Red Dawn-The Beginning

Seinn wrote:

“Um… you might want to sit down…” Cris offered, pausing to let her if she so chose. “Well, I don’t know how long you’ve been out here, but people have been getting sick lately, some type of flu or something, I’m not really sure…” Her brain was scrambling to come up with as gentle and plausible explanation as possible. She couldn’t even deal with some random lady breaking down on her. “But uh, a lot of people got it. Like, a lot. And then, a few days ago… something happened. I don’t really know how to explain it. But the people who were infected mutated or something. They died, really. Their brains died. But, their bodies didn’t. Do you get what I’m saying?” She sighed, not sure if she was getting the message across. “The people who got infected started attacking all the people who haven’t. And the numbers of the people who haven’t are… well, they’re very few now.”

Lauren didn't care to sit. For now she was content to remain standing with her arms folded across her chest and her head cocked in the girl's direction. Sitting just didn't seem wise at the moment, it was the sort of thing a good Samaritan would do in one of her stories only to be strangled moments later by the stranger they were trying to help. And this wasn't exactly the place in America where the sanest of people visited, a fact she was keen to remind herself of even more so when the girl finally got going. Infection, epidemic, brain dead, living bodies, attacks, it sounded... "Like Zombies?"

It was clear from Lauren's tone that she thought the girl was full of bull. While what she wrote did tend to lend itself to the horror genre she avoided the overly cliche topics of vampires, werewolves, and zombies. She even viewed her own more down to earth stories as silly 'what if's there to give readers a scare and nothing more, just glorified campfire stories for adults. Her inner skeptic was rolling its eyes while she tried to find anything to give the girl's story one bit of credibility and ignore the fact that it sounded just about like the plot of every zombie movie she'd ever bothered watching that was semi serious. The girl was traumatized, insane, fixated on the latest zombie flick, or this was some sort of elaborate prank, now she just had to figure out which.

"Let me guess, Audrey put you up to this?" She moved towards the table and grabbed her phone after giving it the regular greeting, a sigh of irritation. Sliding the battery back in and snapping the case back into place, she gave the device another evil glare as it slowly booted up and promptly gave a happy little chime to inform her that it was out of juice before powering down which warranted another grumble. "She would pay some kid to come out here and try and spook me hoping it spawned some sort of freakish zombie novel."

As things turned to shit again, AJ just did his best to roll with the punches. Opening up fire on a incoming wreaker AJ got some satisfaction as the rounds ripped through the the creatures shoulder spinning slightly. When rthe creature stumbled just a tad AJ let loose with a follow up burst that caught the wreaker in the face exploding the head in a display of pulp and blood.

As the creature's dead body crashed to the ground in front of him AJ could just hear more closer sounds of struggling and he could just make out Mila getting dragged away by one of the creatures. Realizing just how crappy the odds were getting he decided it was time to really once and for all get the hell out of this mess, after helping out Mila of course.

Sprinting off from the area he'd been trying to hold he followed the signs of disturbance on the ground as he chased the creature down. Soon enough he saw the creature trying to drag off Mila and he braced his weapon and shouted a the creature.

"Drop her ugly, less you want to find out just how deadly the germans make their guns." AJ said almost with a snarl as he aimed down the sights of the weapon in case the creature tried to continue.

[OOC- hope that's ok neph. I'm sort of like just trying to keep AJ in the fun stuff but I'm sort of grasping at straws slightly.]

OOC: AJ wasn't affected by the screams. Please edit later to account for that. Thanks.

NitWhit wrote:

"Let me guess, Audrey put you up to this?" She moved towards the table and grabbed her phone after giving it the regular greeting, a sigh of irritation. Sliding the battery back in and snapping the case back into place, she gave the device another evil glare as it slowly booted up and promptly gave a happy little chime to inform her that it was out of juice before powering down which warranted another grumble. "She would pay some kid to come out here and try and spook me hoping it spawned some sort of freakish zombie novel."

"What?" Cris replied, uncomprehending for a moment. She really didn't believe her? She didn't know it was physically possibly to be so damn oblivious, and for some reason it made her angry.

"I don't know who the hell Audrey is, but you're in for a rude awakening," she told her, her expression seriously irritated. "I have money coming out my ass, I don't need some half-rate agent or whatever paying me $15 to kick start a creatively challenged writer. You don't believe me, fine. Go walk around outside for an hour and you'll change your mind, assuming you'll still have one that works after that long. Everyone is dead or ready to kill, Lauren. And frankly, I don't know how much longer we'll be safe here. They'll find us eventually, I'm sure."

Her mind was reeling. Great, so the first human she found that wasn't sick was also a complete moron, or a hermit, but more than likely some combination of the two. She had no idea what she was going to do if the woman didn't wise up and figure out she wasn't crazy or a prank or whatever and get on board. She couldn't do this by herself.

Day 2
Area 51 Bunker
6:50 a.m. PST

The Stalker snarls at AJ and brandishes a knife it pulls out of its thigh, and slashes with it and then bites forward with a lunge, anticipating AJ to dodge in that direction. It moves with agility and quickly, and clearly show intelligence in its choice of action. The Stalker curves its body to avoid AJ's direct line of fire as well.

All around them there is sporadic gunfire and yelling, along with Wreaker shrieks and a lot of screaming. Knowles and Pelowski have broken out of their truck and are defending a small circle with skill, and together with the other Rangers and Marines are bringing down the Wreaker numbers.

Matt moans again as the Stalker kneels next to him, saliva pouring onto Matt's face. The Stalker is the ghastly transformation of what would have been an attractive young woman. Matt pulls out his knife and G18 simultaneously, slamming the knife into the Stalker's chest, knocking it down, and fire the G18 at the Stalker attacking AJ and Mila, attempting to save Mila and not hit AJ. The Stalker next to him rebounds and kicks the G18 away and pulls out the knife, slashing him across the face. Matt screams in pain and the Stalker bites into his neck, and Matt's voice goes out brutally suddenly. He wheezes and chokes, feeling the blood spilling into his windpipe.

Suddenly an aggressive Bruiser approaches, and begins to challenge the Stalker over Matt. The Stalker begins to savagely attack the Bruiser with the knife, and the two infected begin scrabbling. Matt, in the confusion, begins to crawl away, spitting out the blood and even widening his neck wound to drain it. He keeps gasping, hoping his windpipe doesn't collapse as each hand brings him closer to Mila and AJ. He goes underneath a truck and sees the Bruiser on the ground but still fighting, and approaches Mila's limp body and shakes her. "Mila....wake up...." he rasps in her ear, then coughs, spitting pools of blood all over her by accident.

If not for the screams, the gunfire, and the pain aching through her battered body, Mila could have been at a beach back home. There was sand beneath her palms and morning sun beginning to glare down, though it wasn't nearly hot enough to inspire a true memory yet. Her hair was matted with something wet, though the lack of crashing waves made it obvious that it wasn't salt water sticking to the strands.

She was being shaken, urgently and weakly at the same time, but her eyes didn't want to open. Her face felt like it had been run over, heavy welts puffing one side to the point of making it almost impossible for her to see through her right eye. Her lower lip was sliced open and a deep gash across her cheek dripped freely, mixing with the spatters of blood raining down as Matt struggled not to choke.

"Matt...?" she asked, trying to focus her uninjured eye on his face. At first she wasn't even sure it was him, but blinked a few times to clear her vision only to find him holding his hands to his throat, an awful neck bite spilling onto his fingers. "Shit," she grunted, groaning as she pushed herself up. Something burned dully up and down her spine, but she couldn't remember what had happened.

Fuzzily she looked for something to stem the flow of Matt's wound, unsure what else to do. Meanwhile, AJ and the Stalker seemed to be involved in a dance of shooting and lunging respectively, all bullets and blades.

Mike had been riding along since the airfield in relative peace. Not really aware but not a sleep either but in an instant something loud had happened and seconds later he felt himself moving a very unexpected and unnatural direction from the road. After that it was darkness. He was vaguely aware of something happening though he couldn't figure out what. When his vision began to return and his senses return to normal he felt himself lying on the truck's side wall stairing up at the other wall. For a moment he though he had just fallen asleep but something was definitely wrong. Slowly he reached a hand up to the back of his head and felt something wet and sticky. Though muffled he could hear the sounds of gunshots and screaming, both human and otherwise. Trying to clear his vision with his eyes he inadvertently rumbed the blood from his head onto his face. It was only when he saw something very red on his hand did he realize his mistake. Reaching to his ear he felt blood their as well but he wasn't sure if that was from within his ears or something else. His body ached all over and he found it difficult to breathe but grudgingly he managed to pick himself up. Nearby lay his 9mm but his rifle was nowhere to be seen, no doubt flung away from what ever had happened. He still wasn't sure what the hell was going on though, he didn't connect the situation together very well and even then he didn't feel too worried which in itself worried him. No doubt he was suffering a concussion or something and it was effecting his judgement. Standing up on shaky legs he grabbed the gun and wnadered out. His vision began to clear but his ears still rung from sone unseen bell and was muffled as if cotton was stuffed into his ears. Looking around he noticed one ugly creature screaming at him. What had been a woman was emitting a very annoying and headsplitting sound, even with his ears plugged up. Squinting he clicked the gun's safety off and raised the gun to line it toward's its head. "Shut up," Mike heard himself say as he pulled the trigger and watched the thing's head explode. Immediately he felt his headache dissipate but still his mind was a fog of reactions without causes. Looking around at the fire and blood and the bodies though, his memory caught up to him in a flash just as the ringing in his ear went away. The muffled voices sounded loud again, almost painfully, and he had finally figured out what the hell was going on. His eyes widened as he limped away from the truck, only taking a side glance at the thing he had killed in his stupid state.

He made a dash away from the rest of the fighting towards the front where he thought the rest of his friends were but with a concussion he wasn't sure how well he could trust his thoughts. Turning the corner around the front end of the turned over truck he stopped to see a pair of wreakers fighting, one of those bruiser sort of wreakers and the hunter, or stalkerish, wreaker fighting each other. Even though the big one was... well bigger, it was clear the stalker had the advantage with an actual bladed weapon and nimbleness. Thinking quickly he figured it would be easier to kill the stalker first before dealing with the bruiser. Taking cover behind the truck, Mike waited until the two creatures were still distracted before popping out and aiming for the stalker's head. Not wanting to miss, Mike fired a salvo of bullets in hopes of at least one of them hitting their target. It was when he was firing did he realize he only had one clip and two wreakers.

Through the fog and confusion of his concussion wrecked mind he said a simple word that rang true and clear. Crap.

The strike though did find its mark in the stalker's brain and though Mike was sure it was dead he didn't have time to check before the bruiser caught sight of him and charged. Mike ran back away from the truck's edge just as the creature struck, causing the truck to move with it's force and toward's Mike trying to crush him. He managed to just get away but already the Bruiser was reaching over to crush him. Turning he emptied the clip into the thing's arm and chest, already bloodied by its scrap with the stalker. It did very little to stop it but gave enough time for Mike to slip out of his reach. He turned to run around the truck hoping to find his lost rifle or anything to defend himself but already he could hear the bruiser's cry as it went after it's quarry. Turning the corner of the truck again to where he first got out. He tossed something from his back pocket onto the ground and backed away. Taking out a cylinder he watched the bruiser turn the corner to find Mike slowly backing away. He guessed in its limited intelligence it expected Mike to be filled with fear or run. Instead it saw a grin on his face," Sorry, bastard, but I ain't on the menu tonight. The thing roared as it began to charged but with slightly added pressure on his thumb, Mike pressed the cylinder's top down causing it to click. The thing that he had thrown into the truck blew up with the force of high military grade C4, blasting the bruiser clear away with chunks of itself missing.

Mike wasted no time to celebrate for fear that something else would come at him but mentally he was patting himself on the back. Nearby he spotted a dead soldier and from him he managed to liberate a scoped G3 rifle off him. With a quick salute to the fallen man, Mike ran off hoping to find his friends.

It didn't take long to find Mila and Matt but even from a distance Matt looked bad though no doubt Mike looked bad too with his face covered in blood. "Mila!" He shouted before rushing to meet her.

After Matt took a few potshots at the stalker AJ braced his G36 and lit up the Stalker with a trio of rounds to the creature's chest. The creature snarled and spat at AJ but the student from California didn't let up and he tightened his finger on the trigger and sent another torrent of steel tipped rounds into the monstrous creature.

The wreaker pitched and sprawled as the bullets smacked against it's chest before two rounds crashed through the cartilage of it's nose and directly into the brain sending the creature tumbling and crashing on the ground and coming to a rest in front of AJ's dirt encrusted shoe.

AJ raised his gun as the guy named Mike appeared. AJ raised his brow just a tad at how suddenly everyone and their brother had like rushed to the aide of Mila but he held off a comment as he looked around.

"I don't know about you guys but I'm getting the hell out of here. I'm say we take one of the trucks, grab whatever we can while getting to it and then put as much distance as possible between us and this forsaken hell hole." AJ said as he tapped at the magazine in his rifle to make sure it still had some rounds left.

The Wreakers emerged from the shadows, a horde of them faced the compliation of civilians and military divisions that Jason fought for. All of them with unique traits, some large, intelligent, others fast, Jason remembered being briefed on their mutations. The large ones were Bruisers, the quick ones were Racers, the intelligent ones Stalkers. Racers charged, the Marines backed away making room to aim their weapons. As trucks arrived behind Jason, a Bruiser arrived at their flank causing the trucks to halt. The Bruiser lifts a truck, flipping it over and continuing to pummel into the next. Jason is caught between a rock and a hard place, forced to fight the enraged Racers. Jason looks to his left, seeing the Rangers experiencing their own piece of hell.

Jason realizes his Marines are caught up in the fight of their lives, as he rushes to their aid he is tackled by a Racer. The tackle knocks the wind out of Jason, sending his weapon skittering away. He is caught face to face with it, looking into its eyes seeing no emotion but pure rage. The Wreaker screams, blood and saliva spewing from its mouth. As it raises it hand to claw him, as Jason instinctively pulls his M9 from his waist, shooting the Wreaker between the eyes. Jason pushes it away, getting to his feet and recovering his weapon. Another Racer rushes for him, Jason rolls away unloading half a clip on it.

Jason sees a Bruiser encompassed by Marines and Delta Forces, it snatches a Marine off the ground. The Marine raises a grenade in the air, pulling the ring and pressing it to his chest, the grenade explodes. The Bruiser is short of a hand, it thrashes and wails in agony.

"Bring down! Bring down! Bring it down!" Jason shouts, on queue the surrounding force concentrate their fire. Delta Forces through C4 charges at its feet, quickly detonating them. The Bruiser falls, the first killed that day. As the dust cleared, Jason turns seeing a Jumper leap toward him. Jason backs away, raising his weapon and firing at the Wreaker; its leg is then wounded it stumbles. The Jumper attempts to pounce, but doesn't get far Jason finishes it off. It is then that a loud shriek pierces his ears, Jason falls to his knees aggravated till the shriek ceases. His ears continue to ring, Jason takes a moment to regain his senses.

Meters away, Jason sees a Stalker stare at him; it had been stalking him the whole time. Jason gestures it move forward, it stays silent with a cold stare. Two more Wreakers rush for Jason, passing the Stalker these; Jason fires at the first. It tumbles, the other keeps moving; Jason waits for it, it then pouces for him. Jason flips his gun around, as the Wreaker comes full force Jason side steps, the Wreaker hits the dirt Jason comes from behind knocking it's skull from behind with the butt end of his rifle. Jason realizes what the Stalker was doing.

It was testing him.

The Stalker exposes its claws, and charges Jason attempts to evade but is tackled losing his weapon once again. Jason pushes himself from under the Stalker. It claws at him, Jason crawls back kicking up too his feet. He reaches for his side arm, in vain, he then sees the Stalker with a silenced M9 in hand.

"Mother fucker," Jason says wiping the blood from his lip. He charges for the Stalker, coming in close enough to dive for its feet, he wasn't sure whether the bullet hit him or not. Lifting himself up to grabbing the barrel and reversing it, the M9 fires at the sky. Jason pushes the barrel further, the Stalker releases his grip of the weapon kicking Jason in the gut. Jason drops with weapon in hand, he then releases the entire clip on the Stalker. The Stalker attempts to move forward but its tumbles, Jason scurries away. He grabs his SCAR-H rifle from the ground, and looks for anyone in need of assistance. He then sees, the girl and the Journalist from the truck hovering over the infected Ranger. Jason rushes over, swinging his backpack from off his shoulder. The Ranger has a severe neck wound, he is quickly losing blood the man needed immediately.

"Jesus Christ, what did you get yourself into man?" Jason says pulling out his basic medical supplies," I can help stop the bleeding but he's gonna a Medic and fast."

The fight for Sam had not been fun, nor even anywhere near successful. It had all gotten off to a bad start when a Racer had spotted him firing from some way off the main group. A desperate chase had ensued with Sam circling a truck, the Racer following unable to catch up to him because of Sam's insistence of not running in a straight line and the loose sand beneath the feet of the racer. This had led to the kind of chase that would not be out of place in a benny hill chase scene. It was, in all ways, hilarious until Sam decided to dive beneath the truck and hide.

That was hilarious in a far more pathetic way.

The runner poked it's head beneath the truck and instantly regretted it when Sam depressed the trigger. Bits of head went everywhere and Sam shuddered slightly, I'm not sure if I'll ever get used to that.

Pulling himself out from underneath the truck Sam saw in the not too distant distance a very battered group of survivors, of which he was almost certain several were probably his friends. As far as he could tell they seemed in safe. Except....

There was a Stalker, bloodied and bruised, heading towards the group at a slow pace from a very dead looking bruiser. No one had seemed to have noticed it. No one except Sam and he knew even from this relatively short distance he had no chance of hitting it. At least not with a bullet.....

His mind racing he swung round to face the truck and grabbed the door, wrenching it open. The engine was still running and although Sam did not understand cars very well he knew enough to know that you'd have to be some kind of idiot to not be able to drive a automatic (). Putting his foot to the floor he swore slightly as the big truck failed to accelerate at the pace of lightning; in his anger he began to hit switches randomly which was when the stupidly big truck's CD player came on.

It took a while for the lumbering beast's wheels to pick up pace which meant when Sam did hit the stalker (and in the process slammed his nose on the steering wheel, causing it in it's already bruised state to start bleeding profusely) it took a hell of a long time to slow down. When the vehicle did come to a stop he opened the door slowly, almost fell out of the cabin and took several slow strides to towards the now battered stalker. It began to yell weakly at him.

"Oh go fuck yourself," Sam said, wincing at his bleeding nose and shot the thing.

The truck slowly trundled back towards the group, Sam doing a good job of not letting his nosebleed get over the whole steering wheel. He leaned out the window, a grimace on his face, as he looked at what was left of the group. "Shall we get going?

AJ clanged at the other soldier and his mentioning of a medic and sort of glanced at Matt. AJ sort of clenched and gritted his teeth. Things did not look good at all for the Ranger but if any more Wreakers showed up the entire group would be caught in the wide open with little cover or defense. As the college student heard the sounds of battle and chaos not far off he realized just how little time they might have.

"I think we're shit out of luck in that regard bro. Who knows when more of those things will show up and then the whole lot of us will be in the shit." Then before he could say another word he heard a truck approaching and he whirled around worried it might be the Russians but was very glad when he saw a familiar face.

AJ grinned toward Sam and his perfect timing as he sort of posted up keeping the compact model rifle at the ready as he sort of turned back and forth to keep track of the group's immediate surroundings. Of course as he sort of crouched down a bit AJ felt just a bit woozey and realized he was probably still not in the best state since he still hadn't really recovered fully from being hit by the shrapnel almost a day ago.

Day 2
Near Area 51
7:15 a.m. PST

Matt relaxes a bit as Jason places a bandage on his wounds and gives him a shot of morphine. Kevin appears out of nowhere and looks him over. "He's in bad shape. Let's get out of here." He picks Matt up in a fireman's carry and lifts him up into the truck, and waves everyone else in, firing with his rifle at a group of Wreakers that gets too close. Small pockets of human resistance stick up against the Wreakers, but the fight is far from over. An AH-64 Apache flies in overhead, recently liberated from the airfield, and its bottom gun begins firing at the Wreakers. The morning sun rises, revealing the carnage around them.

*****

Day 2
Over Utah
VC-25A 28000

"Air Force Two, we are sending you coordinates to land at. Be advised, you are to consider that area hostile. Troops will meet you there when you land, over." The last holdout of humanity, the bunker at Area 51 known as Delta Fallback, continues to contact Air Force Two, which had last departed Washington D.C. carrying the President's family, the Vice President, members of his administration, and Secret Service agents and soldiers. The airplane is running low on fuel. Colonel Benton Green is in for the flight of his life.

"We will be sending escorts to guide you in. ETA 10 minutes. We have also made contact with holdouts in California that will be sending said support, over." Green's copilot, Lieutenant Colonel Nathaniel Reems, is busy assuring the aircraft's occupants that they will arrive safely and updating them of the situation over the PA. Meanwhile, the plane's mobile command center is busy with activity as its members work on contacting remaining U.S. holdouts. The plane is carrying the U.S.'s last hope for survival, and its passengers, if landed safely, could ensure the U.S.'s survival and military counterattack against the Wreakers.

Sam pushed the throttle pedal once more as the heavy truck began moving forward, reminding Sam of the vehicles all those crazies in the army used. A few wreakers started to move towards the truck but found themselves greeted by a truck at least about 215 times heavier then them. The few that did manage to not get crushed were met by someone up top using the heavy machine gun. It was, as Sam remarked to the person sat next to him, a real clusterfuck.

The truck began to pick up the pace and Sam soon found himself starting to bounce over the rocky terrain, some loose sand and shrubs making driving even more hazardous. It was probably due to the consistent bouncing of the truck (mostly thanks to Sam being far too eager on the throttle pedal) and his insistence on trying to stem his bleeding nose that led him to come over the hill at far too fast a pace, it was probably the sight of a small isolated hut that caused Sam to swerve suddenly and swear using at least five different terms as he hit the brake pedal hard.

The truck came to a graceful halt just outside the front door of the hut. The music from earlier was still pumping out as Sam stepped out slowly, taking slightly staggered steps towards the hut. The truck behind him sat with it's engine still purring, it's bodywork covered in the blood of wreakers and even the occasional hand still uselessly gripping the hand rail. Sam opened the door slowly, wanting to disbelieve his eyes. Had he really seen what he thought he had saw?

He took one step through the door, rifle still in hand, body covered in sand, glasses slightly askew and blood pouring from his nose. His mouth dropped open and he let out a little moan as his eye's fixated on his prey.

"Is that a bottle of wine?" He said to the two occupants of the cabin, "Has it still got anything in it?"

Thanks in no small part to Sam's driving, Mike's head felt as if it was filled with pins and needles and razor blades bouncing around in his skull. At least he didn't have to worry about falling asleep with a concussion. With the adrenaline in his system and his splitting headache he wouldn't be getting sleep anytime soon. " I swear to God, Sam, if you don't let someone else drive next time I might just need to knock you out!" Mike shouted with a mix of annoyance and pain. Rubbing his temples he tried to calm his headache though really it did nothing. Nearby Matt was lying down, he seemed better now but still Mike had to worry about the bite marks. Hell by the end of this new day Matt could be half eaten but still be standing and Mike wouldn't question it at all. Hovering over him was Kevin Roth, the scientist brother of the President himself, how and where he came from during that hectic firefight Mike still didn't know. It was like he just materialized out of the air. Mike couldn't say he mind but he had to laugh at the thought of Kevin being magical'.

By the time the truck came to an abrupt halt, Mike was the first to jump out towards a nearby tree and vomit on the ground before him. Through gasps of air he shouted his hate of Sam's driving with the utmost importance before bile filled his throat again. When it was over, Mike merely spat on the ground and attempted to get the taste of his own stomach contents out of his mouth though without something strong like liquor he doubted it would go away soon. Going back to the truck he grabbed the G3 rifle and for the first time noticed the hut. Tilting his head, he had to wonder why Sam chose to stop here. It was clear though it wasn't abandoned from the silhouettes of people in the window as well as the presence of light. Mike made a jog up to the door to catch up to Sam who had by now was staring wide eyed into the small cabin.

"It's impolite to stair, Sam!' He shouted as he approached," didn't your mother ever teach-" he stopped as he looked inside and his mouth too fell open. Not to the wine but instead to the two very hot looking woman inside," uhhh," was the sound that came out of his mouth for a while before finally he caught hold of his sense and and stammered," Umm, yeah, Sam!" He flicked the back of the young man's head, not enough to hurt but enough to get his attention," You're freaking people out with your bloody nose and holding a goddamn rifle in your hand to these very nice ladies." He made an emphasis on nice without knowing causing himself to mentally punch his own face he also had to admit he didn't look much better then Sam with blood stained eyes and face and crusty looking hair. "Sorry for the intrusion ladies, we uhh... just got out of a very unhealthy party and my friend is an idiot with no driving skills... and..." he wandered off. His eyes fixated on the other woman without the tattoos running down her arms. She looked eloquent and unstressed with clean clothes and features. He had to admit this was not something he expected given the situation the world was in. There was something else though, something horribly familiar.

His eyes widened again and he clapped a hand to his forehead sending shock waves of agonizing pain through his head causing him to wince and shut his teary eyes with pain," Ouch that was a stupid idea," he muttered but quickly rebound," but I just recognized you! You're Lauren Miller, dear bloody god I can't believe I didn't realize it sooner." He stopped and thought," Ah crap I'm coming off as a fanboy, just I've read your book, Nevermore, at least a thousand times and all and just.. well I.... Ah crap this is really awkward." What he also failed to mention was his slight crush on the author and her writings. Just the way she wrote, well Mike couldn't help but realize how dull and boring his own writing was compared to hers.

Lauren had moved to her desk and opened a drawer in order to dig through it and find her phone charger. She had brought it... or well she thought she brought it... The various items in the wooden drawer clattered and rattled as she moved them, mountains of pens, a few more notebooks, batteries, a screwdriver, a flashlight, some tape, a stapler, an ipod charger but not the black wired plug for her phone. Wonderful. She pushed the drawer shut a bit harder than she likely should have causing the slam of wood against wood to ring through the little house before she turned back towards the girl.

"Look, I think you might just need to sit down and take a breath and calm down for... a..." her words trailed off as she heard the rumble of a vehicle and music? The next thing she knew another kid, which looked as if he'd gotten into a fight with a bully after school or something, had welcomed himself inside and this one had managed to bring a rifle along with him. Her brown eyes locked on the latest gun and she felt her body threatening to lock up again. Rifle, of all the guns why a fucking rifle? Why the hell were kids showing up at her cabin the middle of the desert armed? And why did he want to take her wine of all things?

Hearing the door creak yet again, her eyes flicked towards yet another arrival... her attention would have quickly returned to the rifle again under more normal circumstances, but these weren't remotely in that category. The man who walked through could have passed for a zombie himself if he simply had a bit of rotting flesh. Her eyes as she gaped at the sight of the blood covering his face and crusted in his hair. And before her mind really registered anything he was going on about how he'd read her book. On the chart of confusion Lauren could now declare that she had well passed the realm of extremely confused, soared past baffled, lept over confounded, skipped across perplexed, and was currently befuddled.

A shaky hand brushed back through her hair before she turned back towards the boy and finally seemed to remember that she could still in fact talk. "Y-yes, that's wine. Ensure the safety is on and put the rifle down and you can have the bottle." She wasn't inclined to tell the kid holding a rifle no. Her attention shifted back towards the one with the bloody face and glancing at him she had to cringe a bit. "W-would you like something for ah... your head?" Get everyone settled and then get unconfused, yes that was a plan or well sort of. It would have to work for now.

Mike tilted his head watching her eyes move back on forth between the pair of them. No doubt they looked like something that stepped out of one of her own horror books. It was when she spoke about Sam's rifle did he make the connection, before she had been eyeing them when they first arrived and it made sense seeing that they had not some hunting rifles that many might have around these parts but military grade hardware. That was the blatant reason. Mike continued to stammer when she addressed him," Umm.. yeah sure if you have anything." Nudging Sam he went on," Sam let's leave our rifles to the side now, the last thing I want is for you to embarrass me by blowing a hole in the ceiling. After your little driving I'm prepared to strangle you if I wasn't so tired." Looking around, Mike left the rifle with the safety on and the clip out next to the door. He was hesitant at first take the clip out for fear that something might ambush them but they had enough guns around to counter anything. Stepping out of the door he shouted to the rest what was going on that basically they just wandered into someone else's cabin and she was freaked out, also to leave their guns on safety and out of the way.

Leaning back in he stood awkwardly, he had the urge to check his head again but he was afraid he'd accidently poke his brain or something.

"The safety? I don't know-oh. Oh."

Sam put the rifle's safety on before placing it to the side slowly. "I'm so sorry about that, I can't imagine what this looks like. I mean I haven't showered in twenty four hours, hell about twenty four hours ago I hated guns but now I feel lost without one. You poor sods, you probably both thought you're the only ones left alive."

Sam took off his glasses and tried wiping them on his shirt, only to find it completely bloody. "Okay. Do you have some tissue? Then we better get moving, it's dangerous for you to stay here. No way are you safe."

"I told you!" Cris cried, looking over at Lauren. She glanced back at the boy who seemed to be rambling a bit and said, "She didn't believe me when I told her about the things." She rolled her eyes, apparently unaffected that random dirty strangers were barging into the cabin and talking very fast. She had been a random stranger just a few minutes ago after all.

She walked over to the counter and grabbed the pistol and ammo, refusing to leave it behind. When she came back she pulled off her jacket and handed it to the boy. "I don't actually know about tissues, but you can use my sleeve if you want. It's clean." She remembered when she was little, before she had been allowed to get contacts, she had been stuck in glasses for a few years. Being unable to see was the worst. She was a little bothered by the thought of blood getting on her brand new, white Vera Wang jacket, but this wasn't really the time for that. Humanity had sort of gotten past that point, and she needed to as well.

When she heard the other guy talking to Lauren, internally she practically cracked up laughing. Oh, what her mother would say if she saw that seen. You don't recognize my daughter but you can drool over some middle aged author?! She could even hear the shrill tone. She would reply with Stop it. She's not middle aged Ma, unless you're admitting you've hit menopause...

It kinda sucked, now that she was finally away from her all she could do is think of what she would say.

Sam took the jacket, completely failed to recognise the expense of it, before using it to wipe his glasses and face clean. He handed the filthy thing back, "Thanks for that. Look, we all better get moving we won't be safe stationary for long. We've got injured in the truck too."

Sam tried not to think callously and label the injured Matt as dead man walking. Instead he walked towards the wine bottle, picked it up and nodded at the two new survivors. "I'm Sam by the way. Last of a dying breed."

AJ worked steadily to clean his G36 in the truck. He wasn't quite as unsettled by Sam's driving as the reporter guy seemed to be but he chalked that up to coming from a state of insane drivers. AJ sort of wanted to kick himself for not knowing how to properly clean the weapon that might be the difference between a horrible gruesome death and surviving, but he figured the least he could do was to make sure there were no outside imperfections at least till he found someone who had better knowledge. He glanced toward the military troops for a moment but given one was possibly near death and the other was trying to save him AJ held off for the moment.

After cleaning along the barrel he ejected the magazine and then checked and realized that there were only five rounds left in the magazine and he only has one clip left for the gun. For a moment he removed one of the shells and sort of twisted it back and forth in his hand and he vaguely thought he heard some people talking nearby and a few of them were voices that didn't belong to the group.

Placing the 5 round magazine into his utility vest he inserted a fresh clip into the G36 and then hopped out of the truck and heading over to where Mike and Sam had gone off to. Looking around and keeping the gun at the ready AJ noticed the hut and the weapons near it and took a few steps over.

"Hey Sam whats the deal?" AJ asked as he glanced back and forth to keep prepared in case of the trouble that seemed to be following the group like a blag rash.

The truck came to a halt, Jason knew he would never let that kid drive again. They came upon a small cabin, why it was in Area 51 was a mystery. Jason, allowed Matt to pass since he was in worst shape of the group; the others began talking. Jason entered behind the others when Sam mentioned wine he knew cabin was occupied. Maneuvering through the crowded entrance, he raised his eyebrows at the sight of the attractive women residing. The first was young, blonde, slender, whom Jason fixated upon for a few seconds. The other was older, brown hair, also very attractive, however became uneasy at the the site of Jason's rifle. Jason looked over at Mike, who was practically enchanted by the older one. Jason snickered, he then noticed the wine and Sam coming for it.

"I'm Sam by the way. Last of the dying breed," Sam said opening the bottle. Jason couldn't help but smirk, he then realized he hadn't tasted much other than whiskey and dirt in past hours.

"Pour a glass for me would ya'? The blood from my lip doesn't taste that well," Jason then said, leaning against the wall next to the girl. The older woman remained very uneasy, he didn't mind, in the midst of a viral apocalypse he didn't care much for first impressions.

"I'm Jason, Marine and pretty much the greatest the guy you'll ever meet," he said smiling, directing his introduction more at the blonde rather than the woman Mike had practically tripped over himself, for. Sam tossed him a glass along with the bottle, Jason poured the glass halfway. Tossing the bottle back to Sam who clearly had no need for a glass.

Cris smiled slightly.

"Greatest guy ever huh? I'm honored to make your acquaintance then," she replied. Even with zombies all around them and the world ending guys would guys and girls would be girls she supposed.

She paused for a moment before introducing herself. "Cris," she said after a moment. "I'm Cris. Pretty much the most talented gal you'll ever meet." She was actually referring to her guitar playing, but right after it came out she realized it probably didn't sound quite like that. Oh well. She wasn't one to rephrase... or care, for that matter.

"So before we just ride off into the sunset with you guys, where exactly are you taking us? No offence or anything, but you don't exactly scream safety," she mentioned, holding up her now ruined jacket, blood already donning the sleeve from Sam's glasses. Not to mention they all looked terrible.

Day 2
Area 51
7:30 a.m. PST

Kevin still keeps Matt in the truck, and keeps working on him, sewing, placing bandages, and disinfecting. Blood soaks through his clothes but he continues to stay alive, albeit comatose. Kevin yells for a soldier to get everyone moving soon before twisting to Mila. "You didn't happen to get any blood on you, I hope. You were awfully close to Matt."

Meanwhile, Knowles enters the cabin. "Everyone, Doc says we need to leave. We'll form an attack plan in the truck. Hey, any if you two got a radio or cell phone? We need to report into Command." Outside, the few surviving soldiers fidget, nerves on edge.

OOC: Guys, my connection is not working again and will not be fixed until Saturday. I plan to be on as much as possible then. In the meantime, don't get to the lab yet but formulate that covert plan and get everyone loaded up. Lindsey, move the plot along as needed.

Sam's erratic driving was something Mila'd experienced before, with the first Humvee trip they'd taken. It honestly didn't bother her very much, due to the fact that there was little in the way. That was, until the cabin came out of nowhere. Going up and down gravelly little Nevada hillsides had been almost fun, stomach clenching aside, up to the point where Sam nearly launched them all into Lauren's kitchen.

Opening her eye from the cringe she'd made, Mila peered through one of the windows at the house and watched as Sam, Mike, and Jason exited to go inside. She, on the other hand, had decided that she was much better off staying put, what with the near whiplash she'd gotten from the Stalker and the fact that her face quite likely resembled a rancid piece of fruit. The bruises were going to be massive, she could just feel it.

Dearly hoping that the expedition party would find the house unoccupied, or at the very least on "friendly" terms, she settled for watching the door for any activity, listening for trouble, and generally trying not to stare at Matt's wounds. She felt sorry for him, sure, but open wounds still freaked her out, especially around the neck. She subconsciously rubbed a hand across her jugular, feeling dried blood that had been spattered there.

Almost as if he'd been waiting for her to notice the crimson stain on her skin, Kevin prompted her. "Well yeah, who didn't? You've got it all over you too. As long as it doesn't break the..." she paused, her fingers gingerly patting the area around her sliced cheek. "Oh. Crap. I don't really know if any got in or not. A lot of this blood is mine, I think. I know my cheek was bleeding pretty heavily earlier..." she spoke quickly, a tiny bit of her former worry creeping back in. "No I'm fine. I'm sure it missed it," she denied even as she ran a hand through blood-crusted hair.

Time to change the subject.

"How's Matt holding up?" At least asking him a question meant that he would have to do the talking. Her busted lip and bruised face ached miserably every time she tried speaking.

Jason smiles in reply of the Cris's introduction, he decided now wasn't the time to get know anyone. They would be on the move soon, Jason figured they would rendezvous with the surviving forces and would proceed back to base. The human race could no longer be divided as it once was, every one was in it together and survival was key word. Jason decided to take his mind off depressing things, taking of a sip of the wine that he savored for as long as he could. He observed Cris's tattoos, each unique swirling around her arms, they almost seemed...poetic.


Cris began to reason about random survivors being untrustworthy, she had a point, as Jason opened his mouth to explain Knowles ordered everyone back to the truck.

"Come on, you two. You won't survive if you're cooped up in this shack, you gotta come with us," Jason orders gusling down the rest of his wine and heading out the door. He didn't know whether the two were following, however, he was confident they wouldn't feel safe in cabin much longer.

Jason hears Knowles request for the radio, seeing his fellow Marine, Brandon, he knew they were in luck.

"Brandon, give Sergeant Knowles you radio. Unless, one of those fucking Wreakers took it," he says. Brandon takes his radio from out his backpack, handing it to Knowles. Jason, sit in the truck near Mila not saying a word to her, after all the hell they'd just been through he'd only heard her voice once.

Sam sighed at the fact that he was leaving what looked like a comfy little shack and pulled his rifle back onto his shoulder, "Why trust us? Good question. Why trust a large well armed group, travelling in a armoured vehicle? I mean that might mean we've got safety or it might mean we're just going to take what we want."

He lowered his voice and glanced back to the truck, "If you ask me I wouldn't trust these guys as far as I can throw them, but I have a irrational hatred of governments. But hey, what else are you going to do, wait around in this obviously highly defensible fortress?"

Sam walked back to the truck and pulled himself inside the cabin, sitting behind the wheel. He looked back behind the grate and into the truck's passenger area, "Where are we going?"