing to yank it loose with a few friends. He couldn't wait to make sure that Evan was in, he had to get out of there now.

Major slammed down on the gas with his right foot. Thank god this isn't a stick-shift. Ignoring the hordes of oncoming zombies, major swerved around the traffic of over-turned cars, narrowly avoiding contact with that crashed SUV, so Major wouldn't have to call his insurance agency. After a few close-calls, Major finally found a nice, flat road which he could speed as much as he wanted without a few of the zombie-cops caring. This was it. They had made it.

Until something slammed onto the back of the truck. All eyes turned in the direction of the impact, with the exception of Major's since he looked in the rear-view mirror. lo and behold, for the final nuisance of the day, it was an assaulter.

[βolt.]

Evan Fenley
Level One
Scavenger

With a yowl Evan jumped away from the claws of one of the creatures. Feeling that there was nothing else he could do with the monsters that were so close behind he and the Medic, the man had stopped to fight them. He didn't know where the Major and that blond kid had gone, and didn't think that running around aimlessly in search until they had no strength was a wise choice. He made sure that he had remained close to the overturned vehicle as a defense for one of his sides. Even if the bastards started to climb over the thing he'd heard them hitting and sliding against the smashed piece of rubble before they got to him, so he'd have a chance to react. However, as he was combating those that targeted him, one had managed to rake its claws down his left arm. Its dirty nails ripped their way through his suit and shirt, slicing his flesh and drawing blood. "Oh, you did not just wreck my suit!" He snarled angrily and swung his weapon downward at the corpse with both arms, but found his left one was now quite tender when it made any sort of movement. His target, however, did not get off easy anyway, and was knocked to the concrete. The Scavenger was pissed, and became absolutely livid when he turned his head to find the four-eyes had vanished. "Son of a bitch!" He couldn't hold back the cry of rage that tore itself from him as something charged for him from the alley, effectively qualifying himself as 'surrounded' when combined with the other zombies.

So, this was how it was going to be, huh? On his own, abandoned, and surrounded by zombies- things weren't looking too good for Evan. Major had always been looking out for him, despite the fact Evan was clearly an asshole, but he never bothered to think on it too much until he was all on his own- with only the creatures he was defending himself against and the cries of distant hoards to keep him company. What the hell was with that old man, anyway? He had this weird obsession with never leaving anyone behind. Every time they went on a mission together he always had Evan's back- even if the Scavenger didn't really have his in return. And what caused him to change his ways now? Evan was alone, fighting for his life, with no one there to help. Oh wait... that Ross kid. Even when it came to complete strangers the old war veteran just had to save everyone. He was busy with the injured man and probably didn't expect Evan to fall as far behind as he did.

With a vicious smack he turned on the creature that emerged from the alley, and hooked the crowbar into its skull. That would have been all fine and dandy but... it got stuck! And the zombie wasn't dead! "Shit!" With all his might Evan struggled to get his only defense out of the attacker's head; he yanked at the bar and kicked at the monster with a foot, but all the while it was attacking right back! Reaching for and tearing at his chest. Then from the previous direction the other four zombies were moving in to rip his back apart! He was doomed-

Oh, hello there, Mr. Pickup.

Major, driving his beloved piece-of-crap truck, appeared before him. It was like God himself sent the old fart! The hardly useable vehicle pulled up in front of him, seemingly out of nowhere, knocking most of his attackers away. Knowing they had to go Evan wasted no time in forcing his foot into the torso of the flesh-eater in front of him for the added leverage in pulling his crowbar free. And just like that it came out, flicking questionable fluids all over the place and adding to the destruction of his poor suit. The zombie stumbled away as his precious brain-basher came loose. Without bothering to check the fate of it the man fled for his ride and threw himself into the back of the pickup, climbing in just before it started to move away. In the nick of time he was saved. Lying on his front he held on to nothing for dear life, not wanting to slip off as the speed accelerated. Dark eyes wandered to find the blonde man and... the Medic back there with him. "Bastard..." His insult was grumbled lowly and into the surface of the truck, however, so it would have been near impossible to hear over the roar of the truck at high speeds.

It was pretty awful back there. Evan hated riding in the back. Slowly he was pulling himself up to the back window, but found it insanely difficult with all the crazy maneuvers Major was pulling off. He was practically sliding all over the back, and even slid right into the other two young men that were stuck there with him! "Hey, you wanna slow down!?" He was still on his front and quite unhappy about the dirt that was sticking to him from the crawl. Could the pickup be any dirtier!? But then finally the road felt like it was smoothing out, and Evan pulled himself up to the wall separating the back from the seats in the front. There is where he propped himself up, back against the window. He didn't bother to make sure the other two were hanging in there okay so whatever happened to them was their problem. He had nothing to do with it. He just didn't care as long as they were home free! Nothing could get them now! Evan had survived yet another mission! Hah! Take that whoever said he wouldn't last five minutes out there!

And then the Assaulter hoped on for a ride. Eyes quickly widened with terror as Evan hollered and attempted to struggle to his feet with the help of a hand on the roof. "Someone push that thing off!" He pressed his back against the window, probably blocking their leader's view of what was going on. But he couldn't help it; he was in shock! The thing was huge! Assaulters were nothing but pure speed and muscle! It could easily send all the men flying to their deaths! However, they were also stupid, so hopefully it wouldn't be expecting them to try defending themselves... He held his bar out in front, horizontally, with both hands as some sad attempt at a defensive stance "Maybe we should all push- Ahh!" He cut himself short and ducked as the stupid-beast let out an angry roar and stumbled around the back, swiping his huge-ass arms at their little, frail human bodies.

Word Count: 1040
Total Money: $3,887
Total Experience: 1469
Comments: Edited. The first version wasn't read over, and so sucked harder than this one. Hurr.

[Indeh]

Sebastian's vague voice only barely registered in his mind as the red-haired boy sprinted by with his crow bar raised like he was about to go samurai on some zombie ass. Somethin' about not being well. Oh well, whether or not he was too fragile to fight didn't exactly matter; as he'd be doing so anyway if he planned on getting out alive. He gave the medic a short nod, before hurriedly pulling the Major over to the truck and helping him into the driver's seat, much to the unhappiness of his already screaming muscles. He turned, vision giving another trembling fuzz as he pulled himself blindly along using the car as leverage. He could already hear the motor roaring to life, and panicked.

Ross latched onto the side of the truck, struggling to pull himself up and over into the back, where he landed with a thud on the uncomfortable floor. Just as he found some stability, the truck surged forward, causing him to slide to the other side of the back, only to be tossed back as the pickup gave an aprupt halt. This proceeded to warrant a stream of swear words. And then it repeated itself, once again throwing the already battered boy to the side, where he held onto the edge in hopes that he might not be completely chucked off the truck. His moss-green eyes were squeezed shut, his nose wrinkled slightly as thet smell of burning rubber floated by, accompanied by the screeech of tires. Only when he felt the road go smooth did he open his eyes. Pulling himself gently into a sitting position in one corner, he let his bleary eyes shift around, finding everyone had miraculously made their way into the truck. He frowned at Evan as he cursed the Medic quietly, but couldn't quite make his vocal chords work to form a retort. "H-hey--" he began, staring at the pair through half-lidded eyes.

Too bad there was no time to finish his sentence; there was yet another damn thing on the back of the car. Ross was pretty sure he'd never seen anything so right-damn ugly or fierce looking in his life. It's eyes were hollowed and burning with mindless hatred as it climbed its way into the truck bed, ready to beat apart the humans with it's mighty fists. The deformed zombie gave a howling caterwaul before advancing on them; appearing as three blurry grey forms in ross' eyes.

The beast swung his massively muscled arms, sending Ross skidding backward into Evan. The freckled boy winced, feeling a sharp pain rocket up his spine as his back impacted with the ridge just beneath the window. "S-sorry!" he managed, dragging himself away from the older man with a grimace. Breathing still coming out in ragged gasps, he pushed himself onto his knees, reaching out for the pipe he had left innocently discarded by the other side of the truck bed. He crawled forward, only to watch the object roll just out of reach as his fingers brushed it. "S-shit," he hissed, tumbling forward and right in front of the thing. And there it was, his weapon of mass destruction; he scooped it up and threw as much force as he could muster into driving it into the zombie's side. The Assaulter seemed hardly effected, and proceeded to knock him off his feet with one swoop of his fist. For a moment he panicked, not feeling anything but air for that whole half-a-second, before he realized he had been tossed off the side, and was clinging desperately to the space between the door and the truck bed. "Shove't off!" He shouted desperately, voice cracking at the strain.

[xαяку]

With his arms screaming in torment as his weapon pounded into the side of another zombie's cheek, Sebastian whirled around as he heard the engine of the truck start up, his moment of kick-assery all but forgotten as he realized the piece of crap was moving. Away from him. Oh no, he wasn't getting left behind again, not now! The man growled and darted forwards, leaning down to scoop up his bag in his trembling arms before he surged forwards, watching as Ross crawled over before he too crashed into the vehicle, hitting the railing so hard it knocked the wind from his chest and and left him crumpled face down beside the other man, groaning in pain. Then he slid into the wall, slamming his back into the railing again before rolling to bump against the newcomer once more, whining a hoarse apology as he peered upwards though glasses knocked askew by the falling and the rolling.

And, oh look, Evan was back.

"Bastard..." That asshole muttered, and in response Seb flicked up a hand and flashed him a rude hand gesture before he sat up and shifted over to look at Ross, shifting from irritated to concerned as he clucked his tongue and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I tried to get there sooner, you shouldn't have had to fight them..." He said as he readjusted his lenses and swallowed hard, feeling guilty over not ditching Evan quicker.

He probably would've continued apologizing for another good ten minutes, but there was a yell from Evan, a sudden frenzied attempt at attacking from Ross, and by the time he realized there was an Assaulter right behind him the flesh-eater's arm was on the return path, smashing him in the head and knocking him flat on his back. Oh he did not need this right now - he was bleeding, in freaking agony, and now he'd split his head open! For fuck's sake, not a good time for injuries! Seb winced in pain and rolled over, forcing himself to his feet and wiping the blood from his face, grunting as it was replaced milliseconds later by the ever-flowing stream from his skull. Having heard Ross's request about shoving the bastard off, the man leaned back and gripped his pack, slipping his arms through the straps and clipping it at his chest at a speed he didn't know possible, before he breathed in, glared at that ugly ass mother fucker...

And charged.

He hit the Assaulter square in the chest, quite literally bouncing off as the zombie flailed its arms, rolling backwards to lie slumped in the corner, his bag having rolled off his shoulder and lying at his side, obscuring his face with the help of his arms and messy hair. Sebastian didn't look up as the creature gave a guttural snarl of horror and slipped backwards, out of the truck to splatter on the dark tar of the road. No, only when the truck had righted itself and was smoothly on course again did he peer up, his face pale, eyes half lidded and dull, splattered with blood and fluid from the zombies. With a low sigh he dragged himself to sit, slumped forwards, and sort through his bag, squinting past the blood of his head injury as he grabbed another roll of bandages with shaky hands. "Right...lemmee...taygahlookitdoesbandages, Ross.." The Aussie slurred breathlessly, however making no move over to them for fear of rolling off the back of the truck or something, considering how his day was going.

[psychromaniac]

The shift in weight from the front of the truck--where it usually was--to the back lifted the front wheels of the truck so that it was resting on its back wheels. Major peered around the hinge of the missing door to get a look at the elevated wheels. They weren't high enough to cause the vehicle to tilt backwards, but they had been lifted just enough above the ground that the front wheels spun uselessly as he slammed on the gas. Major looked backwards to see the assaulter swing his arm and send Evan crashing into the wall separating the driver's cabin and the bed of the truck.

Major pulled his head back forward with an agitated face. Of all the things they had just gone through, to die like this would be a slap in the face to his great record as a military veteran. He pulled out his pistol. Empty. He looked back around to see if his baseball bat would be of any use. Too far. He looked back at the front wheels. Still too high. Well, shit.

Major laid his head back onto the seat rest and closed his eyes, accepting his death. Barely a second had passed when his eyes came flying back open as the front of the vehicle slammed back onto the ground. Major twisted his head around to see the assaulter falling off the back of the truck, but getting back up quickly as it made to charge them again. The veteran wouldn't let it do that. A second later, Major pressed down on the gas as the truck slowly gained speed and barreled down the road. For the first few seconds, the assaulter looked as though it would jump back on the car for round two. But after those few tense moments, the truck proved to still be useful and sped them away, allowing them to live another day.

Once major was sure the group was several miles away from the dangerous city, he slowed the truck to a stop, put the parking break on, and turned the vehicle off to rest for a while. Then Major slumped into the seat and closed his eyes as he regained his composure. Looks I'll have to die another day then... The militant ran through the events in his mind as he ignored the three bickering in the back. In this case, they were extremely lucky that they had found each other when they did, since Major was sure they wouldn't have been able to not only survive, but bring back Ross as well. Each person contributed in some way, and though they had their differences, Major was sure they would work it out somehow. They always did. He cracked a smirk as he was reminded of his old battalion back in Vietnam. Those boys were the worst bunch of slacker I had ever met... He gave a sigh. ....But they were the finest bunch of men I had ever seen....

The veteran cracked open his eye at the clicking and blinking light on the dashboard. Outta gas. He closed his eyes again, then leaned his head to the side so he could talk to the boys in the back. "Hey, could one of you three throw some more gas into the tank? My hip's out and I still can't move. There's some spare canisters in the back." He moved his head forward again. Now was the easy part. Just getting back to the port and calling up the boat to come and pick them up. They would send a dozen or so people to clear out the docks so they could get back in the boat. This process ended up being the dullest, as the area had long-since been repelled of zombies with some sort of solution. No one knew what the solution was or where to get it, since all the data on the undead was somewhere in the labs, along with any research on a cure of some sort. We'll get there some day...

Major pulled out another cig and lit it before resting his head back again. He could hear the gas tank being filled up. He didn't care who did it, as long as it got done. Once the canister was empty and the truck's tank full, he looked back behind him to make sure he had everyone. 1...2...oh, yes...3 He looked forwards again and grunted. Another mouth to feed. At least this one proved to be useful, compared to some of the others which he had met, who proved to be little more than food-dumps before they got eaten. Or turned. Didn't matter, they were kinda wimps anyway.

Major took a moment to enjoy his cig for a second more before turning the car back on again and driving down the road again. He was still kind of pissed at the two for leaving him behind, and he would make sure the proper punishments were carried out. Evan hated getting his suits dirty, so Major knew to give him some sort of job involving filth. Maybe I should of made him clean out the latrine... And Seb wasn't exactly physically strong as the other two, so it was reasonable that he do five laps around the island. Could have been worse. Could have been Major's customary morning ten. The former officer took a moment to reflect on himself. What would MY proper punishment be...? Didn't matter now. That was thinking reserved for the island.

Major would have to rmember to take a shower once he got there.