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Post by Anton Gorodetsky on Jul 15, 2009 19:53:13 GMT -6
 Date (January 15, 1924)
1700 hours
London, James Rivier District
9 Degrees C, Cloudy mild rain Anton moved as fast as he could in a steady pace he was used to, on what remained of the streets of London. Abandoned vehicles were lying around, some battered by the hordes of madmen. He soon understood the undead were not very fond of sunlight and he once again cursed the blasted British weather. A light rain was cheerfully falling on the dusty streets, slipping through the cracks and broken windows of the ruins of once beautiful buildings. He cursed once again the idiots from the army that thought this was the best plan. Most of the undead were not wiped out from what he had seen from a distance using his scope. He knew some of them had caught his smell but he was good at hiding behind enemy lines. His job in the Red Army was marksman, and later as a mercenary he went farther than that. Protecting his teammates from harm by executing precise shots at tactically important targets. However the situation here was like nothing he had seen before. The undead were not only tenacious, but they were very, very good at detecting him when he was sure he would not be seen. He had a few close calls in the last night when he tried to barricade himself in an apartment. The... zombies had found him and the only way he was able to escape was to tie his only rope to the bed in one of the rooms and rappel down to street level, his gloves searing hot from the friction. Now he was stuck with no rope and still advancing towards the docks in hopes of finding some boat to escape the ruined city. All the money in the world now didn't matter... war had found him again. This time death was his enemy, quite literally. He smirked at the irony and froze in his step. Something in the far end of the street moved. He saw it with the corner of his eye and ducked behind a burned out car. Using his scope he distinguished a few horridly dismembered corpses from which a lone zombie was obviously feeding. The sick feeling in his stomach rose as he felt the smell of decaying flesh carried by the breeze that swept the street. He ducked and traced back his steps to try another street trying to avoid the confrontation. Saving his ammo was of vital importance. The sounds of shots came from the south-west, single hacking rifle bangs he recognized as british rifles, mixed with the constant battering of automatic fire. Wondering what was going on he decided to attempt to follow the general direction through which they were coming and to scout out the situation. He begged to the heavens he would not run into any of those disgusting undead monsters. [OOC: I decided to go with this since I see Bowlen and I are in the generally same area of town. I changed the original posting date to match his including the time of day and weather.] |
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Post by bloodywyvern on Jul 16, 2009 16:38:20 GMT -6
(OOC. awww I was enjoying the little back and forth)
Draco slammed through the door quickly shutting it behind him and stepping back from it point the pistol, listening but hearing nothing... they hadn't seen him! he'd avoided the creatures and was now that little bit closer to the green zone!
he quickly spun around and began moving further into the building, his grip on his pistol slightly shaky with nerves and adrenaline as he took a deep breath slowly walking, his footsteps raising small clouds of dust in his wake, his eyes flicking everywhere for items to use, he caught sight of a box of matches and picked it up slipping it into his pocket before continuing.
Then he heard something it was quiet, but he was sure he could hear footsteps, foolishly he uttered, "...is someone there" his voice, although quiet, almost shattering the silence worse than any gun shot could, Draco silently cursed his stupidity and backed himself against a wall, trying to point his gun everywhere at once, his breathing becoming faster and faster as his heart beat harder and harder in his chest. For a split second his vision flashed to the muddy blood covered trenches of World war one and he shook his head violently slapping his forehead focus draco...focus... he thought, feeling himself beginning to slip into another episode.. why now, why now of all times! he stood there, an internal battle fighting in his own head to keep the images from appearing, the torn face of his comrade, the gas blinding men he'd known from childhood, the whine and crack of machine gun fire as it just missed his head, Draco was trapped in a world half reality half nightmare, he was at once in 1924, and back in the trenches of 1916...
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Post by Nathan Ellis on Jul 16, 2009 17:05:38 GMT -6
[[OOC: ok, just cleaned up the shit load of OOC posts lol.]]
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Post by Anton Gorodetsky on Jul 17, 2009 15:33:34 GMT -6
{OOC: Well boss at this point I am awaiting your answer and the depiction of the tactical situation. Heh... I'm serious. I need to write damn it  ] |
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Post by Nathan Ellis on Jul 17, 2009 15:42:03 GMT -6
[[OOC: well shit, i thought you were going to um... greet, draco first, then i'd give you all something to do. You gotta tell me these things!  ]] |
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Post by Anton Gorodetsky on Jul 18, 2009 7:26:38 GMT -6
[OOC: Nice work with the signature banner btw Both of you they look very neat. BTW I can't seem to find any historical information on the James Rivier district... odd. Only US stuff about JAMESTOWN. Right... well this is the good old Britain :>] Anton sneaked forward in the general direction of the river Thames, attempting to go towards the gunshots that were now gone. He noticed a thick column of black smoke in the air, slightly to his left. Moving as quietly and as low as he could he took a peek down the ruined street. The place had several trucks, the first one of which was burning, a jeep or two who were smashed and turned over, two APCs whose guns were quiet and... zombies. Lots of zombies. They were all over the place, some of them hammering the armor of the infantry carriers with their limbs and making indistinguishable sounds from this distance. Others were circling around the burning truck as if dancing around a bonfire like savages. He used his scope to see what they are looking at and his heart missed a beat after he saw a man burning in the driver's seat, his skin moving and melting like wax on a candle, his silent screams on his quickly decaying face made him want to vomit. He got back to reality with a snap after realizing he probably had to cross the street. Observing the situation he saw a door with a dead zombie in front of it, and a door riddled with bullet holes. He had the feeling at least one of the men from the convoy had made it to that very building, old and carrying the wounds of the Royal Air Force. A broken logo in front said "Prin..." and the rest of the logo was blown away by a bomb. He hoped crossing the street would be safe and the zombies would be busy with their cans of food on the street.. as cruel as that sounded he preferred other people dead than him. Running low and using as much cover as he could he crossed the street and started backtracking his way to the designated building behind the facade of the street, in the back alley. He disliked the tight spaces but had no choice. Giving up his position would surely mean death. As he was contemplating this he almost bumped into a zombie slowly strutting on its way just behind the corner. He gasped for a second there and the zombie lurched forward with a low groan and baring his ugly decaying teeth. Anton reacted right away and used the butt of his rifle ramming it in the chest. The zombie got knocked back a foot and kept advancing this time lurching dangerously close to his face. He instinctively raised his rifle and its hands grappled it with an iron grip. He cursed, his face red and tried to wrestle it out of its hands. Barely able to do that he dropped the rifle on the ground where it was kicked by the zombie behind him. He pulled out his knife and slashed its outstretched left hand cutting some fingers off. There was no blood splash, the blood was thick and dark as it oozed from the wound. He stepped back and the zombie followed smacking him in the face with its other arm. He felt as if he was smacked with a piece of iron. Falling on his back he crawled towards his rifle desperately while the zombie simply fell on him leaning ominously and gurgling. Its foul breath and stench of decaying flesh made him vomit and with one desperate movement he turned and slashed at its face. He missed by a lot, his vision still blurry by the impact. The zombie crawled up his body grabbing hand fulls of his combat clothing, its only remaining eye was murky white and rolling in its socket. The zombie leaned over his face as he was stabbing it in the guts, obviously to no effect. He finally cursed under his breath and stabbed one last time under the chin. The knife went deep, pierced the skull and the zombie froze as if broken. The body slumped on top of him and the black blood started oozing on his gloves. He gathered his strength and pushed the corpse off his body, gasping for air. Crawling back to his rifle he felt his heart race and the pulse of it hammer in his head with every step he took toward the building. He had a good reason for being careful.. one moment of distraction almost cost him his life. "Чорт возми!" he cursed and struggled back to his feet. Slowly moving he got back to his senses and finally reached the back door of the building he thought someone was in. Reaching the door and breathing heavily he slowly opened it, this time keeping his rifle in front of him, aimed and ready. Suddenly a voice came from up the stairs: "Is someone there?" - the man's quiet voice carried a streak of shock in it, bits of fear too. He slowly went up the stairs trying to be as quiet as he can and answered: "Yes, my name is Anton Gorodetsky. Are you alright? Whoever you are we have to get out of this building. They will soon catch your scent and come after in building. There is no time. Can you walk? Are you hurt?" He went up a few more stairs and saw a young man, probably in his early twenties covered with dirt, flecks of blood and holding a pistol in his outstretched arm with a look of puzzlement on his face. His dark blond hair was clumped together in places where he had dark spots of drying blood. Anton opened his arms in a peaceful gesture keeping the rifle in one and his hands away from the trigger. "I am a friend alright? My name is Anton. What is your name, friend?" Still he was pretty sure the boy saw the blood on his hands and the flecks all over his dusty desert uniform so he hoped to God he would not try anything stupid. Meanwhile he observed the smoke through the broken windows and felt the stench of his clothes in the air mixed with the sweat from the fight. The screams outside had stopped, only the cheerful sounds of roaring fire dominated the air, sometimes mixed with the groans and howls of the living dead.  |
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Post by bloodywyvern on Jul 18, 2009 7:37:40 GMT -6
Draco saw the man and sensed a Russian accent... he'd met a few Russians... from what he remembered... they were Friends.. "Your... Your Russian?" he said, his mind still in 1916, before the communist revolution. Lowering the pistol and taking a step forward, the movement pulling him back to reality.
He put one hand to his forehead and muttered something under his breath "Sorry..." he said quietly "the war.." a hint of embarrassment in his voice looking at the man he shook his head a last a time and continued in a more normal tone "I'm fine, just a momentary thing.." he then nodded at the mans advice "Aye.. lets get out of here... Oh I'm Draco, Draco Bowden by the way, not that it matters I suppose" he turned and took a step forward before stopping suddenly and turning back "You wouldn't know a safe way to the green zone would you? I need to get back there.. orders and all that" he sighed knowing it was unlikely but the gave the man a slight smile "Or are we gonna have to hole up for the night?"
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Post by Anton Gorodetsky on Jul 18, 2009 8:01:18 GMT -6
Date (January 15, 1924)
1746 hours
London, James Rivier District
12 Degrees C, Cloudy; strong rainAnton grinned widely and outstretched his arm patting Bowden on the shoulder. "Everything matters friend! Normally I would say we need to stay here since they seem to love the night. But with that many so close we need to go away. Go to safe place right? There is still time until sun goes down and uglies come out to hunt. We need to be quiet, or they will know we are close." He looked around with scanning eyes and walked quietly around the corridors, looking for anything he could use. After a minute he realized this was a printing shop or something similar, since one of the rooms had insane quantities of paper and four printing presses which looked dusty and unused for quite some time. Suddenly he heard a flapping sound and the sounds of clothes on a moving body. Anton peeked into one of the side rooms which said "Shift Manager" where he heard the sound and froze. A corpse was hanging from the ceiling, some man obviously trying to strangle himself. The man... or rather the zombie was now waving its arms chaotically in the air and kicking helplessly while the supply of air to its throat was cut. The rope had cut deeply into its vocal cords and obviously smashed them. He examined the living corpse and sighed. After a few seconds he wondered if the shift manager's corpse might have keys to the money vault if this even existed. He was certain that if the "Green zone" as the soldier called it still existed people there would need money and would still trade. He had to check the zombie for a key. He couldn't risk shooting and alerting the other undead nearby so he had to come up with another way of killing it. Bowden gasped at the helpless zombie and Anton quietly said: "It might have key to vault. We find vault, we find money for Green Zone, yes? This will be good for trade. We split fifty-fifty. Can't eat money but money is still good for something, maybe." He looked around for something sharp and long while Bowden looked troubled and looked at the sad picture of the suicidal shift manager. 
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Post by bloodywyvern on Jul 18, 2009 8:11:52 GMT -6
He grinned at his Russian comrade "Aye if the green zone hasn't fallen money is good..." he showed the man his knife "If you give me a moment..." he walked up to the flailing zombie which was trying to screech to alert its comrades of the livings presence but thanks to the rope destroying its neck couldn't. "hideous creatures..." he said quietly under his breath as he quickly dived into the flailing arms and plunged the knife into its head and ducked away, narrowly avoiding a slash from the creatures hands.
He stood for a few moments watching the beast in its death throws as it made its last spastic movements twitching and then falling still "There.. That should make it stay dead..." Draco said taking a step forward to look in its pocket when the thing suddenly shot an arm out, grabbing his throat in a rather strong grip and looking at him with dead eyes, the knife almost comically sticking into its skull "help..me" Draco gurgled as he put both hands around the creatures grip, stronger than its rotting flesh implied and only managing to keep the fingers off to give him just enough air to keep going...
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Post by Nathan Ellis on Jul 18, 2009 8:23:13 GMT -6
[[OOC: Looks like you two have been having fun. And I just looked up the river in London again. It's the Thames not James xD My mistake, i'll go fix it. And I'm not sure if it is really a historical district, just mainly the area around the Thames River. Anyway, seems like you two are doing fine, i'll leave you be.]]
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Post by connie on Jul 18, 2009 10:39:59 GMT -6
She had been sitting in the corner of a half bombed out room on the top floor of a building. Connie had only gone up there because she needed to find somewhere to rest and the creatures might have a tougher time trying to scramble over the rubble to get to her. The corner had seemed the wisest place to sit as then she wouldn't need to worry about attacks from behind quite so much.
The rifle that she usually carried across her back was lying on the ground beside her, ready should it be needed to blast anythings head off. She wasn't a fan of the weapon, truth be told, but when her own handgun had run out of ammo weeks before hand, she had discarded it in favour of the rifle. At least she knew she would be able to get ammo to it again. It had been taken from the back of a blown-out truck on the side of a road. She had used the last of her own ammo shooting the driver of the truck. The memory caused Connie to close her eyes. The hacking.. barking sounds the "man" had made still haunted her. Yeah, his and every other poor sucker she had come across in her time.
Trying to banish the thoughts from her mind, Connie went to her pack and rummaged about in it and brought out a bottle of water. As she raised the bottle to her lips, a series of loud bangs and crashes could be heard from outside... too close to be from the base. She paused, put the bottle back in the bag and lifted her gun from the ground and put its strap over her shoulder, crawling over to where a window must once have been and looked out. Black smoke was billowing up from the streets. "What have they gone and done now..." she muttered to herself. She was surprised to see a man suddenly then dash out and make for another building across the way. He must either have been suicidal, insane, or just bloody brave. Possibly a mix of all three.
After counting to fifty slowly in her head, Connie nodded once. As far as she could tell, there were no creatures in the vicinity - yet. But with all that noise, they were bound to be on their way soon. So, after checking her gun fully loaded yet again, she got into a crouch and slowly and carefully made her way to the lower floor of the building. So far, so good. It was as she crouched by the door of the building, getting ready to run across to the next cover, that she heard the noise behind her. Nothing big, just a small scuffle of a foot. Then it jumped.
Not having enough time to aim and fire, Connie's first reflex shot went totally array, shooting into the roof instead and sending down a small cloud of dust. Then the thing was on her, snarling and growling, clawing at her and biting. It went to grab shoulders, but using the butt of the gun she smacked them away and then thrust it forwards to catch the zombie on the face. It stumbled backwards a couple of steps, but it was enough time for Connie to reach to her belt with her left hand and bring out her knife. Swiftly stepping forwards, she lodged the knife in the things neck and ripped it to the side. A feeble gargling filled the air, and the thing sank to it's knees. As it did, Connie stepped backwards, wiping the knife on her trouser leg as she did. Placing the knife back in it's sheath, Connie realised her hands were shaking. God knew she could go a cigarette right about now, but there was no time. The place would be teeming with undead soon.
Taking a deep breath, she took a better grip on her gun and - without a backwards glance at the now permanent corpse - dashed across to the next building in an attempt to locate the man she had seen earlier. Perhaps he would be able to help her. Or maybe it was him that could do with the help.
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Post by Anton Gorodetsky on Jul 18, 2009 13:20:39 GMT -6
Anton's eyes went wide with terror as he saw Bowden being pulled up and choked. His expression went from shock to fury as he climbed on the nearby desk, pulled out his knife and started methodically decapitating the living corpse. After a few tense moments the body fell down to the floor with Bowden still attached with a *thud*. He tried wrenching the young man's neck from the iron grip and carefully cut the fingers off by the knuckles cutting tendons, sinew and flesh. The next few seconds he saw the color return to Bowden's face and he sighed with relief slapping the boy gently across the face. "Hey Draco? Are you alive?" Checking his pulse he found out he was alive still despite the bruises on his neck. He pulled out a handkerchief from the front pocket of the corpse and carefully cleaned the blood with a bit of vodka from his pack thus disinfecting the bruises. The boy was still unconscious. He cursed to himself and searched the body of the "zombie" and found a pack of cigarettes, that he pushed aside, a matchbox that he put inside his inner waterproof pocket, some small change ($3.90 British pounds), and a small steel key with a number on it. The number was A718 and it looked like a deposit box key. Along with it was a small piece of paper with a series of numbers on it. He wondered what the hell they meant. 01001010 01100001 01101101 01100101 01110011 It was obviously simple binary code that unfortunately he was not familiar with. He sighed and froze as he heard a single shot coming from the outside. Anton moved stealthily to the broken windows and peeked outside. He could not tell from where the shot had come but he hoped whoever was out there was alive and well. He could not leave Bowden alone at this point so he got back in the room, moved the corpse and severed head that looked at him and opened its jaws. He stuck his knife in the head deeply and this time killed it for good. Sitting on the only chair in the room, Anton started waiting for Bowden to wake up. He kept his rifle ready just in case and hoped to God the undead have not heard the struggle.  |
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Post by bloodywyvern on Jul 18, 2009 13:31:59 GMT -6
Draco had passed out during the struggle, sure the beast was about to kill him. Yet, somehow he awoke with a great deal of blood around him, he was groggy at first but slowly managed to stand, aware that he was in fact still alive, the first thing he noticed was a packet of discarded cigarettes, which he scooped up and slipped into his pocket to add to his own small collection before turning to the Russian "Thanks mate..." He looked around the room a little groggily "So, you find the key? anything interesting happen while I was out?" he said in an almost conversational manner
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Post by Anton Gorodetsky on Jul 18, 2009 14:07:23 GMT -6
Date (January 15, 1924)
1806 hours
London, James Rivier District
13 Degrees C, Cloudy, heavy rain
"Yes I found a key, not what I expected. Also I found some small change and this slip of paper in the poor man's pocket. It has binary on it. Can you read that stuff? I'm sorry for letting it grab you Draco. I was planning to find something longer to stab it in the head but no matter."
He sighed and also added:
"And also there was a shot from the outside. It is possible some of your comrades might have survived somehow. Not very likely but still possible. We may need to keep watch if anything happens."
He looked around checking the drawers for a bit and smiled. He pulled out a brand new notebook and pulled out two beautiful pens from the pen stands on the desk and jokingly added, attempting to relieve the pressure:
"Do you have an appointment, sir? I will get on with the hauling of things to the door near the staircase. You might want to check if there is any water in the taps, we will need it soon. I'm glad to have found you Draco."
Anton walked off in the corridor, started pushing a close by desk towards the battered door of the printing shop and thought of how much the young man reminded him of his brother when they were younger. He sighed and also remembered how his little brother had treated him when he deserted, his eyes full of hatred. He shook the memory and got back to the task at hand, his expression turning solid.
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Post by bloodywyvern on Jul 18, 2009 14:30:01 GMT -6
Draco nodded as the man spoke, removing the clip from his rifle and reaching his hand into one of the many compartments on his combat webbing, pulling out 10 bullets and slipping them in one by one as he spoke "No, never been able to read binary... could be a safe code though?" he said absent-mindedly as he checked the clip and fitted it back into his rifle, pulling the mechanism to reload it.
"A gunshot?" he paused letting the rifle hang round his shoulder and digging around for his binoculars, walking to look at the buildings nearest the direction his convoy had come from "...I didn't think anyone could make it out of that alive..." he laughed a little as the man spoke "I have some water here if the taps are down, first I want to see this.." then he turned around and smiled "And I am glad to have found you, always good to have friends in dark times aye" he looked back to the window
He brought the binoculars to his eyes and began scanning the ruins opposite, avoiding the zombies gorging themselves on the remains of the convoy below, after a few moments he was about to give up, but he saw... was that a woman, it was, and she was rather.. attractive. Draco soon lost sight of her, but then saw two walkers approaching behind her, swearing he brought his gun up in the general direction of where the creatures were and fired off 2 shots, unsure whether or not they hit or missed, but prayed it would give the girl a chance to see them before it was too late. He turned back to his comrade "its a girl, she wasn't with our convoy, i'd sure as hell have remembered her.. and she doesn't look military" he shook his head and then said quickly "we might need to cover her... but that means were gonna have to move on quick.."
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