The Last Stand

[pheliskougra]

It's a dark stormy night might be a cliché in story-telling, but it's also stark reality now: the patter of heavy rain and the crack of thunder rousing you to conscience.

You are inside your sedan, face-first into the deployed airbag. Your chest hurts a little from the yanking of the seatbelt, but besides that minimal discomfort you seem uninjured.

The car is halfway into a ditch beside the road, the left-side light still on. The engine is stopped, and the whole of the car is askew, stuck in an odd angle. There's a crack on the windshield, passenger side, and the rain is washing off what seems to be blood.

You remember... a person, running into the road right in front of you. No time to stop, and you only had a glimpse before hitting the person, losing control of the car and crashing.

Probably you should do something about your current situation.

Who are you?

Why were you going to Union City?

Comments

[aeons_crackshot]

"Well, SHIT!" Annabelle grumbles. "Knew I should have packed the shotgun."

Right. First things first: find someone neither dead nor undead and find out what the hell happened.

Oh, and head-shot any zombies that are trying to munch on her along the way.

[pheliskougra]

Older shamblers, young adult shamblers, teenage shamblers, all lurching and groaning and looking for a snack. A good headshot is all you need, to stop them.

You have 48 rounds of ammunition left.

Turning into Smith Street (seriously, who names those things?) you see a sign spray-painted on the asphalt. The same sign is painted on a house across the street.

The house... well, it seem to have been reinforced, a chainlink and barbed wire fence set up, bars in the windows and steel shutters, a barred gate bolted to the wall over the doors.

[aeons_crackshot]

Someone looks appropriately paranoid! Maybe there's someone alive in there, or at least weapons to be looted.

Annabelle eyes the fence, looking for a way in.

[pheliskougra]

Well, there's a gate and... an intercomm? Well, it does hint at survivors, right?

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle moves to press the intercom button. "Candygram!"

Yeah, sorry. Someone saw that Saturday Night Live skit for the first time recently.

[pheliskougra]

Buzz, crackle, and a male voice, uncertain. "Hello? Who's there?"

[aeons_crackshot]

"Annabelle Newfield," she announces. "Got into a car accident on the way here, and now I'm wondering where the hell all the zombies came from."

[pheliskougra]

"Well, we're all sort of wondering the same, lady." The man gives a bitter chuckle, and the lock on the gate clicks open. "Come on in, but be careful to shut the gate well after you enter."

[aeons_crackshot]

"Oh, you can count on that," Annabelle replies with a sharp smile. "I'm already getting damn tired of putting down corpses."

She opens the door and goes on through.

[pheliskougra]

As you approach the house, the door and security gate are opened by a gray-haired tall man who regards your presence with curiosity. "Hello, I'm Jackson Hall. Welcome to what's left of Pinedale."

[aeons_crackshot]

"Good to see someone alive for a change," she says with a grim smile and an extended hand. "Annabelle Newfield, at your service."

[pheliskougra]

He shakes your hand firmly. "Come in and meet the others." Jackson steps from the entrance, allowing you inside the house.

There are three people in the living room: a balding, short man, a tall, strong one with a buzzcut, and a pretty young woman with cropped black hair. Jackson introduces them as Ed Boone, Ed's son, Ted Boone, and the woman as Monica Anderson.

"Ray, Peter and Sarah are upstairs. And... I guess that's all." Seven people.

Out of a few thousand at least who lived in the area.

[aeons_crackshot]

Please excuse Annabelle's French. And Italian, Hindi, Swahili, Cantonese, German, Spanish.....

She mutters a veritable dictionary of profanity and then sighs. "It's good to meet all of you, it's just...." she apologizes. She expected more people to be alive, you see.

[pheliskougra]

The balding man, Ed, can not help it but chuckle at your tirade. "I know the feeling. It still feels unreal, three days ago it was an all normal day, and now..." Then he frowns, fiddling with his wedding band. His son places a hand on Ed's shoulder.

Jackson shakes head. "We're holding on better than most. Are you hungry or thirsty? HERC left us supplies for a few hundred people, my basement is packed."

While this, Monica's looking out the front window, frowning.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle catches Monica's frown, so she turns to see what Monica's looking at out the window.

[pheliskougra]

Nothing, just the empty street...

Jackson notices that, and speaks up. "Monica's husband is inside the city proper... she wants to go in to find him."

Ted Boone speaks up too. "Most of the... zombies, moved there. The army blocked the bridge over the Union River with barbed wire, and the shamblers just went thru the water. HERC is trying to set up blockades to contain whatever is causing this."

Monica looks at them all. "I'm going as soon as morning comes. I'm going to find Steven, no matter what."

[aeons_crackshot]

"Not by yourself, you're not," Annabelle says with a shake of her head. "I don't suppose you've got a shotgun around here somewhere, do you?"

Yes, she's volunteering to go into town. We never said she was SANE.

[pheliskougra]

The people are surprised at your offer, and Monica is the first to speak up. "Hm, no. I have my gun." She pulls from the right pocket of her hoodie a PPM9... how cute.

No, seriously, with that little 'peashooter', even you would be hard pressed to drop a zombie.

"We could check the police precinct, they might have left something there." Ted speaks up again. "Also, there's that hunting and fishing store on the Old Road."

Jackson gives a nod. "I think we all could use some weapons... those going and those staying. And extra ammo too." He gestures to a small table near the door where a Death Adder .45 revolver is resting, at hand for quick use.

[aeons_crackshot]

Annabelle gives the wee PPM9 a LOOK. "You can't go wrong with more weapons and ammo," Annabelle agrees.

This may be Annabelle's Guiding Principle of Life, you never know. "Which of them is closer to us?"

[pheliskougra]

"The Hunting Lodge, its some five blocks north of here." Ted explains. "The police's twice as far."

"I guess we could make a run for it. But some have to stay to keep the Woodruffs quiet." Jackson nods.

[aeons_crackshot]

"The who?" Annabelle asks.

[pheliskougra]

"Peter and Sarah. The... things, killed their children. Peter is in a nonstop panicked anxiety attack, wanting to run out and away. Sarah is in shock and denial. I'm not keen on leaving them alone in the house." Oh, right.

Ted shakes head. "Myself, Monica and Annabelle could take care of the gun run? A few shotguns, maybe a rifle, a couple handguns, and as much ammo as we can carry. They have those big camping backpacks there."

[aeons_crackshot]

"Sounds like a good plan," Annabelle agrees. "If we're not back in a few hours...."

Well, they probably know what that means.

[pheliskougra]

Jackson shakes head. "A couple hours until sunrise yet; sit down, and relax." It is better to have daylight on your side, right?

Monica finally moves away from the window, and sinks into the couch.

[aeons_crackshot]

It couldn't hurt. "I don't suppose there's a pack of cards around the place?"

It's not like anyone's going to sleep, right?