Realistic or Modern T-Minus Never

[Hard Boiled]

Charlie kept his arms crossed, slowly looking around as everyone gave their recollections of the events, until his eyes locked onto Flanagan's. He didn't plan on speaking until he was specifically asked to, and nobody had bothered to ask him. Though, after everyone else had spoken, he felt as though all eyes were on him.

Jordan had a good heart, but was incredibly naïve to think the Mall could do anything to avoid being consumed by NUSA, and if not for their current position, Charlie would've cracked a smile at Teddy's account. As usual, the Lieutenant was cocky and flamboyant as ever, telling off the founders with little regard for himself - admirable, but stupid, given how little foresight the founders have shown in the past regarding similar situations.

He ground his teeth for a moment before answering the prosecution.

"Ms. Roberts was bitten. We solved the problem."

Not bothering to look in Agent McCarthy's direction, he threw in his two cents to Flanagan.

"For what it's worth, he's right. Look at it long-term." Out of all of the Founders, as terrible as they were, Mark Flanagan was Charlie's least-disliked. As a captain of the medical team, he was more connected with the founders and the rest of the brass than the average Mall dweller, and sometimes even did their personal checkups. It just so happened that, a few years ago, Charlie discovered that Flanagan had a heart murmur that could become life-threatening at any moment. More than likely, it was caused by calcification due to age and poor health practices, and there was nothing they could do with the resources at hand. He hoped Flanagan would take this into account when considering what to do with all of the people that will almost certainly outlive him.

"Think, Mark," he tapped his chest with one finger. Besides not being hanged, all Charlie wanted right now was his backpack and a room-temperature cup of Mall-grown tea. His twenty-one word testimony was all he had, he crossed his arms and leaned against an expanded metal table next to Sybille.

 

[Viper Actual]

Eyeing the young girl- Jordan- with a half-amused, half-curios expression as she intentionally bumped into him, strode forward and made a case to dismiss Fredrik's obvious taunts. Indeed, she was brave to take to the stage and while her heart was clearly in the right place she allowed her feelings to get the better of her. To Fred it all looked like an impulsive spectacle, like a child desperately trying to hide the hurt caused by a few ill-meaning words from a stranger of a faraway land.

Still, Fredrik admired her spirit. There wasn't a lot of that to be found these days unfortunately.

But then Jordan said something which struck a nerve deep within Fredrik's mind;

"You came to seek our help so please don't discredit us as some idiots, we are soldiers in our own right."

Soldiers. Fred's right hand was slowly balled into a fist. No, no you are not.

Eyes darkened, Fredrik began to zone out as he stared at Jordan. While she did indeed have spirit she was naive. Completely and utterly so. Out of all the folks in this gigantic mall Fred was sure that he was the only real soldier present. All the other soldiers had laid down their lives years ago when society imploded on itself- with Fredrik having had a front-row ticket to see it all happen.

*
​

EIGHT YEARS AGO...

CAMPINAS, BRAZIL
02:11 Local Time

Despite being far into the night the city of Campinas was still abuzz with life. Larger and more central streets were still crowded with traffic whereas bars and street restaurants showed no sign of easing up for at least another two hours as far as clients went. While tropical in nature, Brazil was unusually warm this summer with the current heatwave showing no sign of dropping. Fans and air conditions units of all shapes and sizes were working overtime as even the most hardy of brazilians struggled in the heat. Nights were slightly cooler and as such it was as if businesses and bars had all silently agreed to simply adapt their opening hours to match the same hours that showed the most activity.

Having no reason to complain the locals carried on with life as they knew, albeit during different hours of the day. Unknown to them however there was trouble brooding in the darkest of shantytown shadows.

Red light filled the UH-60 Blackhawk- marked with the text Polícia Militar on its tail in bold black letters against the grey hull- as it descened down over Campinas. Inside the cramped troop compartment were several black-clad individuals donning various types of military uniforms and uniforms. Most wore the all-black uniforms of the infamous BOPE unit whereas some wore a mix and match of camouflage gear paired with green, tan or black vests, dropleg pouches and masks.

The non-BOPE operators currently seated in the back also wore the emblem of the United Nations. Colored grey and black the emblem also bore two crossed swords above the iconic globe and wreaths. Clearly, whoever these operators were they weren't your typical UN human right's observers.

No, in reality they were a part of a special multinational UN task force. While recently founded this team had so far experienced no shortage in missions. Behind all the everyday troubles and politics of the world there was a rumor, a rumor of a new age plague. Some theorized it was alien, some theorized it was a bio-weapon and some theorized that it had thawed out due to global warming.

Regardless of its origins the UN had formed a response-team with the primary functions being to locate, investigate and contain the supposed plague.

Currently one team was already on-site in Cape Town, South Africa to investigate the rumors of a "patient zero". Unfortunately the UN response could perhaps have been a bit faster as one lead they had gathered spoke of a potential infection aboard a cargo vessel destined for Rio de Janeiro. Having left Cape Town days before the UN team deployed a second team had been deployed to intercept a potential secondary source of infection.

Luckily the brazilian authorities had (for once) been capable enough to recognize a unknown disease when they saw one. Despite initial casualties within the favelas local law-enforcement had managed to cordon off a large portion of it with the help of military forces. Even now some sections of the infamous Rio de Janeiro favelas stood ablaze as the government ruthlessly purged any trace of the plague.

Sadly, a single member of the crew had left the city of Rio beforehand. While his colleagues were either isolated in containment or dead and packaged neatly into body bags awaiting examination from UN specialists this lone sailor had managed to get home to Campinas relatively quickly. Fortunately for the UN team this very same sailor had been admitted to the local Samaritano hospital after his relatives called for an ambulance. Now all that remained was to track him down, secure him and isolate his relatives before the virus could spread any further.

Easy enough? Maybe, maybe not.

Fredrik stared into the visor of the gasmask currently resting in his palms. Thanks to the red light of the troop compartment he could just barely make out the details of his own face, or rather, the little he could see that wasn't covered by a black balaclava. He sighed and glanced to the others next to him. Counting Fred there were eight UN operators onboard the helicopter with another six ground-side and en-route to the sailor's home adress.

It was all very hush-hush, due to the extremely delicate nature of the mission. UN emblems was the only identifying factors on the operators. With the blessings of the federal government of Brazil the UN operators had been given all the support readily available to them. Sure, Fred trusted the BOPE-cowboys as much as he trusted any other trigger-happy super cop with a machine gun but as far as support went it was at least something.

Hopefully they wouldn't need all of this, hell, hopefully they might not even need their guns. Hopefully.

The UN team leader- Kane- cleared his throat. "Masks on," he said before slipping on his own gasmask followed by tightening the four straps wrapped on and around his head. Fredrik did the same and once the mask was secured he placed a firm hand on the filter and took a deep breath to make sure that it was properly sealed. Next up he pulled on his helmet. In this case it was a lightweight carbon helmet with no ballistic protection as they didn't expect to get shot at.

Once the helmet was on Fred made sure that his singular monocular night-vision tube was fully functioning just as Kane reached around and tapped the co-pilot on the shoulder. With its fingers flat he moved his right hand back and forth across his neck. Kill the light.

Nodding, the co-pilot said something in Portuguese before turning off the red light in the back. One of the BOPE operators seated next to Fredrik also flipped down his night-vision goggles though in his case they covered both eyes and unlike the UN operators neither of the BOPE members wore gasmasks. Fredrik silently hoped that they were really good at holding their breath in case of an airborne contaminant.

Kane inserted a fresh magazine into his rifle, a German H&K HK417 chambered in 7.62, before looking up. "Alright team, you know the drill. We touch down at the hospital, rendezvous with the head medical examiner and locate the subject. If needed be lethal force has been authorized, in the event that he does not comply. BOPE guys will keep the LZ and entry point secure while we go about down in the wards. In the event that the subject has expired we'll bag him and prepare a stretcher. In the event that one or more relatives are present we have been authorized to detain and secure them as well though in that case I will call it in and recommend a ground-side transport. Clear?"

"Clear," replied Fredrik and the others as they too readied their weapons. Upon loading his AK5C Fred received a friendly elbow to his side and as he turned to look one of the other operators- Anna- gave him a nod. "You good?"

Fred nodded and knocked on his helmet twice. "Good," he replied. Anna smirked briefly before nodding once again. Supposedly she was a biologist and former member of the United States Peace Corps. At least that was what they had been told with Fredrik having his own theories regarding Miss Biologist. Then again all members of the task force had their own heavily-censored and redacted stories to tell with Fred being one of many.

Nearing the hospital which was now visible in the distance the Blackhawk descended further. From here Fredrik could see the bright white color of the hospital building as well as lights surrounding its rather large parking lot which would serve as the landing zone (or 'LZ' for short) for the United Nations team. Though as he laid eyes on the hospital Fredrik immediately felt his gut turn;
Outside the main entrance stood an ambulance with its light still flashing and not far from it a local police vehicle which also had its lights on. Despite the commotion usually needed to warrant such a response the hospital seemed to be surprisingly silent.

One of the BOPE operators had noticed this as well and uttered a silent prayer as the helicopter made its final descent towards the parking lot. Fred could feel himself tensing up as the dimly lit tarmac below came closer and closer for each passing second until finally the wheels of the helicopter made contact. Instantly the masked team of operators climbed out and shouldered their rifles. Red and green beams of light danced across the few vehicles parked in the lot as the UN team formed a chevron and advanced.

Behind them the BOPE squad formed a square and tossed out glowsticks to mark their position.

Fredrik tightened the grip around his rifle as he and his teammates cautiously approached the hospital building. From here they had a perfect view of the staff entrance... which had been knocked open and nearly torn off from its hinges. Kane raised his hand, causing the chevron to slow to a halt. That's when Fredrik could hear it;

Sobbing and murmurs. A dark figure stepped out through the door, having seemingly wandered back and forth through the corridor inside. Fred narrowed his eyes and used his left hand to turn up the volume on his ComTacs. Now he could make out distinct words from the person; "Me perdoe... Me Perdoe... Me perdoe..."

Then the figure stopped and fell silent. Slowly, it raised its head to reveal the face of a unknown man. Covered in blood and with bloodshot eyes to match the man more or less growled at the masked operators upon spotting them.

"ME PERDOE!"

And that's when he took off into a sprint towards them. Fredrik's eyes widened and his finger pulled the trigger all the way down.

*
​

Taking a deep breath, Fred refocused and ceased his staring. The last thing he wanted was to start a fight with a teenage girl. Suffice to say there were far greater worries lurking about. At this point however he had zoned out for so long that he had missed both Teddy's and Sybille's words while also only catching the final sentence of agent McCarthy which was bound to grind some gears.

When the Mall doctor that had accompanied them also spoke up Fredrik remained silent but crossed his arms, waiting for the tribunal to conclude.

 

[Aeris]

So they were going to stand trial for this...

Ashlynn silently followed the group out of the cell and into what used to be a food court. She frowned, this is where their fates would be decided? The last time Ash had stepped foot into a mall had been weeks before the outbreak happened. She'd been invited to go shopping with a group of girls from school, her parents had been thrilled to see her finally making friends. Heck, she had also been thrilled. It had felt nice to hang out with people her age and have fun being a teenager.

Oh, how she wished to go back to those days...

She'd caught some of the statements the crew was presented, but quite frankly her mind had wandered elsewhere, it's not like she planned on putting in her two cents or anything. The last thing this group needed was Ashlynn speaking up and risking the possibility of saying something she'd regret. If the founders were smart, they would let the group go, just a stern talking too, and then they'd be free to go about their lives again. Ryan had made it very clear what would happen to the mall should his crew die.

Should they all live though, would she want to continue living in the mall? Ashlynn hadn't intended to stay here for as long as she has been. The plan had been to keep moving, to get as far away from her hometown as possible. Unfortunately, she had gotten too comfortable. It was easy to stay here where she was guaranteed some form of safety. Ashlynn knew staying in the mall would only weigh her down. She'd be left wondering for the rest of her life what happened to the people she loved and blaming herself for their deaths. She knew she needed closure, even just the smallest reassurance that her family is resting easily and not a part of the walking dead. Ash shook the thoughts from her head, now wasn't the time to contemplate her future, especially when this could very well be the end. What was important now was sitting through the rest of the trial and praying they would live to see another day.

 

[queendilettante]

Flanagan loudly cleared his throat in a motion to silence the group. He darted his eyes quickly between the hodge-podge group on trial before coughing and scratching at the left side of his chest. He whispered to Janet next to him, but he had already made up his mind and ignored her response. He quietly sat and stared at the people on the stand. The silence he let them bake in tasted like honey on his lips; a not-so-subtle but all important reminder of who was in charge of the Mall and, by extension, all of their lives.

Sybille felt that message as a knot in her stomach. Fuck, just end this please, she thought to herself. Her lack of sleep and too-early rise had gradually caught up with her throughout the day; as it stood then, adrenaline had come and run its course through her body more times than she could count and its potency diminished to effectively nothing. Even despite her and her groups' present circumstances, she had to fight to keep her eyes open and in focus.

"To the accused party," Flanagan began, his deep voice just barely cutting through Sybille's exhaustion, "We, The Founders, have reached our immediately binding conclusion." He cleared his throat and shuffled a few pieces of bamboo paper in front of him to mime checking notes despite the fact that he had not written anything down. "The accused representatives of the NUSA, Ryan McCarthy, Fred Davis, and Eden Winter have been found not-guilty of causal involvement in Founder Katherine Roberts' untimely death." Sybille's eyes shot to the DHQS members, but Flanagan continued before she could gauge their reactions.

"The accused immigrants and citizens of The Mall led by Sybille Rayne: Charlie Skarsgård, Teddy Callahan, Lars Thompson, Ashlynn Everett, and Jordan Khatri have been found," he paused, savoring the fear and anticipation, "also not guilty." Sybille let out the giant breath she hadn't even realized she was holding. She looked over her crew one at a time before resting on Jordan, smiling. So, I'm really not going to get any of them killed today.

"However," Flanagan continued once more, injecting his voice between the group as they started to celebrate. "The Founders reiterate our assessment of the unacceptability of this failing. Sybille, as the leader of our troops and the primary assigned liaison of this mission, you bear the responsibility for all of your failings." He cleared his throat and put his papers down; his dark brown eyes met with Sybille's. "Please see me in the Founders' offices immediately. The rest of you are dismissed. Todd is outside with your weapons and equipment."

-------------------------------------------------

Sybille stepped into Flanagan's office unable to hide the grimace from her face. She had been in a daze in the walk over and couldn't remember how much time had passed between the trial and then. Probably only a few minutes. Probably?

Her mind shot to Claire; would she ever be able to find her? She had spent so much time working her way through the ranks of this hellish mall in order to have the leverage to get herself across the border and back to New York, and for what? If the Founders made anything clear in that show trial, it was that they had heavy thumbs they couldn't wait to crush her and her crew with. She shook her head and fought back tears. I have to get out of here.

Flanagan's heavy footsteps echoed across the hall behind her. Her back tensed and her shoulders tightened, but she didn't turn around. The sound grew closer and Sybille wasn't sure if she'd get a knife in the back or a hand on her shoulder, though as he circled around her, she realized it was neither.

"Sit down, Sybille." He said, sitting behind his decrepit desk. She pulled an old folding chair from against the wall and followed Flanagan's orders. He pulled a bottle of gin out from a drawer on his scratched and wobbling desk before pouring himself a tall, neat glass. He took a sip with no reaction, much to Sybille's surprise and annoyance. "We know it wasn't you," he started as if he hadn't just taken a large gulp of straight gin. "But, we also know you won't tell us who it actually was." He frowned into his glass and looked at Sybille with frustration plastered upon his face; the chipped lead paint and damaged asbestos lined drywall around the office perfectly matching his aura of unpleasantness.

"You're on watch, Sybille. You've got one more chance with us." He gulped down the rest of his gin and patted his stomach, barely managing to suppress a burp. "We're watching and we will see you, Sybille. Don't make a mistake again." He got up without looking at her and started toward the hall again before stopping in the empty doorway. "You're lucky we're giving you that dog back alive."

Before Sybille could respond, he walked away and left her in stunned silence.

 

[evermoon]

Ollie wiped the sweat from his brow as he slid out from beneath the undercarriage of an old Camry. The thing was barely holding up, the years and miles on it having clearly taken a toll, but he was confident that it could keep chugging for a little while longer after this repair, but the car was definitely nearing the end of it's glory days. Between the rust on the fingers, the gouged out scratches in the driver's side door, and the half-burned out engine? The driver would be lucky to get a full year out of the old gal before it had to be tossed.

Slipping the wrench he'd used back in his toolbelt after wiping the grease off on his coveralls, Ollie climbed to his feet with a huff. He wasn't looking forward to telling the owner of the Camry that the car was on it's last legs, but he was sure with a smile and a bit of exaggerated positivity, he could get by without the man getting too angry. After all, even to an untrained eye, it was pretty obvious by looking at it that the old mid-size was destined for scrap before too long. Short of wrapping the whole car in rolls of duct tape to keep everything held in place, he wasn't sure what more could be done to keep the vehicle from becoming junk. With one last pat to the hood of the Camry, Ollie left the car in favor of getting a drink, adjusting his toolbelt back into place as it started to slip off of his waist.

He was grateful to discover he had stashed an old soda in his backpack when he opened the bag, and in his excitement, he drank a third of the thing in what was little more than a gulp. Despite being sealed, it had gone flat a long time ago, but the break from drinking plain water was appreciated even without carbonation. Slapping the lid back on, he tossed it in his pack and shoved it back under a desk, trying to keep it from getting in the way. He didn't wanna be the guy making everybody trip over his shit, after all.

Feeling refreshed, and already a little bored without another project to occupy himself with, Ollie took the chance to slip out the front door of the shop. Rayney Day Mechanics, where he had been working to get use out of his pre-apocalypse mechanics training, was fairly empty at the moment, save for the cars and Ollie himself. While that did mean it was a little lonely inside, it also provided him the chance to slip out for a moment. It wasn't like he had anywhere to go, but he didn't want to, either; he simply wanted to spend a few quiet moments outside by himself, face turned to the sky. Despite himself, he smiled. Calm days, quiet days, were the easy ones. Sometimes, it was nice to have nothing to do.

The smile slipped from his face, however, when he remembered the trial. He'd heard about it, of course, since practically everybody had. Ollie would be lying if he told you he understood exactly what was going on, but he got the gist. Sybille and her crew had gotten themselves into trouble. Courts and trials and such weren't really his thing, and it feared he would only get antsy the longer it had drawn on, so he'd avoided going. Now, however, anxiety started to creep in as he worried about the outcome. Was everything going to be okay?

 

[queendilettante]

Sybille was running the wrong way up West 4th Street late at night. There were no cars on the road, and all of the buildings stood tall and pristine; the campus of NYU was seemingly left completely untouched. The many streetlights flickered over the empty and too-well-paved street. Where is she? Sybille thought, forcing herself into a sprint.

There! A woman was standing alone in the distance in the middle of the road. Claire, it had to be. Sybille pushed forward with everything she had, her lungs burning and screaming for her to stop. "Claire!" she called out. The woman under the streetlight turned toward Sybille. It was her. Tear started streaming down Sybille's face as she ran as fast as a Vector. She was finally going to be reconnected. After all of this time, she would be able to be with her wife again. She felt a tendon in her foot snap under the pressure and speed she was running at, but she kept pushing. The pain immediately subsided and Sybille didn't slow down.

Wait, why could she keep pushing? She glanced down. Her clean hoodie was now torn and bloody; her hands were streaked with black veins and spit was wildly flying from her mouth. "Claire! No! Run!"

Her wife turned to her, horrified. Sybille could see tears streaming down Claire's face, as she turned away horrified, but too late. Sybille tackled her wife and tumbled along the asphalt. Sybille pinned her down, smiled, and bit into Claire's juicy neck, rupturing her artery and spraying blood over the clean street. "Imsorryimsorryimsorryimsorry," she cried, but Claire's blood tasted too sweet to stop. She took another bite. It was sweeter than the apple juice she had accidentally poured splenda into one time. She bit again. It was sweeter than the birthday tasty cakes that gave her two cavities in elementary school.

I found you, Claire.

-------------------

Sybille shot from her bed, screaming. Tears raced down her cheeks and she breathed heavily. She looked down to her hands and saw her normal pink undertone instead of the black. She grabbed at her foot, which had all of the tendons intact. "Fuck." She let out a deep breath and Santa ran up to her, now awake and deeply concerned. She scratched her dog behind his ears absentmindedly, but couldn't shake the image of Claire's body from her mind. Or her taste.

"Fuck!" she yelled again, appalled. Santa jumped and whimpered, but she was too furious to notice. She paced around her small room above her shop; the broken furniture, the peeling wallpaper, and the candles strewn about for light were painful reminders of the life she lost in this apocalypse.

They were the most disgusting things she had ever seen.

"FUCK!" Sybille screamed and punched the wall above her bed, her fist tearing through the weak drywall and getting lodged inside. Shit, she thought to herself, immediately filled with embarrassed regret. Santa yelped and hid under a table. She pushed against the wall with her right hand to try and pull her left from its imprisonment. With the help of her foot, she managed to yank her left hand from the wall, but she cut herself on a nail in the process. "Wonderful," she grumbled, examining the nail; it was red, though she hoped that was from her blood and not rust. I wonder how long tetanus shots last.

Sybille took a deep breath and threw her leather jacket over her shoulders. She wrapped one of her bandanas around her bleeding hand used another to keep her shoulder length wavy pink hair out of her face. She walked down the stairs, completely unconcerned with waking up Ollie. If he was going to wake up, he would have already. In truth, she felt bad about brushing him off the day before, but she was too shaken by the trial to talk to him when she returned to the shop. I'll buy him one of the silver-level meals to make up for that later, she thought to herself.

As the door slammed behind her, Santa trapped inside, Sybille realized the sun had yet to rise. Well, only one doctor would be awake right now. Sybille took a deep breath again and started the trek to the hospital. She trudged her way through the security gates and into the Mall proper in a haze. As she approached the hospital, she saw a man with similar hair to her, though undyed. In her unfortunately long time at the Mall, he had become the only person Sybille felt she could call a friend.

"Hey Charlie."

Hard Boiled

 

[Viper Actual]

"The accused representatives of the NUSA, Ryan McCarthy, Fred Davis, and Eden Winter have been found not-guilty of causal involvement in Founder Katherine Roberts' untimely death."

"Surprise, surprise..." Muttered Fredrik, glancing at Eden and McCarthy. Like he had already pointed out all of this had been nothing but a charade and as such the outcome had been expected. Then, as the crowd started to clear out Fred relaxed slightly and approached Ryan. "I'm going to check out our gear and the dronkey. After that it's about high time we find some place to crash, sir."

*​

As the party went their own ways so did Fredrik and after a short interaction with Mall security he felt slightly more at ease now that he had his rifle and gear back. McCarthy had issued him some basic instructions in regards to finding a place where the DHQS team could sleep and with that in mind Fredrik enlisted the help of a pair of security officers- one senior and one junior- to find a suitable locale.

To begin with the structure needed to be located relatively near the center of the Mall but not within the Mall itself. While fortified, the main Mall structure was far too crowded and included unnecessary risks such as a high number of angles to attack, no height advantage, complex layout and brittle walls. No, instead Fredrik insisted that the officers would lead him somewhere better and after a short walk they escorted him to a small two-story structure that- based on its partially deconstructed sign- once had been a currency exchange.

Apparently Mall security had utilized it as a security station at one point but eventually moved on and according to the senior officer (whom had been around during that time) plumbing and water were intact alongside rudimentary electricity. Heating was offline though and there were no kitchen appliances so the DHQS crew would either have to rely on MREs or head town to any of the local kitchens for a warm meal.

Lack of kitchen appliances aside Fred liked the look of the place as he stepped inside; greeted by an empty waiting room followed by barred and reinforced counter and door. Back in the day clerks would have been seated behind the safe comfort of such armored stations as they handled american dollars and foreign currencies but now it would serve as a first line of defense against any infected individuals trying their best to claw their way inside.

Behind the reinforced facade of the counter laid a small staff room, a smaller vault and a room for office supplies. Upstairs contained a manager's officer, a general office for three or four workers and a small conference room. Despite its compact exterior the building contained quite a lot of rooms, offered great protection had several natural defensive positions in a potential zeke-onslaught. Pleased, Fred thanked the officers and sent them on their merry way as he scouted out the rest of the building. The dronkey would be parked inside the vault alongside ammunition and arms whereas any sensitive equipment would be stored in the manager's office for agent McCarthy's convenience.

Upon clearing out the Mall security forces had left nothing behind- it was a scavenger's world after all- besides dusty and/or mothballed pieces of office furniture. While waiting for the others to arrive Fred took the opportunity to set up some rechargeable torches, military fold-up beds and radio charging stations. Once the others were here he'd have to find a way up to the roof to set up some long-range comms which wouldn't be an issue as long as there were an intact antenna or dish ready for reconfiguration.

 

[Vudukudu]

"Surprise, surprise..." Muttered Fredrik, glancing at Eden and McCarthy. Like he had already pointed out all of this had been nothing but a charade and as such the outcome had been expected. Then, as the crowd started to clear out Fred relaxed slightly and approached Ryan. "I'm going to check out our gear and the dronkey. After that it's about high time we find some place to crash, sir."

"Somewhere with a door we can lock, Fredrik. Ideally lots of them." He says with a curt nod, though its not likely the man needs reminding. He takes the time to retrieve his sidearm from the Founder's man watching their things, but leaves the rest for Fredrik to manage as their de facto quartermaster. If they do happen to be missing anything, Fredrik will notice, and then he'll find it, even if that means dismantling the security office personally. While Fredrik leaves to handle that, he turns towards Eden.

"Make yourself familiar with the place. Important faces and names, useful resources, the general layout. Keep in radio contact if you notice anything worthwhile." He says, then gives her a friendly pat on the arm before wandering off himself to do much of the same. It paid to know the local situation and, most importantly, who the levers are here. Getting good will with some of the more influential locals could pay off in the long-term, and in times like these that sometimes just meant giving them a pinch of coffee and letting their kid have a bite from an MRE. Especially when these people were already being exploited the ways they were, it wouldn't take much to set himself apart as something just short of the Second Coming. He couldn't turn water into wine, and he didn't have much in the way of fish, but he did have loaves and he could turn water clean with nothing more than a tablet.

Ryan makes his way around getting the lay of the land for awhile before going to check on Fredrik's progress at their new field HQ. He's impressed with the man's choice. Ryan lacks the same quality of military training, but he does have a survivor's eye for good housing. Not many windows on the ground level, a second story with stairs that could be destroyed to restrict access if absolutely needed, good sight lines. It was good they got to stake a claim on it.

Seeing that Fredrik's already unpacked an office for him, he sorts through it to arrange it to his liking before settling in. They'd had a hell of a day, and he was inclined to take some of it off at least until the evening.

 

[Hard Boiled]

Charlie
Sybille
--
"Mmh?" He grunted, unsticking his palm from his cheek. "Oh. Hi, Syb."
Charlie rubbed the drowsiness out of his eyes. She'd caught him sitting at a desk half-asleep, propping his head up over an open notebook filled with a stark contrast of well-formed reports with messy doodles littering the margins.

Unlike Sybille, Charlie never had such nightmares - he was rarely asleep long enough for complex dreams to form. Whether it be an emergency, a bump in the night, or any other such disturbance, he usually got ninety-minute sleep rotations, generally for a total of around five and a half hours. Over the years, he'd grown terrible dark bags under his eyes, and despite still being in his twenties, a few gray hairs. He wasn't sure how long he could keep it up, but he'd burn that bridge when he got there.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" He greeted a bit sarcastically, standing to meet her with a half-assed smile.

Sybille met the doctor's sarcastic smile with a sincere one of her own. "Ah, well," she started, bandana'd hand behind her back, "I had more, uh, unpleasant dreams." She walked over to another desk and sat down, maintaining eye contact with Charlie. Smiling somewhat apologetically, she pulled her hand out from behind her back and removed the bandana. "I, uh, got a little worked up." She laughed to herself, hoping to downplay the entire situation. "Punched a wall and happened to cut myself on a nail."

Charlie's exhausted frustration quickly fizzled into a mellow buzz, that strange feeling of euphoria when sleep deprived. After a few seconds of thought, he didn't mind being woken up, he needed the distraction after what had happened the day before. He'd ask her about her nightmare, but priority was the wound.
"Punched a wall and cut yourself on a nail," he repeated, slipping on a pair of nitrile gloves, which were in surprisingly good supply. "Maybe find something a bit softer to take your anger out on."

He held her hand up to a nearby desk lamp.
"Mm.. Pretty deep puncture. The good news is, you don't need stitches. The bad news, there's a good chance it'll get infected without antibiotics. Did you get a tetanus booster within two years before the Crash?"

Sybille cleared her throat, somewhat uncomfortable. "I-" she began, unsure of how to continue. In all seriousness, she had no real discernible clue as to what her pre-Crash vaccination records looked like. "I'm not really sure. I got quite a few vaccines over my first year in college and into the summer following, which I guess would be within two years, but I couldn't tell you when tetanus was." She laughed somewhat apologetically in an attempt to lessen the blow. "I take it the supply of antibiotics dried up years ago?" she asked, not really expecting an answer.

She looked around the rundown department store turned hospital. Despite their shortcomings as people worth even spitting on, the Founders did an admittedly impressive job in structuring and maintaining this old Mall. Sybille wondered what they were like when the Crash happened; not just any ragtag group could found a settlement that grew into what the Mall was.

Charlie figured that, if she's twenty-nine years old, she should have another year left before she'd need a tetanus booster. That in mind, he'd keep a close eye on it.
"We have penicillin," he answered. "They grow it upstairs out of moldy bread scraps and fruit."

Sybille returned her gaze to Charlie. "Not that, uh, this," she motioned to her bleeding hand, "is good evidence to this, but I don't usually get so worked up that I punched walls." She looked down and bit her lip; she wanted to fiddle with her left earlobe like she normally did, but her hand was preoccupied. "This dream was... different."

He motioned towards a sink in the corner with his head, holding her hand steady as he guided her over.
"You wanna tell me about it?" He laid her hand on the bandana next to the sink, grabbing a small first-aid kit to clean it up.

"It was-" Sybille began before feeling her voice catch in her throat. She looked over toward the sink at the closest thing to a friend she'd been able to find since her and Claire were separated. It wasn't that she couldn't trust Charlie, she knew she could; he had proven time and again how genuine his care was for every patient (barring the Founders) that walked into his underfunded hospital. But, Claire? She was a different matter. How could she trust someone would survive with her in the hell they suffered through? What if she finally found a person she could trust in Charlie and he disappeared too?

She looked down and twisted her wedding band around her finger. "I just don't kno-" she tried to say, voice breaking in the process. She bit her lip and sighed.

"Hey, take your time. I'll be here all night." He wasn't going to push her, he found that people often revealed more the less you asked.

"Count of three, ready? One, two," on two, he quickly dabbed the wound with a cloth soaked in mall-made disinfectant, a mix of hydrogen peroxide and vinegar. Rule number one of medicine: whenever you give a countdown of three, do it on two. With that, he stuck a bedsheet-bandage on her hand and wrapped it snugly.

"Ah!" Sybille jumped slightly. "Count of three my ass."

Charlie chuckled.
"Change the bandage once a day, twice if you can. Let me know if it swells or gets too red, I'll put in a word for some antibiotics."

With his doctoring complete, he shifted into his therapeutic persona, pulling a stool around the other side of his desk for her to sit on and returning to his seat.

"I've been thinkin' about my brother recently. Wonder how many infected he's killed, he always loved those stupid zombie movies..." He took a sip from an old liquor flask filled with water, hoping his divulgence would ease Sybille's out.

"Your brother?" Sybille responded, still hesitant to give in and spill her guts to Charlie. "Why are you separated?"

"...He, uh, he was still in the city with my parents during the Crash while I was at school upstate." He absentmindedly tapped his fingers against the side of his desk. "Haven't seen them since a month before the first quarantine."

"I'm sorry," Sybille mumbled. Sure, New York was one of the first cities to be reclaimed following the erection of the NUSA, but it wasn't pretty before that. "My parents were in Brooklyn. I was on my honeymoon with Claire when-" she stopped herself again. She twisted her dented ring around her finger again. "I just- I've got to find her."

Sybille smiled and stood up. "Thanks, Charlie."

Claire. Finally, a name to go with the ring.
"We'll find her. We'll find them all." They both knew with almost full certainty that they'd be inconceivably lucky to find even one of them, but they needed the hope to keep them going each day. Such is life in a one-and-a-half-million square-foot concrete box.

"Keep that hand dry. Once a day," He repeated, making a circular motion with his finger to signal changing the bandages.

"Will do," Sybille responded, forcing a smile. She didn't know what else to say to her friend, but she also feared going back to her shop alone. "Mind if I just sit here for a while?"

Seemingly pausing to think for a moment, Charlie opened a side drawer on his desk and retrieved a deck of hand-made playing cards.
"Know how to play Gin Rummy?"

"Yup, do you know how to lose?"

 

[Togy]

Lars was disinterested at best when the conclusion was reached. He didn't find himself very surprised at the verdict, considering he was convicted in his idea of the crew's innocence. Even corrupt leaders knew there was no foul play involved here. Everyone with some ounce of intelligence knew the only way to get to a Founder without it being obvious is by making it something anyone could've done. Something everyone could've done. Killing a Founder while in a small, cordoned-off group was just asking to put a target on your back.

However, Lars was just happy to finally be released. He wasted enough of his time entertaining such mundane and pointless councils. Lars went to grab his gear from Todd, someone Lars didn't even look at as he scooped up his mask, weapons, and utilities. Before he left, though, Lars made sure to meticulously search through his confiscated belongings to ensure nothing was trifled with. He paid special attention to his mask since that was a rare find in this part of the world and he was sure lackeys would ogle and fidget with it.

Lars prepared his gear after equipping himself with his weapons and utilities. Upon seeing Teddy exit the audience chamber, Lars decided it might do both of them good to get out of the Mall for a bit. They both enjoyed being outside, or at least he thought, so he figured he'd extend an invitation. "Teddy," he called, meeting up with the Canadian. "Let's you and I go kill something outside. I want to get something done today that doesn't involve listening to the Founders talk." He didn't really care who listened in, it wasn't slander and he was pretty respected around the Mall. He wasn't worried about someone snitching on him.

Wiping away the sneer aimed towards the founders' general direction, Teddy plastered a smile on his face as he turned to look at the taller man. "Thank god, thought no one would ask. Too much bureaucracy in this place" Teddy said cheerfully, a hint of distaste in his voice at the last part. Teddy may have found it very, very difficult to dislike people, but even he felt the raging urge to dance on the founders' graves. He wasn't afraid to do something stupid to get back at them, so his best bet would be to get out and relax a little before he flew off the handle.

Lars caught a glimpse of Ashlynn off to the side. He raised an eyebrow before saying, "Hey, Ash. Why don't you tag along. Could use an extra pair of hands out there after all the ruckus of today. That drone strike probably stirred up a lot of infected."

Ashlynn let out a sigh of relief upon hearing the final verdict. Thank Gods. Of course, it would be a really dumb move to execute the group when there was nothing that could have been done. The founders most likely knew this already. But now what? Was the mission already over? It hadn’t exactly gone to plan, not that Ash had expected it too. She shook her head slightly before turning to exit the food court. There was no use thinking of those things now, they’d done their job and now it was time to go about the rest of the day. “Thank you,”

Ash collected her belongings, offering a tense smile to the guard who had it. She peeked inside to make sure her things were still intact, not that it was a lot. What she was most concerned about were her books. It was hard to find undamaged books nowadays and Ashlynn cherished the ones she did have. Only when she was sure everything was good did she swing the backpack over her shoulders. Now what?

Ashlynn stood off to the side to collect her thoughts. She had entertained the idea of taking a couple of days to just relax. Given the events of today, the last thing she wanted was to rest, her mind wouldn’t be able to turn itself off for who knows how long. Ashlynn’s hand automatically went up to her necklace as she contemplated what to do next.

Her attention snapped to Lars as he invited her to tag along with him and Teddy. “Infected?” The thought of seeing more infected after today didn’t sit right with her. However, she didn’t exactly have any better ideas. Besides, the fresh air would be a lot more welcoming than the mall. Ash hesitated for a moment, allowing her face to shift into a more neutral tone. “Sure, I’ve got nothing better to do.” She tucked her necklace away before moving to stand next to the two men. “Lead the way.”

Ashlynn nodded along to the instructions before making her way back to her space. She stepped around the scattered books to grab her green utility jacket. Before exiting the space, Ash took one last look around as to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Only when she was satisfied did she make her way back to where Lars was. Ashlynn gave a hello before pulling out a book to read while they waited for Teddy.

Ashlynn barely got through a page before Teddy suddenly popped into view. He'd donned a camo hunting jacket over his red flannel button-up and tie-dyed T-shirt while ditching the colorful scarf and putting on a non-matching, darker green boonie hat. His aviators, of course, stayed. With his backpack and rifle slung across his back, Teddy looked like he actually belonged in the apocalypse for once. The jacket and hat screamed disuse, with grass stains and bits of caked mud mixing in with the camo of the jacket and small bits of dust spilling off the hat's brim.

So far the hunt, of course, wasn't exciting in the least. Teddy hadn't even found a target to shoot at, not a bird or squirrel in sight. Sure, he'd seen a flock of birds flying off to the East, but following after them would take too much energy that he just didn't feel like expending at the moment. He could have taken a shot from there, but he didn't have to be the one to say how that's a one in a million shot. He preferred to only take shots he could hit, thank you very much.

Besides, he wasn't desperate for food. If he was really desperate, he'd be eating the Cicadas off the trees as he speaks. He's done it before, they tasted alright fried, he's not ashamed of the fact.

Anyway, point was, it didn't matter if a hunting trip wasn't a high octane adventure. Sure, Teddy liked to think of himself as the kinda guy who's on a first-name basis with action and adventure, but he's long since learned to appreciate trips like these. It's tranquil, lets him focus his energy on something, and feeds him.

Back in high school, he'd actually planned on being a professional hunter. Then he'd gone to college, got married, and moved to the city. The dream had fizzled out, but never extinguished. It'd been one of the few things he'd ever really found motivation for. He'd be the first to say he was a quitter, he'd given up on more things than he could count. Little league, flight school, the police academy, hell, even his marriage. But never, not once, did he leave a hunting trip early.

A couple of minutes-or hours, he hadn't been paying attention to the time-later found Teddy carrying a satchel full of edible plants and a rabbit on his hip. The rabbit had been a lucky find, as skinny as it was. He would've thought that the mall had stripped the forests around it clear of game, but he's been wrong many, many times before.

"I wouldn't eat half of the plants in my bag unless I was dead and dying already, but food's food, right?" Teddy asked, his usual cheeriness radiating off him as he took inventory.

Lars performed his hunt as he always did; with practiced skill and almost inhumane silence. Lars spread out from Teddy, knowing that they had a much better chance at finding things if they covered more ground. It was always his preference to go hunting in the deep woods, where it was easiest to become just another strange shape among the brush. Realizing Ash may not have the experience Teddy or himself had, he offered to give her a few pointers on his specific ideas on how to catch game easiest. Lars was rather good at setting traps and catching small game which was mostly what he decided to tell Ash about. It expended less energy than actively hunting; just check the traps from time to time, and food essentially comes to you.

Lars was quite successful with his bounty. A handful of mushrooms and berries he'd foraged while showing Ash all about the traps was an added bonus to the few rabbits he caught. It wasn't a large catch to be sure, but this trip was more for getting away from the situation at the Mall. Breathe in the fresh air, partake in a hobby to get the mind off it. Sometimes Lars even wondered if the apocalypse even happened when he was out. Maybe it was just a far-away dream he once had. He liked to pretend when he could. Probably the only thing that kept him sane at this point.

When he returned to the designated return point with Teddy, Lars nodded in approval at his catch. Lars knew Teddy was capable at the activity but it was nice to see he was really as good as Lars thought. "We managed to get a few morsels here and there. Some berries for what it's worth." He turned to Ashlynn. "You did well. Be proud of what you accomplished today. Next time we all go out again, you should set up some traps on your own and see what you can catch."

Ashlynn tucked her beloved book away before turning to follow the two men outside the mall. She breathed in the fresh air, happy to be outside once again. Honestly, Ash wasn’t even sure why she had wanted to return so bad in the first place. There was nothing for her in the mall, she was simply here for convenience.

When Lars and Teddy split up Ash chose to follow Lars. She listened intently as he explained different techniques on trapping and the sorts. Her heart ached as memories of exploring the woods with her dad emerged. He had never been a particularly good hunter, but she had loved spending the mornings with him all the same. Ash blinked away tears that threatened to fall. Now wasn’t the time to think of old times, she could do that later when no one was around.

Ashlynn couldn’t say she wasn’t surprised by Teddy as they returned to the meet-up spot. He’d looked like a good hunter and clearly, from what she could see he was. She turned her attention back to Lars and smiled, “Oh…thank you, I can’t wait!” Ash has meant it too. Being out in the woods with these two was not only a breath of fresh air but a nice way of reliving the old days with her family.

Teddy shot the two a grin as he brought up a knife to the side of his rabbit. Nice to see them getting along. Stopping just short of cutting through the outer fluff of the rabbit, Teddy turned to Ashlynn. "Ever skinned a rabbit before?" Teddy asked, kneeling with the critter hung over his knee.

“Ah um…” Ash directed her attention off to the side. That was the one thing she could never stomach. “My dad wasn’t very good at hunting, he was more of a foresting person, so I’m afraid not.”

"Right. Well, watch this" Teddy said before pulling out his hunting knife and pinching a clump of fluff between his fingers. "Stab in the middle of the body, make a hole through the pelt, alright? Big enough to fit a couple of fingers in" the Canadian instructed as he made an incision into the rabbit's side, cutting through the soft fur before holstering the blade. Grabbing each side of the incision with two fingers, Teddy calmly looked back to Ashlynn.

"And now, tear!" Teddy spouted out before ripping the pelt off the body. The fur rapidly tore down the middle of the body, revealing fleshy muscle and sinew as the two halves of the pelt slid over the body. Tearing off the pelt, the only bits of fur left on the body where the head and feet.

Holding up the limp, fleshy rabbit, Teddy gave an unfittingly cheerful smile as he attached the critter to his hip. "And that's pretty much it! Figure we should head back now?".

Ashlynn stifled a scream as Teddy ripped open the rabbit's pelt. She covered her eyes with her hands only peeking through her fingers when Teddy had finished. She watched as he hung it to his hip. “That might take some getting used to…” She nodded in agreement at the suggestion to head back.

 

[Vudukudu]

A week passes in the Mall with Ryan doing his best to ingratiate himself with the community. Sharing pinches of coffee grounds, getting to know the locals, cultivating informants, and lending his knowledge to the Mall where possible. One of the DHQS' favorite diplomatic tools is a database known to the Department as the Survival Guide, though he liked to call it the Poor Richard's Almanack for the End-Times. Written by some of NUSA's surviving scientists, the Almanack is a scientific guide to just about everything one might need to support civilization in the apocalypse. Guides to cross-pollinating crops, maintaining soil quality, regional guides to edible wild flora, instructions on how to produce useful chemicals, natural medicines, how to reuse spent bullet casings, the ideal way to set up latrines, how to harvest rainwater safely and cleanly, and more are tucked into its digital pages, all of which happen to be organized and compiled tidily on his laptop. Of course, the Mall had managed to survive on its own and learned quite a lot in the meantime, but it never hurt to have just a little more knowledge. Being able to gatekeep it made him valuable.

For the most part, Ryan is content to let Eden and Fredrik manage their own time, provided that they do it usefully. That mostly means sparing a few of their medical supplies on locals, and in Eden's case, lending her services to the security team to help keep the fence clear. Otherwise, he checks in with them twice daily and cuts them loose - they had been chosen for their independent streaks and trustworthiness, after all. With comms up and running, he can start feeding information back home to his superiors, and its on day 8 that he receives orders. DHQS wants the nearby municipal and hobbyist airfield outside town secured so that they can send a truck full of fuel for small aircraft to setup a refueling station. Normally they'd trust the drivers and a small crew to quietly lock the place down, fill one of the tanks, and leave. This airfield would need a bit more of a firm touch.

Madillan Airfield was an enclave, at least for awhile. Survivors had trusted its tall fences to keep Vectors out, hoped that pouring dirt over the airstrips would give them land to grow crops on, and repurposed the hangars for living in. They'd built up a substantial population in the early days and even managed to build out a shanty town throughout their space, preserving the airstrips and some green space as fields, and they might have rivaled the Mall if it weren't for a hot outbreak. No one was clear on the details, and there weren't many survivors. Those who did live through it had scattered to other enclaves, and as far as DHQS could tell, no one had the full story.

What that meant in practice, though, was that Ryan was being asked to secure a large, unfamiliar, and maze-like space that more than likely still had dozens of Casualties inside of it. Its not like they moved far, and given that the calamity had seemingly come from within, the fences that kept the dead out also kept the dead in. He'd need more than the team he came with, and that meant calling in a favor. Making his way to Sybille's workshop, dressed in a pair of camo pants and a sweat-stained white t-shirt with his sunglasses on, Ryan raps his knuckles on the garage door. Sybille doesn't seem to be around, and he passes his message onto one of her staff.

"Need a hand. Several, actually. Get me bodies, guns, and ammo, and DHQS will repay the favor. Meeting's tomorrow at noon, conference room by my office."

 

[Viper Actual]

One would think that spending one weeks time at a new location with new routines and surrounded by new people would make the days go faster or- at the very least- make it all progress slightly faster than normal.

Unfortunately for Fredrik this had not been the case.

After fortifying their makeshift command post within the reinforced steel and concrete walls of the currency exchange Fred had found himself with an abundance of time. Sure, every now and then McCarthy needed him to patch through a new relay or tinker with the rooftop antenna as soon as long-range communications showed even the slightest hint of being a tad spotty or delayed.
Fredrik honestly believed that McCarthy was a bit of a nitpicker but in truth he didn't the menial task of acting as the agent's local IT-support.

Sadly those moments were both rare and short which ultimately resulted in Fredrik having nothing to do.
Granted, there were plenty of things he could do. Realistically though, how much use was there in checking your entire arsenal twice a day? Oil the dronkey? Polish his personal firearms?

As much as he wanted to help out or just expose himself to some old-fashioned physical labor there were plenty of reasons why he couldn't.
To begin with it wasn't safe. Walk off alone into the wrong neighborhood and surely someone would try to ambush Fredrik, kill him and steal his gear in the belief that it was all much more worth than it really is.

Secondly very few (if anyone) trusted him and in times like these not being trusted also meant not being spoken to or asked for help. If you don't trust the stranger, why would you let him help you? Fred didn't disagree with the logic.

Lastly there was a third (technically a third and a fourth) reason which hindered Fredrik from doing whatever he pleased: Coyt and Rawson.

Unsure if it was due to his general appearance, allegiance with DHQS or just because someone didn't like him someone at the top of the Mall food-chain had decided that Fredrik should be escorted at any given time he wasn't at the currency exchange. At first he had been slightly annoyed by it: Two grown men in a militia stalking his every move In such an amateurish way that they had unintentionally given Fred the opportunity to wipe the floor or even kill them, had he been that kind of a guy.

Now however his annoyance had passed and the two junior security officers no longer attempted to sheepishly pursue Fred with the utmost of stealth. No, after having a rather long chat with both of them Fred had convinced the two security officers that he'd let them tail him as long as they stuck around to talk with him. The offer seemed to have worked as both men were currently with him on a smaller firing range located beneath the Mall.

Surrounded by sandbags, layers of cardboard and- surprisingly- some actual soundproofing taken from some music studio were a series of scattered paper targets. Half of them looked like they were from a gun store whereas the rest were taped together from cardboard and newspaper which had then been spray-painted with faces and targeting circles on their "torso".

Fredrik was currently looking through a spotter's scope mounted on a mini-tripod, focused on one of the actual paper targets which had an angry-looking face on it belonging to a very generic soldier figure carrying a fictional assault rifle. While normally battery-driven to allow for wind and drop calculation the range was no more than a hundred meters long and as such Fred could easily spot using nothing but the analog functions of the scope.

As he was looking through the scope and elbow accidentally bumped into his right hip which was followed by a 'sorry' as the marksman next to him shuffled and shifted. Rolling his eyes Fredrik looked up from the scope. "Rawson?"

The man next to him- dressed in iconic US woodland fatigues coupled with a hunter's webbing- stopped his erratic movement and looked up from behind his rifle. "Yeah?"

"Stop moving," said Fred dryly. He looked back down into his scope. "Casualties or bandits don't matter; everyone would be able to hear you moving around like that. I don't think I need to tell you what your odds would be lying prone in some hole if a zeke shows up right next to you."

Rawson muttered something inaudible before scooting himself forward slightly to tighten down his entire posture while tightening the grip around his rifle. "Apologies, sir. Won't happen again." In the back next to the wall Coyt rolled his eyes.

"Don't call me 'sir'- I'm not your superior. Just focus on the range. Forget about everything else."

Nodding, Rawson sighed. "Target in sight. Wind?"
Fredrik stared at the target. "None."
"Distance?"
"Eighty meters."
"Eighty meters, roger." Said Rawson. He shifted slightly, adjusting his aim on the target.

Fredrik continued to stare at the target. "Shooter is cleared to engage. Fire. Fire."
He could just about make out the sound of Rawson taking a deep breath right after switching off the safety on the rifle. Then came the shot which echoed through the room and once it reached the far end of the room the bullet had already struck the target since long.

A smirk briefly appeared on Fred's face. "Hit, center-mass." He looked up from the spotter's scope and tapped Rawson on the shoulder. "Good shooting, Rawson. Next time we'll shoot outdoors."

Rawson smiled and nodded as he chambered a new round and clicked on the safety. As he got up and went to take a seat by the wall Coyt met him halfway and high-fived him before taking up position behind the rifle. Fredrik adjusted his posture as Coyt readied himself.

"Alright Coyt, let's see what you can do..."

 

[queendilettante]

Unchanged color/Pink: Sybille
Red: Ash
Green: Teddy
Orange: Charlie
Yellow: Lars
Blue: Ollie

Sybille groaned as she rolled out of bed. Judging by the streaks of light in her room, it was early evening. Maybe if I started sleeping at night, she thought to herself, before groaning again and using her sore legs to stand. She had work to do.

Sybille walked around the room, grabbing no more than twice-worn clothes to put on all the while, when the hole in the wall caught her attention. She felt her face go red at the sight of it; an unfortunately constant reminder of her desperation last week. She shook her head, threw her leather jacket on, and went downstairs.

Santa joined her on the way, clearly excited to see her. She scratched at the somewhat matted fur under his collar, which Santa clearly appreciated. “Gotta find you a brush, baby,” she gently spoke toward her dog.

As she arrived at the ground floor of her shop, she spotted Ollie, one of her employees, relaxing at the counter. Maybe Ollie would be a good replacement for Jordan; afterall, he was capable and an adult. Still, he was her usual go-to in holding down the fort while she was away on SecDep business. Eh, fuck it.

"Hey, Ollie," Sybille started, questioning herself as soon as she began. An image of Jordan flashed in her mind and she shook her head. She couldn't let that girl accompany them again. "Would you mind joining me on a mission out in the field? We're meeting up with the DHQS leader, Ryan, in an hour at their outpost in the inner wall."

"Ollie blinked, almost taken aback, before he caught himself. "Yeah, no problem," he replied, maybe a little quickly. As much as he enjoyed the sense of security that being within the mall provided, he wasn't going to turn down a chance to do something more than just fixing cars, do something that could make him feel helpful. "Should I bring anything with me?""

Sybille rubbed her forehead, unsure of how to respond; most people she worked with tended to spend a decent amount of time outside the gates on their own time. "Uh... weapons, probably," she began, trying to think of what was in her backpack. "A face covering of some kind for infected splatter would be helpful, some bandages to wrap up any non-infected related injuries, extra shoes if you have the space," she continued listing everything she could think of to her employee before pausing at the last item. She bit her lip and pulled on her left earlobe somewhat nervously. "And- if you'd prefer latency to immediate death, one of those 'vaccines' could be helpful." Sybille looked at her feet, thinking of the way Charlie executed Kat.

“Ah, sorry-” she said, noticing how she killed the mood. “Just meet me there in an hour if you’re interested.” Sybille turned before Ollie could respond, left the shop, and clicked her tongue for Santa to follow. Who’s next on the chopping block?

Sybille swung her shotgun onto her shoulder and started down the road before stopping immediately. As if on cue, she spotted Lars and Teddy walking together in her direction.

"-But that brings up the moral implications, because Bill Murray was stuck repeating the same day over and over for probably, like, ten thousand or so years. That doesn't mean he just learned a few card tricks and ice sculpting, that means that, odds are, he's killed, fucked, and eaten everyone in that town ten times over just to pass the time. I dunno aboot you, but I think my mental state would take its leave after the second or so thousandth year. So, by the end, Bill likely doesn't have any sort of moral boundaries anymore, and the only fitting epilogue to the movie is him being gunned down by the cops for doing god knows what unimaginable horrors in a children's hospital" The shorter blonde rambled, not even stopping to see if Lars was paying attention. A pause followed.

"Anyway, point is, this rabbit was dying of starvation before I found it, but at least it's not diseased."

Lars, despite being physically interested in inspecting his sidearm, listened to every word Teddy spoke and waited patiently for him to finish his interesting - albeit long - recap. "I completely understand," Lars spoke softly. "A net gain is still more important than a loss. If anything, you helped bring the rabbit to its rabbit god faster." Lars holstered his weapon, adjusted his poncho, and looked over at his shorter companion. "As for Bill, maybe he deserved to be shot, but no one could've known what he was up to in that time. No one could know what we're all up to in an apocalypse. Think your next employer in the modern world is gonna ask how many people you killed after the Crash for a grocer job?"

"If they did, I'd laugh and ask where I should start" Teddy quipped, slicing chunks of rabbit meat off of the bones.

"And, well, that raises the question of whether you should be the only one to know what you've done? Like, sure, who's to judge you, but who are you to judge yourself? Who's to say your judgment or the judgment of others is right or wrong? Is the only one allowed to do so some almighty deity twiddling their thumbs in the great big upstairs, waiting for-shit, rosemary! I was thinking of Rosemary! Right, yeah, Rosemary with rabbit is a pretty okay meal by post-apocalypse standards" Teddy said, riffling through his bag in search of the seasoning before stopping in thought. Was he saying something? Probably wasn't important.

Standing in the middle of the road, Sybille waved to the two men clearly deep in conversation before calling out to them. "Lars and Teddy, just the two outdoorsmen I was hoping to run into."

"Man, hate to say it, but I miss all those ingredients and stuff they put into burgers" Teddy began, so lost in his own spiel that he missed the woman's presence entirely, "You've had, like, a deer burger before, post-apoc, right? Everyone has, trying to relive the good ol' days, but, like, it just isn't the same."

"I mean, they were super unhealthy, but god, would I kill for a big mac. That's not an exaggeration. I would kill that man, right there," he gestured towards a guard patrolling a few feet away, "without a second thought. If it's just us and we find an untouched happy meal and I see him licking his lips, then you can bet your ass he's living on borrowed time."

"Have your big mac in all it's glory, Ted," Lars spoke with an adjustment of his rig. "Next plate of bacon I see, I'll gut every last person on this Earth for it. You can have your burger, so long as I get any bacon we come across." Lars knew he'd likely never taste the goodness of bacon ever again. He'd either bite a bullet or get a bite taken out of him before this apocalypse ever faded away. He took comfort knowing this is how his life was going to be, till the end of his days. But damn, he could really go for some bacon right about now.

Sybille cleared her throat, annoyed at being ignored by the two.

"Anyway," He began. "Back to our earlier conversation. Bill is-" he paused when the familiar voice of the Mall's mechanic and security head rose above all else. She was beckoning them over, curious. Maybe she just wanted a chat after their run-in with the court the other day. He turned to show Sybille his full attention, before saying, "Nice to see you. Can we be of assistance?" His voice sounded somewhat robotic and strange, like most things he said. Like an AI programmed with limited response options.

Sybille spat on the ground and scratched behind Santa's ears before continuing. "You can, hopefully. As it turns out, our groups' particular sets of, uh, expertise have been called upon again. I'm headed over to Ryan's little makeshift DHQS headquarters in about an hour to hear all of the details myself." She kicked a rock on the road and looked up at the sunny sky through her scratched sunglasses. "If you two are interested in working under me again, meet me there."

Humming in response, Teddy lifted his Aviator shades into his hair to stare at the taller blonde.

"You up for it?"

Lars' eyes didn't lift off of Sybille. His expression was unchanging as he thought it over internally. What was he about to get into? He wasn't sure he liked the idea of working with the DHQS again, especially if this wasn't sanctioned by the Founders. However his curiosity was unwavering. After a pause, he glanced over at Teddy. "Gather your gear, we'll meet her there."

Sybille smiled at the two, relieved that they both agreed so easily. She had only worked with them in the field once and it landed them both in court. All things considered, that conversation went uncharacteristically smooth. Sybille turned from the men and headed in the direction of the Mall Proper, passing through the numerous security gates on the way.

At the final gate, a new guard at the gate stopped Sybille from entering with Santa. He was a balding man with bushy eyebrows, but seemed younger than her. “No pets.”

“Excuse me?” Sybille asked, taken aback.

“No pets, ma’am, people have complained about-”

Sybille pinched at the skin between her eyes. “The world ended almost a decade ago and you think, now, the most important thing you could be doing is stopping one of the leaders of the Security Department, the group you work for, from bringing her dog into the courtyard outside of the Mall?”

“Listen, I don’t-”

The guard was cut off as one of his superiors arrived and ushered Sybille through the checkpoint. I gotta start coming to those meetings with the new hires, she thought to herself.

Sybille finally walked through the gate, annoyed at the guard that accosted her, and saw Ash and Charlie talking to each other a few dozen feet from the old JCPenney entrance. That's strange, Sybille thought, I've never seen them together like that before. She jogged out to meet them, Santa at her heels.

About 20 feet from the pair, Sybille called out. "Charlie! Ash!" She quickly closed the gap between them and took a deep breath before continuing. "Funny seeing you two together."

"Just take a step back. It's a small apocalypse, leave some room for Ash," Charlie concluded his therapy session. They'd been talking for the better part of an hour, mostly Ash venting and Charlie giving solemn "mm-hm"s. Sometimes, he found, all someone needed was an ear.

The constant grimace on Charlie's face eased as Sybille made the hundred-yard dash across the pavement.

"Funny seeing you anywhere," he joked with a rare flash of a smile.
“How’s the hand? Let me see.”

Oh hey,” Ash turned her attention to Sybille before crouching down to greet Santa, “ we were talking about the mission last week.” She chose to leave out the fact that Charlie had noticed her odd behavior and was simply asking what had been bothering her. It had surprised Ash how easy it was to talk about that day.

“Speaking of the mission, you didn’t get in trouble right?” Ashlynn had heard Flanagan call to Sybille after the trial but hadn’t been able to find the time to ask about it.

"Ah, here," Sybille held out her hand to Charlie and winced as he poked around. Truth be told, her hand felt basically fine; the only wound left was the embarrassment of punching through her wall in the first place.

Sybille turned to Ash. "Nah, no trouble." At least not anymore than I’m used to. "In fact, it seems I'm so off the hook, that I have to run another mission again. I'm headed toward the DHQS now, actually, if you two are interested?" She raised her eyebrows in tepid anticipation. "After all, both of your skill sets are pretty invaluable out in the field."

Charlie's first thought was absolutely not, but he figured Sybille wanted to go as little as he did, so he decided he'd accompany her and suffer together.
"Mmm... Since you can't go without me," he bumped himself off of the fence he was leaned against, "lead the way."

Ashlynn’s hand froze above Santa’s head. She remained silent as she processed what Sybille had said. In all honesty Ash highly doubted her skills were that invaluable, especially when she froze up the last time.
“ Well…” she paused a second longer before offering a tight smile, “…if you insist.” Ashlynn gave Santa one final pat on the head before standing.

“Great,” Sybille said, smiling.

----------------------------------------------------

The three of them made their way over to the newly designated DHQS headquarters in the inner courtyard. They arrived and chatted as a group as the remaining members of their little squadron arrived. With the full group present, Sybille walked to the door and knocked.

Nothing.

She knocked again. “Hello? DHQS?”

Nothing.

What the hell? Sybille turned to the group. “Hold on a sec, everyone.” She opened the door, which was not locked, and saw a note on a table. She took the parchment and read it over.

Oh boy.

Sybille left the barracks and found herself faced with her entire group. She swallowed hard. This is gonna be a tough sell. Smiling almost apologetically, Sybille explained what the mission was.

“It appears the DHQS agents are currently preoccupied, but Ryan wrote down some details about this mission. Together, we’re going to head over to a neighboring settlement that the Founders lost contact with a month ago to, hopefully, reestablish a safe line of communication.”

Sybille paused and swallowed even harder than before.

“In the event that the settlement was compromised, we are tasked with eliminating all infected and securing any and all intel or supplies the settlement had before the outbreak.”

She bit her lip before spitting out the final message; she couldn’t give them any time to object before she finished.

“We leave tomorrow.”

evermoon Togy Solar Daddy Hard Boiled Aeris

 

[Aeris]

Eliminating all infected.

Ashlynn tensed up at the instructions. It had only been a week since their last mission. A week since she last faced an infected. Since coming back, she had tried to get back to her usual routine and pretend nothing bad had happened. A founder did not get bit by a vector. They did not have to stand trial. They were not almost killed because of the founder’s death.

She should've known it would be impossible to go back to how things were. Whether Ash wanted to admit it or not, last week did happen. Kat Roberts had been bitten by a vector. She did die and no amount of wishing was going to bring her back. This has been the new normal for years now, people were going to get infected and well, they all knew what happened after. There was just no avoiding it.

Ash pushed the thoughts to the side, no use thinking about that stuff now.
"I guess I'll see you guys tomorrow," she nodded to the group before taking her leave. Ashlynn made her way through the mall, offering a small smile every now and again to the residents.

"I was beginning to think you actually left this place.” Marie. Ashlynn turned her attention towards the older woman. Like most days, Marie was dressed in a brightly colored shirt with an equally bright skirt. Her wild white hair was tied back with a patterned bandana. Ashlynn questioned her choice of fashion when she'd first arrived. You stop caring after a certain age, Marie had laughed. Now though, the bright colors poking out among the mall residents gave Ashlynn a sense of security.

Ashlynn managed a weak laugh, "Not yet, actually, I was invited on another mission for tomorrow." She still didn't believe Sybille needed her skills as she had claimed. After all, she wasn't particularly skilled with her weapons like the rest of the group. And she knew little to nothing about medical procedures or mechanics. Her small skillset was definitely not impressive enough that she was important. In fact, she was willing to bet every book she owned that there were plenty of other mall residents who could do her job better.

However, it did feel nice to be needed. Even if she herself didn't see her skills as much use she enjoyed the company the group provided.

"Ashlynn," Marie's voice snapped Ash away from her thoughts, "are you ready for another mission?"

"Yes?"

"Ashlynn."

"Probably not..." Ashlynn never liked to admit it, but even in the short time she'd been at the mall, Marie had gotten to know her well. She was aware of what looking at the infected directly did to Ash. Marie was also the only person who was aware of why Ashlynn had come to the mall in the first place, besides Charlie now. "I'll be okay, sitting in the mall isn't going to do me any good. You said it yourself, I need to make friends."

Marie frowned, but left the conversation where it was. They both knew once Ash made up her mind there's was little anyone could say to change it. Ashlynn cleared her throat, " Marie, I'll be fine, promise. I've done a pretty okay job at taking care of myself so far." It wasn't a complete lie anyway. When her parents were still around, she had been the level headed one of the three of them, always making they didn't do anything rash.

She should've been with them that day.

Ashlynn didn't give the "what ifs" time to form. She excused herself from Marie, promising once again she was going to be okay before resuming the walk to her home.

Honestly, calling it home seemed like a stretch. In reality it was a small makeshift room made from one of the old stores. She'd never gotten the chance to go to college, but she imagined a dorm room would be similar. When Ash had first arrived they'd walked her through the rules and shown her around before stopping in front of the storefront. Despite everything Ash was grateful for the room. Before arriving her room had been a small tent her parents had found. In the time she'd been here Ashlynn had decorated the area as much as she could, she'd added a couple small bookcases she'd scavenged and a tiny side table. Fairy lights and a flower garland hung above her bed giving the room a cozy vibe.

Ashlynn set her backpack down at the end of the bed before plopping down herself. If she were smart, she'd prepare everything now so she wouldn't have to worry the next day. However, even when she was still in school procrastination was a good friend of hers. Ashlynn opted to wait on packing, deciding there was no harm in doing it tomorrow-besides, she was pretty sure she already had everything she needed anyway. Not having much else to do, Ash changed into a pair of pajamas before laying down. It didn't take long for her thoughts to quiet as sleep took over.


~*~
Ashlynn was up at the early hour of nine the next day. Much like last week, she threw on a simple t-shirt and leggings, should they actually run into some infected she wanted something easy to run in. Ash stuffed some extra supplies into the backpack including some extra water and granola bars. After giving everything a final look over Ashlynn set out to the meetup spot.

"Morning," Ash smiled as she approached those who were there.

 

[Vudukudu]

The next day, Ryan rallies his people early in the morning, throws together a quick breakfast for everyone, and even spares some of his rather limited supply of coffee for them. He wasn't excited about what he was going to have to ask them to do today, even if they already knew the mission and what they'd signed up for. Sweep and clear operations were nobody's favorite, his especially. Sure, they'd each probably put down a few hundred Casualties by now, but almost always from the safety of a fortification. Shooting people in the head is a lot less panic-inducing when you're situated atop a fifteen foot high concrete barrier, or from the back of a pickup truck cruising at about five miles per hour at the head of a herd while blasting AC/DC off the speakers to keep them drawn in. Sweeping the inside of several structures, some of them small? No fucking thanks.

"Fredrik, load up the dronkey. Ammunition, every DDJ we've got." He says. Denial Door Jams, as they were officially labeled, were one of DHQS' favorite pieces of expensive single-use equipment. Consisting of little more than a central plate with an adhesive strip on one side and a series of micro-charges, the device's trigger detonates the explosives after a six second delay. When that happens, ten meters worth of carbon nanotube wiring ending in tiny hooks explode outward, creating an extremely lethal tangle of wiring, enough to block a doorway or thin hallway. They were produced by the only facility left in NUSA, a factory in Pennsylvania, and they were a blessing. Anything trying to cross that tangle would just fall to pieces when it tried to walk through. Enormous walls of the stuff were responsible for securing large sections of the Mississippi. More than a few people trying to swim across the river since the Crash had gotten most of the way across only to cut themselves in half on what is essentially invisible barbed wire.

"And the two doses of Suppressin. If anyone asks, they were delivered in last week's supply airdrop, and we definitely haven't had them since day one. Try to reserve them for us, but Sybille gets a shot if she needs one. The others are up to your discretion, if it comes down to that. Today we're masks on, full battle rattle, I don't wanna see a centimeter of exposed skin. I know its Missouri and we're coming up on summer, but I'd rather we be hot and uncomfortable instead of dealing with a flesh wound. Florida, you're on point today. Take a spare sidearm, and anything you think is going to help you with clearing rooms. Usual restrictions on gear are off, I'm sparing nothing to insure today goes smoothly. Lets go stack some fucking bodies, yeah?"

-------------------------------------------------------------

"Waitwaitwait" Teddy shot off like a cannon, frantically gesturing for everyone to slow down as he rummaged through his backpack. Making a noise of satisfaction, the Canadian yanked out a black and white rectangular object and quickly put it to eye level.

"Okay, group up!" He ordered cheerily, stepping back a little as he tried to angle the camera. Frowning at the puzzled looks he got instead of immediate obedience, Teddy, much less cheerfully, snapped "Group up!".

That got them moving. "Nice! Smile!" Teddy demanded, voice as sweet as honey as he watched everyone get into frame. "Charlie, thank you, you've always been my favorite," Teddy said quickly, seeing the man be the first to smile, "Why can't you all be like Charlie?

Squinting in irritation, Teddy momentarily lowered his camera. "Ash. Ash, get back into frame. Ash-stop, come ba-young lady, get back-someone, grab her" Teddy said in exasperation, frowning.

Ryan couldn't be bothered to really give a shit, but he does force a smile when the camera finally flashes.

"You guys have all the bullets you can carry, yeah? Face masks, all that stuff. Today's gonna be a long day." He checks in with everybody. The dronkey sitting beside him is loaded down heavily, toting what is hopefully enough ammunition for a protracted siege of this municipal airport. There's really just no telling how many heads need popping, and its better to go prepared.

 

[Togy]

The camera set off with a flash before ejecting the polaroid photo into Teddy's hand. Holding up the photo to his eyes, he grimaced. Well, better luck next time. Stowing his camera and photo into his pack, he slung his rifle off his back and into his hands.

"Got enough rounds to put down an elephant" Teddy affirmed, eyes roving over the supplies strapped to the Dronkey-which really struck him more as a 'Sparky' but he digressed-taking mental inventory. Silently petting the contraption on what substituted as its head while no one was looking, Teddy made his way over to stand with the group again.

"Are we waiting for anyone else? I'm aboot ready to set off."

 

[Solar Daddy]

Lars reacted the same way he usually did; completely blank-faced, without any indication of how he received the news. If there was one thing Lars had perfected, it was his poker face. Unfortunately gambling was never his thing in the pre-apocalypse world. Now, though, it made it easy to keep others from knowing his intentions. Even in situations where his façade cracked, he had a gas mask as a backup emotion protector. He wouldn't let anyone know a single emotion he felt if he could help it. Not because of weakness or anything, but quite honestly, he just didn't like people looking at him. Lars could go the rest of his life without eye contact and he'd enjoy every second of it. Unfortunately he knew others depended on eye contact as a critical social cue. So, he would oblige others occasionally. But now wasn't one of those times. When Sybille finished reading off the list, Lars didn't say anything except a brusque "okay," before leaving to his own residence. Once again, just like the first mission, Lars prepared his gear in advance, and included a short ritual as well. A simple blessing, and nothing more than a placebo, but something Lars found to positively affect his perception of the coming crucibles. He always prayed to any God who bothered to listen, and would go out of his way to show favor to those that seemed to actually bless him in the past. Did he believe in them? Hell no. Did he think praying actually did anything? Absolutely not. But he was a man of superstition and paranoia, and any favor he could get from divine beings was something he sought. Jesus, the Buddha, hell, throw in Confucius for good measure. Anything that so much as breathed omnipotence was someone Lars wanted on his side.

In the morning, Lars quipped his gear and was similarly outfitted to his previous outing with this group. He didn't vary things just for the sake of new, and what worked before tended to work again. Lars was, as always, one of the first to meet up at the rendezvous point for the Mall portion of the group, glad to know he wasn't contending for first in line with anyone else. He was rather silent as the others trickled in, the group slowly growing as they awaited their leadership to command them.

For the picture, Lars wasn't much for being in it. He barely cooperated by standing in the frame but only barely - a good portion of him was cut off in the picture, with his gas mask on. Lars didn't want any memory of his face shown. People would remember the mask, he was sure. A picture of his face didn't need to be circulating the apocalyptic world where the entire northwest coast was trying to capture him.

 

[Viper Actual]

Fred spent most of the morning readying the team's equipment and whatever they might have double-checked he made sure to triple-check it. Aside from ammunition and rudimentary (as well as more advanced) medical supplies there were long lists of consumable items he needed to bring with them. Spare radios, flares, IR-beacons, batteries, MREs, DDJs and more were all on it alongside solar-powered torches, insulated sleeping bags, a reinforced military shovel, bio-degradable toilet paper.

When all the preparations had been made Fredrik spent the remainder of his time readying his own personal gear and firearms. He wouldn't tell the good folks of the Mall but he had managed to bribe Rawson and Coyt into checking in on the currency exchange when the team was outside the wire. It had cost him some good MREs and one of his last remaining Cookies & Cream power bars but it was well worth the effort, if only for him to really sell the psychological statement of 'There's more where that came from'.

Granted, that was a half-truth as the power bars and MREs were from his own personal belongings meaning they came all the way from Sweden which in turn meant that they were practically luxuries at this point.

Moving on, Fred had secured the armory and any other sensitive equipment they had lying around with some even being hidden. He doubted that the Mall had anyone capable of cracking military encryption this far into the apocalypse but he knew better than to make arrogant assumptions. The last thing the DHQS needed was some IT-nerd playing around on Agent McCarthy's personal terminal looking up anything and everything they absolutely should not have access to.

When the hour came to move Fred was geared up in his usual combat attire but with sleeves rolled down and with a low-profile rebreather hanging around his neck. Taking a quick glance at his rifle before rolling his shoulders Fred was more or less good to go.
During the impromptu group photo he stared blankly at the camera and, unknowingly, managed to blink the very second Teddy snapped the picture. The whole event made him uncomfortable because while taking group photos had been a tradition back home both on exercises and abroad the mission this team was about to set out on resembled nothing like Fred's combat patrols in Mali.

 

[Aeris]

Ashlynn rested her back against a wall before pulling out a beat up copy of Peter Pan. She vaguely heard more of the group arrive but hadn't bothered to look up from the pages. Yes, she had told Marie she would make friends. However, for the now, that was a task she would save for after the mission, when they were back in the mall safe and sound. Ashlynn instead enjoyed the small moment of peace, ignoring any anxieties that were slowly forming in her head. Instead she focused all her attention on her book, Peter Pan had just rescued Tiger Lily from Captain Hook. Unfortunately, Peter hadn't escaped the battle unscathed. Hook had injured him and left him stranded on Marooners rock. Too tired to swim or fly, Peter used the last of his strength to make sure Wendy got off the rock safely.

"To die will be an awfully big adventure." The boy had said, not because he was about to die, but because he had realized he couldn't die in order to not be able to live. And not being able to live meant he couldn't love. That quote had always stuck with Ashlynn, even more so with the state of the world. Ashlynn turned the page to the next chapter. Peter had come to terms with his fate as the water continued to rise higher and higher. But then-

Teddy's shouts yanked Ashlynn from the world among the pages. She watched as he rummaged through his backpack before pulling out a polaroid.

"Group up!"

She sensed it was more of a demand rather than a request. Ash slowly rose to her feet, only, instead of inching into frame she inched the other way, praying she could slip out of the shot unnoticed.

It didn't work.

Teddy lowered his camera momentarily as he shouted for Ash to get back into frame. She ditched the casual approach, choosing instead to get out of the frame as quick as possible.

That also didn't work.

Ash felt someone grab her arm, slowly tugging her back into frame. She looked behind her to see Sybille, who was giving her a smile as if to say you're not getting out of this. Ashlynn sighed before finally looking up and forcing an awkward smile. Only when Teddy was done taking the photo did she sink back down to the floor and returned to her book.

 

[queendilettante]

If I'm doing this, so are you, Sybille thought, glaring at Ashlynn; she hoped the intensity of her gaze and smile would convey the message, but pulling her back into frame by the arm was an effective backup plan.

After the unexpected photoshoot, Sybille let out the breath she hadn't realized she had been holding and gave Santa a treat, a small cured piece of pork from the Food Court, and a scratch behind the ears.

"Are we waiting for anyone else? I'm aboot ready to set off."

"Oh, yeah," Sybille remembered, "About that..." she began, waving her crew in. "I'm not sure if any of you know Leon, a tallish dude with a couple of toddlers, but he'll be joining us today."

 

[Hard Boiled]

"We leave tomorrow."

Lovely. The fastest demotion of his life, hospital director to gun grunt in the span of a week. This was just what he did now, he supposed. They needed someone, he was well equipped to assist, he understood that, but surely there was someone with less pressing matters to attend to. Wasn't like he could argue about it, anyway, even if his life expectancy was just cut in half. Plus, he didn't want to just leave Sybille hanging like that.


Charlie spent the next three hours packing and preparing, making sure there would be no f-ups this time around. He brought extra PPE, both of his two magazines for his sidearm, and even smuggled a single vaccine to be used in the event of a bite. He was not having another Kat incident anytime soon.


Day of the trip, he was admittedly a bit late to the party. He'd spent the early morning organizing who'd be taking over his duties during the expedition, assuring nothing would go sideways back home either. The hospital handled itself fairly well without him, he only worried that a decision would need to be made that he wouldn't be there for. For example, there was an incident a few years back regarding a man who, before the Crash, had a MOLST form (Medical Orders for Life Sustaining Treatment) that included a Do Not Resuscitate order. This man found himself in critical condition one way or another, and a heated debate between the medical staff broke out regarding whether or not they should or should not abide by the order, as it was just a piece of paper now. Charlie ended up as the deciding vote.

The man died the next day.

That said, there needed to be someone in charge while he was away. He decided on an ex-nursing student whom he trusted marginally more than the other staff.


With his substitute - though he felt she was more of a successor at this point - chosen, he made his way to the rally point as one of the last to arrive.

Naturally, the first thing to occur when he got there was a group picture. Charlie figured he may never have his picture taken again, so he thought he'd make it a good one, at least. He stood towards the end of the huddle and smiled brightly, only to turn after the flash and see he was the only one. Oh well.

"Charlie, thank you, you've always been my favorite," Teddy said quickly, seeing the man be the first to smile, "Why can't you all be like Charlie?"

"I ask myself all the time," he chuckled, lightly elbowing Sybille's side. It was rare to pull a laugh out of him these days, maybe he'd stick around Teddy more often.

"I'm not sure if any of you know Leon, a tallish dude with a couple of toddlers, but he'll be joining us today."

"Ah, I know him. He comes around pretty often, whenever he thinks his kid has an ear infection or whatever," he half-joked, holding his hand out for the dog to sniff. "Better get here soon, though."

 

[evermoon]

After his talk with Sybille, Ollie hurried to tidy up things at the counter of the shop before he booked it. Heading up to his room, he stretched out his arms and got to work getting ready.

The first step, of course, was to get changed. He skimmed through the closet for a moment to find what he wanted, before he found the dungarees he wanted. The dark brown color of them tended not to stick out, and the material was hardy enough to survive plenty of hits before it tore. Shucking off the clothing he wore, he redressed in a spare long-sleeved t-shirt before pulling on the overalls. He could feel the weight his swiss army knife that must have been in the pockets, and he hummed, glad he wouldn't have to dig around his room to find it.

Once he was ready, he grabbed his combat knife and shotgun from the top shelf of the closet, tossing them on his bed before closing the closet door and grabbing his backpack. It was an old, green cargo, and when he glanced inside, he noted that there were a few things still packed. Nothing much, just a set of clean clothes, some water bottles, a pair of matchbooks, and a bundle of dirty cloth. It wasn't a lot, but it was a good start.

He tossed the knife he pulled from the closet into his bag, and quickly followed it with a lighter and a few cheap bottles of alcohol. The final touches he added were some granola bars and, after some consideration, his power drill. The thing was hefty, even if it was the smallest one he could find, but it made boosting a car all the more easier, and he didn't want to leave it behind on the offhand chance he would need. He had to change the batteries in it and made sure it still worked, but it whirred to life once he tested it, so he threw it in with everything else.

With the bag all set, he clipped on his toolbelt and holster, making sure both were snug on his waist. The holster already held both his pistol and his hunting knife. He took an extra moment to make sure his toolbelt still had plenty of ammo before he counted them as finished. The last thing he added, after spending a several minutes searching for it, was a face mask, which he pulled over his face and secured around his ears.

Dressed and ready to go, he threw his backpack and his shotgun onto his back before leaving the room. He still had a few minutes to get to the wall, and the last thing he wanted to be was the guy who was late. He rushed down the stairs and out of the shop, only pausing to shove a few more greasy rags into his pockets before leaving. There were a couple people milling about, but he ignored them all in favor of pushing forward and heading to meet the others,

As he approached, he could pick out the figures of the other people waiting. Pushing down a small burst of self-consciousness in his chest, he raised his hand in a wave. "Hey, everybody," he greeted, pulling a small grin onto his face. "Sorry if I'm a little late."

 

[gouache]

“Camille. Leave your bag alone, and eat another bite.” Leon snapped, pointing to his eldest daughter’s plate still full of food she had piled on earlier- in spite of him telling her to take only what she would finish. Camille huffed loudly from her nose, before letting go of the bags zipper they had packed the past following days. It was her own bag, with all her daily necessities and all her chosen items. Specifically all her nail polishes, for some reason. “When are we done?” Camille chirped, as she fidgeted in her chair to sit on her knees. “When you finish eating. So you better hurry.” Leon said insistently, and handed his daughter her fork. “What about Maddy?” Camille asked, stabbing her fork into one of her apple slices and hesitantly into her mouth. “Maddy ate while you were putting your dolls into their beds. Remember?” Leon grumbled while he munched on a steamed carrot. “Nooo..” Camille shook her head, “I didn’t see, so she can eat my food.”

Leon glanced down at his youngest daughter sitting on his leg quietly. Maddy refused to sit in her own chair like she usually would, even throwing fits when he would put her down. He had been woken up at three in the morning by her crying, so the day began with a difficult start. It was clear Maddy sensed something was wrong by all the packing he had been doing for each of them, and himself. He had never done this before, so the sudden change was very alarming to her. All her things being put into luggage upset her, to say the least, considering she would cry each time he put a pair of her clothing away. Leon thought she was too young to really understand what was going on, beside some sort of impending doom.

Unlike his youngest, Camille was told of the future events that would be taking place. He had told her that he would be going on a trip for a bit, and would be back soon. Not going into detail about where he’d be going- just that it was a surprise so she wouldn’t know what the souvenir would be. He focused with her mostly on taking care of Maddy while he was gone, and how important that was. Pushing how much she needed to be there for her, knowing that her baby sister would be very “sad” about him leaving- which was a great understatement.

He often spoke the past few days with the daycare staff, going over his children's schedules and needs, and how exactly the possibility of how Maddy would react to this. That includes apologizing profusely to the staff in advance for what their lives would be like with both his children in their care. Leon let the girls spend time with the staff to get a little comfortable, and Camille right away fell in love with the attention they gave her. Maddy, who was far less enthusiastic, instead hid away in his chest, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge their existence. “That’s nice of you to want to share with your sister.” Leon mumbled with a mouth full of food, “But Maddy said ‘no thank you’, so finish what you got there.” Thankfully, it was enough to convince Camille to take more bites of her breakfast. The silence of Camille behaving gave him enough time to shove more food down his throat.

------

“Where do you want to put your bed Maddy?” Leon asked in an attempt to entice his youngest to come out from hiding in his lap. “Is she usually this shy?” The lead child-care worker asked nervously. She was also trying to get Maddy to come to her.. Or atleast distract her long enough so Leon could run out- but Maddy wouldn’t budge even a bit. Meanwhile, his eldest daughter was busy chatting up the other woman about her plans for their sleepover. Camille had finished setting up her cot with all her blankets, pillows, and dolls gently tucked away. She wasn’t paying her father any mind and was clearly ready for him to go. “Would it be better to just hand her over..?” The woman asked with a frown, they had already tried many different things to get Maddy distracted.

“That might be what has to be done.” Leon sighed heavily. This would be a disaster leaving these two women with his distraught and miserable baby, but he didn’t have another choice. “It would be like taking off a bandaid!” She laughed, trying to lighten the mood.. but Leon wasn’t finding it funny. “I’m sure she’ll forget soon..” The worker warmly said, trying her best to console the father’s daunting and heavy anxiety. “We have so many activities planned for them! She will be distracted in no time, I’m betting on it.” Leon knew that was a bad bet, in fact he was positive this would not go how she hoped it would.

The father slightly moved his arm to pull Maddy a bit away from him, but the second he did, she broke into a shrill cry. Camille stopped what she was doing and turned her head to see what was going on. “Camille, I need your help.” Leon said sternly, having to slightly raise his voice in order for her to hear him. “Yes!” Camille chirped and jumped on her toes over to her father trying to comfort her baby sister. “Remember how we talked about taking care of Maddy when I leave?” Leon asked as he gently took Camille by the chin to have her look him in the eyes. Camille pursed her lips together in thought, but was ultimately distracted by the sound of her baby sister crying.

“Dont cry Maddy!” Camille shouted, turning her head away from her father, “Stop crying, okay!” The eldest daughter patted Maddy on the head, although a bit aggressively. It wasn’t something Maddy wasn’t used to, so Leon watched quietly in hopes Camille would remember what they had discussed. “Maddy, stop it!” Camille impatiently yelled over her baby sister's wailing and gave her a tough slap on the back. The father quickly grabbed Camille’s hand, “Okay! Thank you, that’s enough now.” Leon exclaimed in an irritated tone of voice, “I love you Camille.. Please be a good girl while I’m gone.” He gave Camille a kiss on the face and gave her a tough hug. “Bye bye!” Camille giggled before hopping back to what she was doing. She wasn’t of any help, which was to be expected. Although he still had hoped for better. Leon glared at his watch, seeing he was already going to be late to the meet at this rate. He begrudgingly made the decision to hand Maddy over, even though he really didn’t want to. This would be the first time leaving the girls alone, it felt worse than abandonment. “It’ll be okay, I promise.” The woman mouthed to father as she held out her arms to the distraught baby.. while Maddy was still frantically trying to pull herself back into his arms. This felt like hell and he began to regret his decision to leave for this mission.

Leon gave Maddy a big kiss on the head and on her damp cheek. He tenderly held her warm little head in his hand, “Be a good girl, Maddy. I love you, I’ll be right back.” Leon petted her hair before giving her one last kiss on the face. She was so distraught and confused by the way her father was acting even if she didn’t completely understand he was leaving. The newness of the situation was already too much for her. Leon started to get to his knee, motioning for the woman to pick her up. The moment she put her hands on Maddy, she broke into hysterical screams. He had never heard her so upset in her life, as if she was a wild animal. He had to leave immediately. Leon frowned at the sight of his youngest being so hurt. He could feel his eyes begin to water. “Thank you.” Leon uttered to both of the child-care staff.. Already knowing this was going to be worse for them then it would be for him. The two women just nodded their heads with warm and comforting smiles, gesturing for him to go while he still could.

Leon quickly gathered his leather hiking backpack from the table and swung it over his shoulder. It was rather clunky and with his bow and arrow and water canteen tied his bag. The father gave his two daughters one last regretful glance before leaving. Maddy was violently screaming at this point while the woman had her back facing him to keep the baby from looking. His youngest wasn’t much of a talker, so hearing her calling for her ‘Dada’ was heartbreaking to him. Of course, Camille was dancing around, not giving him the time of day. The father dragged himself out the nursery door and shut it behind him. Even with the door closed, he could still hear her crying. He swiftly trudged down the bustling hallway to escape the sound. As he made his way to the meeting spot did he roll up the sleeves of his well worn white button up to his elbows. He kept his shirt tucked into his pants, but adjusted his leather belt to be a little tighter. Leon could feel the exhaustion from staying up all night in a panic, but hoped the bit of coffee he had earlier would remedy it a little. The grief of leaving his children wasn’t helping either. He ran a shaky hand through his disheveled hair as he was rushing down the stairs. He hadn’t gone this far into the mall in a very long time. Leon rarely went outside the safe and less chaotic area of the mall with his daughters. From afar he could see a small group of people standing close together. He could see a few people there that looked familiar to him. Leon cleared his throat and shook out his hands in an attempt to let out the heartache. He wanted to be seen as his best self for first impressions.

Approaching the group did he notice Charlie. He sighed in relief, thankful someone he knew was right there. Leon noticed others had just got there like himself. There was no point in trying to be sneaky about joining the group considering how noticeably large he was. Before being seen, he hastily studied the interesting bunch of people he would be spending a lot of time with. He would rather avoid greeting everyone for the first time, but his comfort wasn’t of importance anymore. It was already extremely uncomfortable to have his children not beside him. He couldn’t recall a time when they weren’t with him.

“Hello.. Excuse me for being late, I had to drop off my daughters.” Leon apprehensively said, he couldn’t help but feel very out of place with the ache of missing his children heavily weighing on his shoulders. “My name is Leon.” He gave a deep voice, with a small smile to the new faces before fixing his gaze on the ones he did know. It was comforting to see both Charlie and Sybille there, making him feel less of an outsider.

 

[Togy]

Before Leon could even finish speaking, a small blonde blur shot across towards him and snatched his right arm in a death grip. He grip, footing, and strength felt strong, as in, shockingly strong. A Canadian that small should not have been able to drag a man twice his size away with his free hand. There really was no two ways about it, when Teddy wanted you in a photo, you were getting in the photo.

"NicetomeetyouLeon,nicearmsthereman,notevenahandshakeandIcanjustfeelhowfirmthatgripis.Ifeellikeyoucouldcrackbonesinthepalmofyourhand,noproblem.Weirdthoughtbutfirstthingtospringtomind,whichisn'treallytoobadbecauseI'vethoughtaboutwhatcomesafterdeathandwhatit'sliketodie,andletmetellyou,that'ssomegrimshitrightthere" Teddy rambled, his words blurring together as he dragged the man towards the redhead arrival. He needed to get greetings out as soon as possible, the photo was what mattered here. Maybe he'd strike up an actual conversation with them later, but as of right now they'd committed the crime of dodging his group photo. They garnered no sympathy from him.

"You!" Teddy snapped, cheerfully mind you, towards the ginger. "What's your name champ? You look like a Mordecai to me. Yeah, you're Mordecai now" Teddy said to himself, nodding along to his words before grabbing the younger man's arm and pulling them towards himself and Leon.

"When I say cheese, I better get some cheese, alright kiddos? Great! You two are good kids, really. Leon, bend down" Teddy said offhandedly, fumbling to get out his camera as he gave orders. He was pleased to see the taller man follow his instructions instantly.

"Cheese!" Teddy ordered, smiling from ear to ear with his arms slung across the others' shoulders as he aimed the camera to capture all three of them. With a blinding flash that Teddy stared directly into, unblinking, the photo was captured.

Holding the photo up to his eyes, Teddy hummed in satisfaction. Giving both men a pat on the back and a quick "Thanks!", he broke off from the two and once again joined back up to the main group.

 

[evermoon]

Ollie almost sighed aloud, relieved that somebody had shown up after him. He hated being the last person to arrive, late or not. It always felt uncomfortable, to walk up to a group knowing that they were ready to head out and you had been the only thing stopping them.

The moment of relief didn't last long, because as soon as the second man had shown up, Ollie found himself being dragged around by a shorter man with blond hair. He didn't protest or fight back, mostly due to the surprise of the moment. Instead, he allowed himself to be shepherded over to Leon as the man who'd grabbed him started chattering about how he was dubbing Ollie 'Mordecai' from now on.

He barely had the sense to blurt out that his name was Oliver as he was dragged over to the pair, so taken aback was he by the man's quick and energetic behavior. In fact, he almost missed the fact that he was being strong-armed into a photo, but he recovered as the camera was raised. Just a second before the picture was taken, he smiled and raised his hand in a small wave, reminiscent of the one he gave when he arrived. The flash going off startled him, even though he probably should have expected to, and he was sure that he must have either blinked or cringed from the light. Glad that expression is caught forever.

Just as quick as he came, the man who had dragged him into the photo seemed to run off, bounding back to the group he'd been standing with. Ollie watched him go for a moment, and after a brief hesitation, followed him at a slower pace. He didn't recognize most of the group, and save for Sybille, he wasn't that familiar with anybody. Despite the lingering apprehension, he forced his shoulders down and stood straighter, a grin pulling his lips up.

"Well," he said. "That was an... introduction."