Easy Money

[fusebox]

January 14, 1924
3:12 PM
Light fog


Vassili felt his fat lip, courtesy of the now unconscious German who'd Vassili'd given the Molotov cocktail, a gentle stream of blood dripping from his noes. The truck bed had fallen silent since the incident, as opposing countries locked each other in a Mexican standoff. Vassili grunted and looked down at his revolver, sitting in his hands, the same weapon he'd had since the day he'd joined the army.

Suddenly the Russian next to him broke the silence, by turning to him, and asking in his native tongue, "You still got your money on the old man with the machine gun?"

Vassili laughed and cracked open his revolver, "Yeah, even the one I knocked out has a better chance than him. The man might as well be trying to club them with an empty bottle!"

The Russians all shared a laugh as the Germans stared at them with contempt, when suddenly the truck skidded to a stop, sending the men in the back into the man next to him. Everyone sat in silence as the driver slowly leaned out the window, yelled something in German, and got back in. Simultaneously, the men in the back all stood up, and looked down the road. Standing there, shambling about, was none other than a zombie, moaning and groaning in the mist ahead.

Everyone sat down as the truck lurched foreword again, and pulled to a stop, only five meters ahead of the walking-dead. Confused, Vassili began raising his revolver, before one of the Germans motioned him to stop. Vassili lowered his gun, but kept a tight grip on it. The Zombie slowly began closing the distance, but as it drew within the final two meters, a German near the front of the truck banged on the rear window, and the truck pulled foreword.
another ten meters before stopping again.

Vassili burst into laughter as he realized what was going on, and began taunting the zombie to come foreword. The other Russians quickly joined in on the fun, as they too realized what was going on.

[Nathan Ellis]

GM

The Walker had had enough, he wanted his prey and now. He was enraged, he wanted these things in front of him to die! If he couldn't get them, his brethren would. Opening his mouth wide, and letting out a high pitched, airy scream, he alerted other infected nearby of their presence. From around the corner, came 4 Runners, one of which was a woman, not 30 years old. And as if dropped from the sky, a crawler with its bottom half torn away landed on the hood of the truck, making the driving swerve and nearly tip the vehicle over.

[fusebox]

Vassili held his hands against his ears as the zombie let out a horrible screech. Then, without warning, the truck lurched foreword as the driver gunned the motor. Vassili grabbed onto the bench beneath him, doing his best to stop himself from falling off. Unfortunately, one of the German's who'd been standing wasn't so lucky, and he found himself eating asphalt.

Suddenly the truck veered to the right. Through the window the could see the driver panicking, something was on the hood. This was deffenantly not a good way to begin a job. This was supposed to be easy, drive into town, search some guy's house for his son, and come back. Easy money. But this was turning into hell, and they'd only been in the city for a half hour.

There was suddenly a loud thump as the truck hit something, followed be a body rolling out from under the vehicle a moment later, head caved in. Suddenly another three zombies appeared, running alongside the truck. However they were all quickly dispatched by the other mercs.

And as sudden as it had all began it stopped. All traces of the undead disappeared into the mist, leaving nine startled mercs.

[Nathan Ellis]

[[OOC: Alright, that'll work, since it's only mediocre threat level. now to get on with your real mission.]]

GM

- 30 minutes later -

Having driven a mile farther and taking several turns, the truck now pulled to a gentle stop outside their target building. The front door was slightly ajar, and a window had been broken. A path lead around the house to the back yard and hopefully a back door. The kids father had only said that the kid was in the house. But from the looks of it, if he indeed was still alive and in the house, they would have to search a 2 story mansion, which at least used to have a full list of servants and other employee's.

[[OOC: Basicly he could be anywhere, you'll get to pick though. Zombie cook with a cleaver anyone?]]

[fusebox]

The men disembarked from the truck, and slowly moved towards the house. The front lawn was packed with hedges clipped into organic statues, along with innumerable different lawn ornaments. Soon, everyone was stopped in front of a large, wooden, double door. The Germans began talking amongst each other, discussing their plan of attack, while the Russians continued with the business of gambling.

"Alright, seeing as there's no reason to tell whether that German who fell from the truck is dead or not, all bets on him are void."

The conversations on both sides continued on like that for another few minutes, before one of the Germans approached the Russians.

"Alright, which one of you is in charge here?" He asked in English.

"I guess that'd be me." The Russian Vassili had gotten to know as Papenov replied.

"We're going in through the back. It'd be wise if we all stuck together in this."

"Alright," Vassili cut in. With that, they regrouped, and headed along the left side of the house to the back, the Russians on point.

[Nathan Ellis]

[[OOC: Gah, sorry bout that, forgot... I'm not going to give you much to deal with yet. ]]

GM

Walking cautiously down the small stone path in the well manicured lawn, the group of well armed and trained mercenaries were ready for anything. Well, almost anything. A lone crawler (not climber) fell from a broken window on the second story, right into the middle of the mercenary group, drawing everyone's attention. They couldn't risk firing into the at it, else they might hit one of their own. In the split second of hesatation, the creature managed to grab a hold of one of the German's legs, and was attempting to climb up his leg. And at the same time, a group of two runner walked around the corner of the house, not 25 yards away.

[fusebox]

Vassili nearly jumped out of his skin as he heard a loud thump behind him, accompanied by the startled yelps of the rest of the men. The four men on point whirled around, just in time to see a legless maid grab hold of one the German's legs. The man screamed as he struggled to free his foot, and his pistol from his Hollister.

Quickly, one of the Germans took action, pulling out a rather large knife from a seethe on his waist. He dropped a knee onto the zombie's back, resulting in a loud crack as he undoubtedly broke a few of it's ribs. The zombie began trying to scream, call it's comrades to come devour these living, but all that came out was a low gurgle. The man then took his knife, and sank it deep into the back of the crawler's neck, making a quiet 'chink' as the tip impacted the concrete.

A relieved German wrenched his foot from the zombie's death grip, and with a laugh, turned back down the path. Suddenly, he yelled something in German, and before Vassili could even begin to try and decipher what was being said, the ear splitting call of the undead broke through the air. Vassili whirled around to face the noise, just in time to see two runners pounce into the group, landing on the two Russians on point. Vassili reached for his machete strapped to his thigh, and wrapped his fingers around the leather grip. Giving the weapon a tug, he pulled it out of it's seethe, resulting in a high pitch ringing as the blade vibrated.

The two Russians were both on the ground, runners on top of them. The one closest to Vassili was actually fairing pretty good. He had one hand on the zombie's throat, and another continually wailing it in the face, though his punches weren't very effective against the rotting corpse. Vassili grabbed hold of the back of it's neck, and wrenched it off the Russian, kicking and screaming. Vassili swung the zombie to the ground, flat on it's stomach, and in one fluid motion, he cleaved it in the back of the head with his blade, slicing through bone and brain.

[Nathan Ellis]

GM

2 of the 3 hostiles down, the group of mercenaries only had one left. The unfortunate Russian to have been jumped on, had managed to get his forearm under the zombies chin, and was holding it back. However this wasn't stopping it from wailing on him. Feeling around for his revolver, the Russian managed to pull it out of its holster and bring it to bare. Pulling the trigger, the group suddenly found themselves covered by at least some small piece of brain or skull tissue.

All hostiles eliminated, the group was safe to move. However the screams of the runner and gunshot had surely attracted some more attention. Looking around, Vassili spotted a window open on the first floor, only a few feet away. However the room was dark, and no one could see what was beyond it. 30 yards farther down the path was the back door, and there fore hopefully a back door.

[fusebox]

"C'mon! We've got to get inside!" Vassili yelled as he turned to run to the window. "Through the window!"

Vassili was surprised when he found most of the group hadn't followed, "Come on, it's a hive," One of the Germans said, "The kid's dead, along with everything else in there."

"Well either we go in there and take them all on, or they come out and get us, along with every other undead bastard around here." Vassili's words seemed to motivate the group a bit, and they all came running to the window. Vassili reached into his bag and pulled out his lantern. But upon feeling around his pockets, he found he'd forgotten a crucial item, a lighter.

"Anybody got a light? I'm all out."

[fusebox]

One of the Germans reached into his pocket and pulled out a lighter, before tossing it over to Vassili, who caught it with his free hand, and lit his lamp. Slowly he stuck the lamp through the window, illuminating the room in a dim glow. It was a entertainment room of sorts. Fairly large with a pool table at one end, and a fire place surrounded by big, leather sofas and arm chairs. And to top it all off, a low hanging chandelier hung from the high ceiling, level with a balcony on the second floor overlooking the room. The only things keeping this room from looking like the family room it once was, was the blood streaked across the walls, and the large, wooden double doors directly across from the window, hastily boarded up with the remains of a coffee table.

"Any zombies?" One of the Russians asked. Vassili turned and shook his head before silently crawling in, revolver in hand. Vassili took a step foreword, whilst pulling back the Nagant's hammer with his thumb. Motioning for his comrades to follow, he took another step. The tell-tale signs of zombies were everywhere, smashed paintings, holes in the walls, the remains of a banister on the edge of the balcony above. However the room seemed in fairly good condition given the circumstances.

Vassili froze as a loud moan echoed through the room. The two Germans who'd also entered did likewise and began scanning the room, rifles at the read. One of them tapped Vassili on the shoulder, and pointed up at the balcony, the only place it could be.

An idea struck Vassili. One of the Germans shot him a what are you doing look, as he walked over to the pool table. Slowly he brought his leg back, and gave the side of the table a good hard kick, resulting in a loud crack as the wood along the bottom splintered. Vassili then raised his revolver up to the balcony, the shuffling of feat beginning to accompany the moaning.

[fusebox]

January 14th,1924
3:57 PM
13 degrees C, Heavy fog

The mercenaries became still as they listened to the footsteps of the slowly approaching corpse. Most of the group was still outside, and weren't trickling in fast enough. Vassili didn't dare turn around to tell them to hurry up, he didn't dare make a noise. One false move, and a mansion load of zombies could come barreling down upon them.

Vassili's hand began to sweat from his death-grip on the revolver, and the zombie sure as hell was taking it's sweet time. He suddenly began feeling the hammer slip from his thumb, slowly sliding toward the cartridge. Suddenly, a head appeared above, sporting a grotesque, nose-less face, and a metal rod in it's left eye. Vassili lifted his thumb away, and the hammer struck home. A loud crack shattered the silence of the moment and a 7.62 flew from the muzzle. Vassili could almost see it sailing through the air, before it disappeared into the zombie's skull. The resulting carnage was both satisfying, and hilarious. The bullet had entered through the undead bastard's remaining eye, and for the first few seconds, it looked as if nothing had happened. Then it began stumbling foreword, before tumbling off the balcony and landing on the pool table, an even more lifeless wreck.

For a few moments the only sound was Vassili cycling his revolver, then, the silence broke as what sounded like a hundred screams echoed through the building. Vassili quickly set his lantern down on the pool table, and retrieved his rifle from his back, bayonet gleaming in the soft light. The screams continued echoing, muffled by the walls, but slowly getting louder, and louder. Suddenly a loud crack came from the boarded up double doors as they bulged inward. Splinters began flying off as the undead began pounding against it. By now all but one man had made it in, and they all had their rifles aimed at the same place.

[Nathan Ellis]

GM

"I want two men to turn that pool table over!" Papenov yelled, taking control of the situation, "And I want the rest of you to start pumping the lead from your rifles, into that door!" He continued, as he helped the last man through the window. With the pool table flipped up, the old man with the machine gun set up his weapon, and to unleash his fury once the door broke down. As the other mean shot salvo after salvo into the door, the beating and pounding would subside for a second, as the undead attempted to regain their stance, and the fire team took that chance to work the action on their rifles, before firing again.

As each man used up the ammo in his rifle, he grabbed a chair, or table or any movable object and pulled it into a semi-circle around the pool table. Once behind the quick makeshift barricade, they reloaded their rifles and waited.

"Hold you fire! Hold...Hold..." Papenov yelled, waiting for the undead to break through. And finally they did, and they flooded into the room as a bloody pulp. Many were missing fingers, arms, legs, and chunks of their torsos due to the salvos. And then all hell broke loose as the two groups met, face to face.

"Fire!"

[fusebox]

"Fire!"

Vassili fired off a shot into the mob, somewhat ineffectively catching a surprisingly well dressed woman in the chest. She stumbled back, and disappeared into the horde of undead butlers, maids, and one fat cook with a cleaver. Vassili pulled back on the rifle's bolt, but suddenly stopped as a shambler came into stabbing range. He thrusted his rifle foreword, piercing straight through the middle of a zombie's chest, almost unfazed as it continued to try and push foreword. Vassili grabbed the extended bolt and pushed it foreword, chambering a new round.

With a squeeze of the trigger, Vassili blew a hole through the zombie's neck, sending chunks of spine into the face of the zombie behind it.

Vassili pulled the blade out and let the body fall to the ground, but already a new zombie was on him. Abandoning his rifle, Vassili reached down and drew his machete. With a swing of the blade, Vassili cut deep into the side if the zombie's neck, though not quite reaching the spine. Placing a hand on the side of the former housekeeper's face, he ripped the blade back out and with one chop, severed the head. The corpse twitched and gurgled as it fell to the ground, blood thicker than syrup oozing from it's stump.

Vassili reached into his coat pocket and drew his pistol. Looking around it seemed like the group was faring pretty well given the odds. There had to be at least twenty in the room so far, with more and more pouring in every second. Vassili took a step back from the barrier. The woman from earlier was back, and boy did she looked pissed. However with the squeeze of a trigger, and the spray of grey matter, she again disappeared under the footsteps of the horde, a lifeless wreck.

Vassili smiled inwardly, the odds were stacked against them yes, but at this rate every zombie in the vicinity would be a hump of rotting flesh in a matter of moments.

But as Vassili finished that thought, Murphy's law kicked in as the cook made it to the front of the horde. At the time, Papenov was busy prying a corpse off of himself with a knife, when from seemingly out of nowhere, a cleaver cut into his arm, chipping into the bone. Papenov screamed in pain, before disappearing under a pile of lifeless corpses as they poured over his section of the barrier.

[Nathan Ellis]

GM

"Fall back!" Vassili yelled, as he waved his companions over to a stair way leading to balcony. Stabbing a zombie in the chest with his bayonet, and cracking another's skull with the butt, Vassili followed them up, popping off shots behind him with his pistol. At the top, two Germans had picked up a love seat and were getting ready to toss it down the stairs.

At the top of the stairs, there was a good sized table. Two doors lead away from the balcony, to the left and right. And a large window was set into the back wall. Two shelves of books lined either side of the window, and two chairs and the used to be love seat sat under the window. Other than that, the balcony was rather sparse.

[fusebox]

January 14, 1924
6:03 PM
Light Fog, Dusk

Vassili wrenched his bayonet from a pale corpse on the ground, that of what appeared to be the former gardeners. The battle had raged for well over an hour, and the party had lost a number of men. They'd been pushed all the way back to the front entrance, and had bested well over fifty of the undead fucks. Now every man stood in silence, systematically making sure each zombie was truely as dead as it could get. Vassili whiped a streak of sweat from his brow before turning to the rest of his comrades, "Finish up here, then haul the bodies out back into a pile to be burnt."

Almost simultaneously, the seven men in the group turned to him. One of the Germans uttered something in German, which was quickly translated by another man. "He says who the hell put you in charge?"

"Yeah! Who says we have to listen to you?"

One of the Russians stepped foreward, an older man named Alik. "Hey, give him some credit! He pulled us through there. He was, umm... a Luetenant?" Alik asked, looking over his shoulder at Vassili. Vassili nodded, and Alik resumed his speach, "That's right, a luetenant. He knows what he's doing. You can count me in Vassili."

"Thank you Alik. If your not happy under my command, your welcome to leave. Because so long as you are on this manor, you follow my command. You will be my soldiers, my comrades, and my devils! Now lets start moving those bodies before they start making this place smell worse than it already does!"

[[End.]]