Realistic or Modern T-Minus Never

[queendilettante]

Sybille let out a deep breath and backed up from the injured Teddy. She lowered her shotgun into a resting position and scanned the group. Two injured and we're not even inside yet. Great, great, great. Off to a phenomenal start, Syb. Lars and Teddy may be injured - and idiots - but they were alive and at least Lars seemed to be able to stand. "Good work, Charlie," she mumbled under her breath.

The three DHQS seemed fine, and, despite Ash looking like she was about to be possessed by a demon, the rest of her crew looked well enough, all things considered. "Great work, everyone," she called out, centering herself between her people and the DHQS. "That was a close call - one that we can thank Charlie especially for getting Teddy through - but we're all alive." She swung her shotgun over her shoulder and then anxiously began tugging on her earlobe, ignoring Santa's whines from behind her. "Everyone, hold tight. I'm going to run up ahead to see if any others are on their way. Uhm..." she scanned the group, uncertain of who to ask to join her.

The DHQS were out. It's not that she had anything against them aside from their general demeanor, but she had no even presumed authority over even Florida. As it stood, Ryan had an unfortunate habit of thinking himself her superior, and it was a delicate operation not being too overt about her resentment to that notion. Her eyes were drawn to the injured men to her left. Lars and Teddy were, for obvious reasons, also out of the running and she couldn't risk letting their clearly invaluable doctor be in any explicit harm. Ash also seemed half dead from fright and Ollie-
Well, Sybille would at least like someone she trusted to watch her shop if she died.

"Leon," she continued, regretting that he was the best choice, "come help, if you would." Sybille knew he had kids, and she hated the idea of orphaning them, but she hated the idea of the Founders taking over Rayney Day Mechanics just a bit more.

gouache

 

[Viper Actual]

After the Mall doctor had done his thing Fred re-oriented himself to watch the surroundings. While completely understandable the entire group was now on edge- and rightfully so. Without even touching the volume control on his ComTacs Fred could hear the slow shuffles and faint moans of zekes approaching from all manner of directions. While they might not have numerical superiority Fred was anything but enthusiastic to find out while standing in an exposed location such as this.

Gripping his rifle tightly he scanned the surroundings as the Mall-folks chattered among themselves. Among them were the two scouts- Apocalypse Now and Tim Horton's- exchanging words of encouragement. Fred didn't have the heart to look at them (nor did he have the guts to tell them) but he knew that the odds were not in favor for the severely injured one. In the event that the mission goes sideways- moreso than it already had- his only real use would be that of acting as a live bait to buy the others time to retreat and scatter into the forest.

It was a grim thought but a glance at Agent McCarthy told Fred that he wasn't the only one thinking about it.

"Just lemme play overwatch for a bit? Sit up on a roof or something, watch over you guys, tell you what I can see over the radio, that sort of thing. Could test out my leg, too, see if I can just walk this whole thing off."

After the two scouts exchanged fist-bumps Fred looked directly at them. His neutral expression was partially obscured by all the head- and face-gear he was currently wearing. "You," he said, nodding towards Teddy. "Until we find a secure location to hunker down you're on Dronkey-duty. It's about as fast as you with a limp and you can use it for support as you go. If things get dicey it'll be able to drag your ass too."

Fred offered McCarthy no glance or look as he said this, though he did glance briefly at the other scout and the Mall group's teamleader- Sybille- as he spoke. Hopefully his superior would see the advantage of the altered team setup whereas Lars and Sybille would appreciate the gesture.

As Sybille prepared herself and the big guy- Leon- to scout ahead Fred pointed and nodded towards Lars. "We're taking point. Sound and light discipline- there's no way to give the zekes more reasons to come. If the scouts end up in trouble I'll reinforce and you'll watch my six."

He raised an eyebrow. "Understood?"

 

[Togy]

Teddy, apparently, did not understand. He was too busy trying to race the dronkey to the gate. He seemed to be winning.

 

[gouache]

queendilettante


The speed at which this chaos ahead of him was taking place was beyond him. He had never seen people rush so carelessly into oncoming danger. To be fair, a few seemed like they didn’t see it coming. His shock kept him in place, unsure of what exactly to do without being told. Leon was expecting to be ordered around upon joining the group instead of making his own decisions- being new and all. He feared making a rash choice of his own free will could possibly make things worse. Now, seeing as everyone was else quickly speaking to each other in codes he didn’t exactly understand.. It left him at a loss.

Ninety percent of the things they were saying made absolutely no sense. It didn’t help that he had not been around adults in a very long time. So communicating with them in mayhem was pointless. He felt frustrated, and useless. His ears began to ring violently with explosions going off from multiple directions, confusing him even more than he already was. Leon imagined this is what war felt like, the way his grandfather would describe it when he served in the army. His grandfather repeatedly told him how it felt like everything was moving in slow motion but also way too fast. How unbelievably violent it was watching in horror as his comrades would be thrown across the ground- sometimes in pieces.

It was all too much to take in with how unprepared Leon swiftly realized he was and began to regret ever agreeing to join them. In his state of shock, the sound of a grown man screaming broke his silence. His eyes scanned his surroundings in search of where the shouting was coming from, only to find it being stifled by the others crowding around him. How odd, he thought, the difference between a child and an adult's tone of wailing in distress. Leon took a few hesitant steps forward, trying to make some kind of decision on where he would go from here- how he could make himself useful.

As he began walking ahead, he was stopped in his tracks by the sound of his name. It was Sybille calling for him, he hadn’t paid attention to her sense they began the mission. Finally, something being said made sense to him. Being told to ‘help’ was all he needed to confidently agree upon. “Of course.” Leon stated firmly before placing his weapon to his side to free his arms up.

"Cover me as I move up, Leon," Sybille began, choosing to say the tall man's name to make sure she had his attention. "Weapon up, okay?" Sybille shot the man a smile only slightly stronger than the one she managed for Ollie and began walking forward. The black blood leaking from the recently killed Vector was soaking into spreading and soaking into the ground; Sybille took care to avoid stepping in any. Fucking disgusting, she thought to herself. She needed to quit the SecDep at this rate- mechanic work was at least marginally less deadly. Barely two feet through the gate and Sybille immediately stopped as she heard a growling from behind her. She knelt on the ground, raised her shotgun, and scanned the field for the infected that Santa must have caught before her. There. Thankfully, there were no more infected near the open fence, but she spotted a pair of Casualties about 50 feet ahead of her in the 11 o'clock direction. Sybille carefully steadied her aim. "Leon, I got the one on the left. When I say fire, get the one on the right."

Leon wordlessly nodded his head, before lifting his gun back into his arms. He wrapped his large hand around the grip, and a finger against the trigger. The metal was cold- he hadn’t touched it long enough to keep it warm yet. He really hated guns, and went out of his way to avoid handling one. This would take some getting used too. Thankfully his aim was just as sharp as his archery skills, so that wasn’t an issue for him.

Sybille glanced up at the tall man above her. I hope he's got this. She gulped, checked Santa was okay behind her, and then looked down her sights. "Fire!"

Upon Sybille ordering him to take out the feeble mess of what used to be a human, he turned his back to her to protect her from the possibility of a stray shell striking her. Leon’s brows furrowed as he squinted his eyes in concentration to perfect his aim. Once he felt confident enough, he fired his rifle in between the eyes of the vector. The blow back of the weapon was startling to him, even if it wasn’t that profound. It was still a new feeling to him. Surprisingly, the vector didn’t fall into the dirt completely- it had only stumbled. Of course this would be a dragged out process for him.. killing what was once a human, someone's baby.

Leon held his breath and took another shot to the knee of the vector, which finally caused it to collpase. It gave him enough time to fire two more times into its skull. The vector laid still, but he didn’t take his eyes off of it until he was positive it wouldn’t move again. Thankfully, it didn’t. Leon lowered his gun with a sigh and gazed around the general area. He didn’t see a threat nearby as well. While his head was turned, he looked down to see Sybille's dog heeled beside her. He wasn’t much of a dog person, but he found the animal cute in its loyalty to its owner. His eldest daughter would’ve enjoyed meeting the dog. Maddy on the other hand would be terrified, she was not a fan of animals in general.

Sybille took down her casualty with one shot to the throat, which happened to destroy its head in the process. She quickly scanned the environment for any stragglers, but they were all good. "We're clear!" she called back to the group. "Move up with me, I think we should head to the main building." She pointed in front of her and once again gulped, hard.

Leon, not being one for words, nodded his head in agreement to Sybille’s request to follow her forward. “Stay behind me.” He affirmed bluntly. “I will look.” Leon, without hesitation, stepped ahead of her, silently making his way forward with his gun held against his chest. He scanned the grounds for the building she spoke of, he saw nothing at first, but now looking closer did he see it clearly. Leon pointed to it with the barrel of his rifle. “Is that the building?” He asked, just to be sure.

"Yup," Sybille replied, waving to the rest of the approaching group. "Any volunteers to go in first?"

“I will.” Leon firmly said, wanting to finally feel useful after all this time of standing by, even if he was putting himself willingly into danger.

 

[Vudukudu]

Ryan hasn't been working with Fred long enough to really know the man, but he does know the dread that usually comes with working with a bunch of civilians who's primary specialties are "staying alive" rather than "precise application of incredible violence." It was extremely difficult to trust any of them not to get flighty or do something reckless, and he gives Fred's upper arm a light punch as he brushes by him.

"Do everything within reason to stop him from becoming a problem. Putting Florida on your left to assist. And.. if he becomes a problem, exercise good judgment." He says plainly. Live bait has never been his style, mostly because it means you might end up with a Vector roaming the area for the next week. One in the head solved that. "Winters, you're on escort with the lieutenant. Make sure our wounded are attended until we've reached our destination. I'm going to go make sure our new friends don't do anything too unprofessional."

Winters nods and checks her magazine before stepping up and taking position by Fred, set a few steps back and angled off to the left to keep his flank covered so he can focus on what's in front of him. Ryan trots forward to catch up to Sybille and Leon, giving quick verbal cues as he passes by the others to make sure he doesn't catch anyone by surprise, and once he's caught up turns around to keep an eye on the rest of the airfield while they discuss breaching the building.

The airfield itself consists of a central control terminal with an attached air traffic control tower and a few hangars of varying sizes. He'd picked this one based on satellite imagery for its distance from the densest part of the compound, the center. The settlement that had thrived here for awhile had used the airstrip for growing crops, but after they'd run out of space in the hangars to cram people and things they'd constructed a crude shanty town in a large ring around the air strip. It had provided them shelter and comfort, but it was going to be a goddamn disaster to clear. Close quarters, lots of corners, probably plenty of corpses and debris littering the ground. Every group of soldiers he'd worked with had a different name for that sort of operational nightmare, but he tended to stick to the simplest: unfriendly ground. This building was going to be their way to deal with it - get inside, fortify rapidly, and then make more noise than they already had to draw out anything still roaming the maze of crude hovels onto open ground where they had the advantage of distance and clear lines of fire. Of course, that would only work if this building wasn't some godforsaken charnel chamber.

"Lets get moving people. Eyes on, sixty meters." He calls out. He stops barking orders for just long enough to squeeze the trigger twice, hurling a quick burst down range that proves ineffective before he checks his breathing and squeezes off a third round that drops his target. "Breach, check your corners. Leon, Sybille, Ollie, you're up. Keep moving and shooting until we're the only things moving, and then Mall is on construction detail shoring up any holes while we cover. Walked too far for this shit to turn back now, lets make it happen." He instructs, then raises his rifle to take another shot at the slowly emerging trickle of dead attracted by the earlier fusillade before slapping Leon's shoulder to cue him to make his entrance.

When Leon does finally go in, things go sideways immediately. The room is poorly lit thanks to the boarded up windows, and without power the lights aren't working anyway. The hangar they were going to set up shop in must have been the initial site of the outbreak that brought the Airport Settlement crashing down, and anyone familiar with quarantining Latents in settlements, all the signs are there. The building is largely secure, with most of the entrances and exits welded shut, and the living situation is a crude and rickety warren of makeshift bunk beds meant to keep all the Latents in one place where they posed less of a risk to the other survivors, which usually also meant they didn't live terribly well even by apocalyptic standards. The other reason for guessing this is ground zero is the sheer number of chewed up corpses rotting away across the floor, the smell so offensive it'd make most anyone with a queasy stomach vomit.

Almost immediately after Leon opens the door, a Casualty of almost the same considerable bulk as him, wearing the remains of a tattered red shirt and blood-stained jeans, crashes into him and brings the two of them tumbling to the floor, teeth gnashing and hands grasping for purchase as black ichor leaks from the zombie's wounds. Deeper in the hangar, more of the undead stir, but thankfully there are none of the telltale howls of Vectors inside the structure, though there are still a dozen or more shamblers to deal with in the dark maze of crude dormitories.

 

[gouache]

Leon could feel the breath be violently knocked out of him as he hit the ground with a loud thud. The back of his head striking the ground before he even had time to react. Leon grunted, swiveling his arms from underneath him to elbow the casualty in the jaw as hard as he could. Even in his confused and concussed state, he still managed to get the upper hand. Now that he was straddling the casualty like a bull, he reached to his side in search of his gun.. But to his dismay, it wasn’t there. From the corner of his eye, he could see his rifle was a few feet away from him. He wasn’t sure how he would get over there without being run over. Leon began pummeling the casualty with his right fist into its teeth over and over again. Until his hands became black with whatever was coming out of it. His ears aggressively ringing to the point where he couldn’t even hear himself breathing. Before he could throw another blow, the thing threw him off of it’s chest. Leon tumbled once again across the gravel.

By sheer luck and perfect timing, he landed right beside his rifle. Quickly before the casualty had enough time to get to its feet, Leon aimed his gun at the head of it and fired two shots into its head. Thankfully- much different than the first time he shot one, it immediately crashed to the ground. He could feel a static running through his head, like the floor was spinning beneath him. As a child he sustained a concussion, so he was aware of the symptoms. But he didn't recall it being this severe seconds following the initial blow. Leon could feel water dripping from his neck. He presumed it was sweat, and wiped it away. Looking at his hand now, he could see it was covered in blood. A lot of blood. Leon cursed underneath his breath and tried to sit up from where he was laying, but once he was up- he immediately vomited to the side of him. He felt faint as he forcibly coughed, feeling similar to running a marathon. That faint exhausted feeling you get after all that energy is burnt off, but much worse.

Leon wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, while also trying to rub the unwavering double vision from his eyes. He squeezed his eyes shut in hopes of regaining some kind of steadiness, but it didn’t do much except help the ringing in his ears become less violent. Enough so he could hear what was at least going on around him- even if it was slightly muffled. With great strength, he managed to get to his knees and very slowly stood up. Leon realized he was rusty in brawling, unlike the way he used to. To be fair, If that casualty hadn't run onto him so unexpectedly, he definitely wouldn’t have been in this situation.

Now on his feet could he feel the blood pooling down from the back of his head to his neck, and into the fabric of his shirt. Leon adjusted his rifle back into the crook of his arm to hold it steady, even while he was still seeing double. He silently shuffled around the thing he had just taken out to be sure it was dead. Staring intensely at it to try and focus his vision, did he finally see it definitely wasn’t moving- his world sure was. He tried to make sense of his surroundings to find the direction in which the others were headed, but could barely see what was ahead of him. So he pressed on anyway so as to not be left behind.

 

[queendilettante]

"Fuck!" Sybille shouted as Leon was tackled to the ground. She aimed her shotgun at the Casualty that was a mere 3 feet from her, but she couldn't risk the shrapnel taking Leon out with it. She glanced down the hall and saw that, while there were a few more Casualties on the way, none were close enough to be of immediate concern. Shit, what should I do? If Leon gets bit, who the hell will take care of his kids? I can't, I can barely take care of Santa as is, and-

The sound of point blank gunfire left Sybille's ears ringing, but cut off her quickly spiraling anxiety. She looked down and saw a bleeding Leon had just killed the Casualty that was on top of him the last he had checked. He seemed kind of dazed, but he-

Bleeding?

"He's bleeding, we need to get out. Ryan, Ollie, drag him out and hold him down." Sybille looked down the hall again to see the Casualties slowly but steadily approaching their position. "Fuck, um," she continued, "Fuck, get him out!" She shoved the three men with her gun out of the front entrance they had only just come in through before turning and slamming the door shut behind it. As she leaned against it to keep any infected inside, she aimed her gun at Leon. "Charlie, would you mind checking him for bites before this door gives out?"

 

[Solar Daddy]

Lars looked over to Fred, the NUSA soldier who seemed to reflect his own strange social oddities. He offered to - no, he decided - that Lars and Fred would take point. Not that Lars minded, but the tone made it seem like Fred thought he was more in charge than he was. Lars would need to keep an eye on him and the other DHQS guy; Ryan, they both seemed crafty and insidious. Fred seemed the more genuine of the two, but Ryan was the clear charisma of the bunch. Lars hoped they could shed their distrusting aura, but he didn't think that was possible. They were outsiders; doing for sport what Lars and the others had been living for years. To them, this was a reclamation to be done. To Lars, this was survival. He couldn't imagine them doing much but try and become kings of the castle, bringing the US back to where it once owned. West of the Mississippi was no place for DHQS in Lars' eyes. However, as unfortunate as it was, their creeping progress was inevitable; Cleveland was a prime example of it. The reclamation was here and Lars could do nothing but accept it. For now, until proven their loyalty didn't include Lars' well being, he'd consider them tentative allies. He simply gave Fred a curt nod, fixing his position in the group where the soldier commissioned him to be.

The walk to the compound was less eventful than the Vector attack. Casualties spanned the horizon in various spots, with a few members of the team taking shots at some of them. He thought it was a waste of ammunition, especially considering some of the Casualties definitely could've been dealt with close-up, but it wasn't Lars' ammo that was getting burned. When the others began running out of bullets to save themselves, Lars wouldn't spare his. His life didn't need to be risked because the others couldn't keep their fingers off the trigger. At the rate it was going, Lars figured the others would all run out by sundown. Crazy bastards all didn't know the word "conservation" to save their lives. He was sitting on a stockpile of rifle and pistol bullets, almost completely untapped since their original outing. Lars prided himself on keeping minimal use of his firearms until absolutely necessary.

The team arrived at the decided location and Lars posted himself at the entrance, while Sybille and Leon entered. Lars kept watch over where the team entered from, ensuring no Casualties or Vectors could sneak up on them. He didn't trust many of the others to keep a vigilant watch besides Teddy, Fred and Ryan. He had no idea what kind of training the other Mall members had and therefore assumed they collectively had none. Better safe than sorry. Nearly immediately from the original insertion, Lars heard the commotion from inside the hangar. What the hell? They couldn't go thirty seconds without encountering a crisis? Lars almost took a peek inside past the others to see just what the hell was going on, but once again, Lars knew the others would be quick to watch the spectacle. So, Lars remained unflinched, scanning the horizon and making sure nothing got too close without taking a knife to the brain.

 

[Hard Boiled]

gouache
queendilettante
evermoon
Vudukudu

The ringing in Leon’s ears began again, but this time even louder than it was before. He could feel his heart pounding against his head… or stomach? His leg.. maybe ears? The feeling and sound was so encompassing that he couldn’t tell where it was coming from. It was as if the ground beneath him had its own heartbeat.

Leon gasped for air feeling a knot crawl its way violently into his throat. It felt like he was going to vomit again. Everything felt out completely of his control- even the smallest movements being hindered by some sort of dizziness. The one singular feeling he had was the blood pooling through his shirt and onto his chest.

Before Charlie could try to stop Teddy from stupidly walking on his splinted leg, more gunfire had erupted beside him.
"God, fuckin'..." He swore to himself with a shake of the head, spitting out the gauze in his mouth, as it wasn't helping much anyway.

He threw on a pair of bright orange gloves, a tool he saved for high-risk scenarios like this. They were reusable if properly sterilized afterwards, but he could only use them once per outing, since they'd be soiled. By the time Sybille was calling for him, he'd already made his way to the door.

His poor kids...
...was Charlie's first thought upon seeing Leon's condition. The mere sight of infectious black ooze mixing with his blood was almost definitely a death sentence, unless by some miracle none of the sepsis had gotten into his wounds. Hopefully most of the blood belonged to the deceased zombie, or Leon would be joining it.

"What happened?"

Sybille kept her eyes locked on Leon and held her shotgun perfectly still and aimed point blank at the man's head. "He got tackled by a Casualty as soon as he opened the door. He's bleeding from his head and has blight all over his fingers."

"Lovely... Thank you," he thanked Sybille without the slightest look in her direction, visually assessing Leon for a few seconds. He could immediately tell something was off, and knowing Leon, he probably wouldn't be cooperative. He took a syrette of Plazma, or Mall-grown opium, from his bag and cautiously passed by Agent McCarthy.
"If he gets testy, stick him in the leg or shoulder." Charlie muttered, slipping the syrette into the agent's palm.

Ryan keeps his eyes on the center of the airfield until Charlie offers him the syrette. Its enough to make him open the jaw-guard of his helmet, just so Charlie can see him frowning while he stows his rifle and draws his handgun. With pistol in his right hand, he aims it just to the side of Leon's head while taking the syrette in his left.

"Be quick." He says pointedly, then clicks the safety on his handgun off just in case.

"Be ready to catch him."
Charlie returned his attention to the patient.

Suddenly, the muffled sound of a voice froze him in place. He turned his head in the direction in which he thought it was coming from. The next thing he knew, he had fallen onto his bottom. Leon not even realizing he wasn’t standing anymore.

"Hey, how you doing, Leon?!" Charlie asked loudly. "Do you know where you are?!"

Once again he could hear a muffled voice, but this time much closer. Leon lifted his head up from staring intently at the ground. He could barely see what was in front of him. Through all the commotion and aggressive ringing in his ears, he managed to hear his name being called. Leon squinted at the figure approaching him long enough to see it was familiar, but wasn’t sure exactly who it was. Just as he was about to make out who was there, he shut his eyes to desperately regain some form of stability.

“What..?” Leon groaned with a pitiful and quavering voice.

Just as soon as Leon shut his eyes, Charlie turned on a flashlight and opened them one at a time with his thumb, checking his pupils. They were equal and reactive to light, so at least there was that.
"Can you tell me your full name, pal?" He put the light away, peeking over the top of Leon's head. Head injuries always bleed a lot, but generally they look worse than they are. What was important was Leon's critical functions and level of consciousness. Twenty seconds.

The sudden pressure of his eyes being peeled open was enough to throw him into a full panic. He was clearly in danger and unable to protect himself at his full potential. In the midst of his delirium, he could see the shadow of his two daughters' faces. For the first time in a long time, he genuinely felt scared for his life.

“Don’t touch me..!” Leon cried out, and shielded his face with the crook of his arm. He quickly backed himself into the corner of the wall like a feral animal desperately trying to escape capture.

Naturally.
"Leon, it's your buddy Charlie, remember me? I delivered your kid?" He reminded with a half-chuckle, holding up a gloved hand so neither Ryan or Sybille shot Leon. Given that Leon didn't answer either of his questions, he was going to treat him as incoherent.
"You gotta let me check you for bites, or I'm gonna have to raise them too, yeah?" Thirty seconds.

“Get away!” Leon exclaimed in response to the muffled voice directly in front of him. It sounded like a broken radio.. Just a mix of different sounds breaking in between each other. He found it impossible to make out who or what was being said to him. He could feel his chest cramp up in sharp consistent pains and that forceful feeling to gag. Maybe he was drowning, he could’ve sworn he was being forced underwater. Leon tried to frantically recall where he was and how he got there, but he couldn’t come up with anything.

“Please stay back..” His voice trembled like a child as he protected himself from being touched with both his arms over his head.

Charlie sighed.
"Alright, I'm not gonna touch you," he glanced to the agent and quickly nodded towards Leon, closing in on him from the opposite direction. He was willing to take a punch or two so that the agent could get the stick in.
"You're bleeding, I just wanna take a look, okay?" He held his hands up to Leon. Hopefully he'd be enough of a distraction while McCarthy circled around. The clock was ticking, if he was bitten, they'd have to hurry the hell up. Forty seconds. If he'd been bitten, he would've likely shown signs by now, but you can never be too careful.

Finally, he recognized that murmured voice- it was Charlie. Leon lifted his shifting and spotty gaze up from behind his arms to face the blurry figure in front of him. He wasn’t sure who it was, but the voice coming from it was definitely Charlie. Just as Leon was about to acknowledge who Charlie was, he suddenly felt something sharp pinch his skin.

Ryan’s internal clock is ticking a lot more aggressively than Charlie’s, and he finally lurches forward to jab Leon with the syrette and deliver the dose before leaning into him to ease him down to the ground.

“I’m not fuckin’ carrying him.” He grunts, then steps aside to get himself oriented towards Sybille and the door, gun held upward but ready to aim past her if she steps away from the doorway.

Cases like this were always bad. Sure, you could guess if someone was infected if they started acting oddly or started sweating or showed a fever, but all of those were also just fairly regular panic responses to the idea that one might be infected. The only way to be really sure was a blood test kit, and those were in incredibly short supply on this side of the Mississippi. If Leon was in the process of turning, sedating him wouldn’t do much to slow the process and Ryan wasn’t going to be the one carrying over 200 pounds of freshly turned Vector if that happened.

"Thanks." He nodded sincerely to the agent, kneeling beside the artificially calmed beast. Time to work.

The only thing he could make out from that point on was the sky. Still, Leon fiercely fought to keep his eyes open. An exhausted feeling casted over him, something he was used to at this point in his life with two young children. Sometimes only getting a few hours of sleep, so the fight to stay awake was not something he was unfamiliar with. He couldn’t move his body though- as if he was paralyzed. That was enough of a terrible feeling to make him tear up, which was very much unlike him to cry under stress. “Stop..” Leon whimpered hoarsely, in his despairing brawl to stay alert.

"You're gonna be fine, brother." Charlie reassured him, taking his shears and slicing Leon's shirt open. "Hold his head still," he ordered Ollie.

Ollie stared down at Leon for a moment, taken aback by how he’d been so quick to take a swing at another member of the group, before Charlie’s words dawned on him. After a moment, he gave a quick jerk of the head in response, scrambling to his knees and letting his gun drop to the ground as he reached out to hold Leon’s head still. A little piece of him was afraid that the act would anger Leon enough to turn his aim to Ollie himself. Still, after what he’d seen Charlie do to Teddy’s leg, and the screams it resulted in, Charlie seemed like one he should be more afraid of pissing off. At least the man was coherent.

With Leon's neck stabilized and no bites found on his upper half, Charlie cut each of his pants legs to the knees, rolling them up and checking his legs. Nothing there either. The only thing left were Leon's bruised and bloodied knuckles, which Charlie wiped off with the torn shirt to find no teeth marks.

"He's clean," Charlie concluded, getting down to the actual assessment by taking a quick set of vitals. His heart rate and breathing rate were elevated from the stress, but the sedative would take care of that. What he really needed was a blood pressure, but that could wait until they were at least out of the line of fire. For now, he'd throw a bandage on Leon's scalp wound and move him off to the side.

Sybille let out a sigh of relief and lowered her gun for the first time since she threw the injured man on the ground. "Nice work as always, Charlie," she mumbled, just loud enough for her friend to hear. Didn't orphan the kids after all, Syb.

Her internal celebration was cut short by a bang from behind her on the door. "Get him out of here, if you could. We still have Casualties in here."

"Aye-aye... Help me move him," he nodded to the side while looking at Ollie.

 

[Solar Daddy]

Elsewhere in the Wastes: Minneapolis
Olivia #1:

Olivia Pike gave a crass twitch of her nose when the breeze shifted into her face. She caught a whiff of the charred flesh a mile or so upwind, which soured her perfect entrance into the camp. Everything else she did was practiced, near flawless, with every movement flowing from one to the next without a single misplaced step. The way she walked was regal, slow, while the sounds of her boots echoed across the open concrete. Members of her enclave flanked either side of the bandit, weapons lowered in a casual carry. Olivia approached the crown jewel of the Minneapolis area; Burnsville High School, home of The Testudo. They were a group that radiated power and influence over, essentially, the Minnesota area. Olivia found the name a bit on-the-nose, considering the faux Roman shield wall on their flag and the ridiculous color pallet of red and yellow. She never payed attention much in history, but even she saw the clear attempt at likening their group to the Empire. Still, as much as she hated the standard they set for themselves, The Testudo had a sizeable community; not just in their military and infrastructure, but their sphere of influence was staggering. To control a base of operations so impressive nearly made Olivia jealous of them; of course, it was more out of envy than anything else. If she was to control the entire continent from the Mississippi to the Pacific, she'd need to find ways to bring these kinds of settlements under her control. Was she ever going to accomplish the goal of continent-domination? Absolutely not. But she had to set the bar somewhere, and Olivia wasn't the type to make her goals anywhere close to reachable.

"Looks like that's another time you underestimated me," Olivia said with a glance across the three prominent figures in front of her. The looks she received ranged from impressed to aggravated; right where she liked the temperature of the room to be.

Curtly, the one in the center, a stoic and brawny man sporting a wildly out of style mullet and a denim vest with an assortment of attention-begging patches spoke up. "You're good at playing yourself up. It's not our style to assume you can live up to your word. Think we got this strong by trusting outsiders?" His voice was gruff, like a smoker of three decades. "Especially a Seattleite all the way out here. I don't trust anyone on that side of the Ashfields."

Olivia couldn't suppress the grin she developed or the swooning sigh that escaped her lips. "Patrick, you have such a way with words." Her tone clearly dripped with sarcasm, but she moved on before anyone could bring it up. "That's another nest cleared. What's that, four, five my men torched? I gotta say, if you need our cleaning services annually, we have a very low fee for loyal customers-"

"I get it, I get it," Patrick rolled his hand in a circular motion. "You're good at dealing with Zekes, I'll give you that. Doesn't make us best friends, though."

"And what's it going to take to do that?" Olivia crossed her arms with a slight squint of here eyes. "Stormpoint's cleared out half of what's left of Burnsville in a few months. You know what I can provide, and it's already given you a safe zone twice as large as what you had before. Not to mention, this is a skeleton crew. If I had all my people from Seattle here, we'd have control over all the Great Lake's region in a day." She gave a pause, just to let that ridiculous statement settle. "I'd say you owe us for all the favors." Olivia's eyes flickered from one leader to another, none willing to keep eye contact for longer than a moment. Olivia felt a surge of her ego. They're so close to giving in, she thought. One more big push and they'll crumble before me.

Patrick gave a relenting sigh as he propped his arms on his polished belt. "We'll come back to this later, Pike. For now, let's celebrate the cooperation, one leader of civilization to another." He motioned behind him towards the entrance of the high school. "Just finished preparing dinner. I know even the mighty Olivia Pike can't turn down our crops. Best stuff this side of the Mississippi." Olivia gave a tilt of her head with a wry smile. He was deflecting her push towards vassalization. Olivia's already cheeky grin only widened as she pictured his inevitable inauguration ceremony for her. Queen Pike had a nice ring to it, she thought.

"Dinner sounds lovely, thank you for the invitation."

With the minor transgression dealt with for the time being, Olivia didn't see a point in keeping her soldiers around and dismissed them. They returned to the football field just to the East, where they were expected to be treated with respect and given accommodations for their temporary stay at the Burnsville Highschool. Olivia would've sieged the place at even the slightest rumor of her people being mistreated, and The Testudos knew that; everyone who was anyone was given strict instructions to consider them as guests. Would Stormpoint survive attacking them? Probably not, but neither group could handle dealing with the aftermath of such a conflict, so The Testudos gave in to treating them like royalty for the time being. Meanwhile, Olivia and a select two guards entered the main high school through the front entrance; she found the crooked and torn flag draped over the front façade of the building to be a bit drab, but it got the point across to outsiders; for miles and miles on, The Testudos were in charge. At least, until Olivia was able to bring in her own new management. Patrick would be the first to go; the last thing Olivia needed was a man who appeared in charge, but retracted from the slightest bit of pressure.

"The charm of this place just never stops," Olivia said as she took in the generic hype written on the walls and the depictions of bas-reliefs drawn onto open surfaces. It was almost criminal how nerdy this was, but Olivia could make all the changes she wanted when she was in charge. She'd deal with it for now.

"It's quite the place, I know," Patrick spoke almost in awe of the depictions he no doubt saw daily. Had he not caught on to the blatant sarcasm? Olivia gave an unadulterated eyeroll, figuring he wouldn't pick up on that either. They passed classroom after classroom on their way to the cafeteria, and Olivia couldn't help but take sly peeks through the glass to see what was going on inside. Most seemed to be dedicated barracks, with rows of beds and small, cordoned off sections for each person. Olivia would collapse if she had to share such a space, only separated by thin cloth. However, there were also storerooms, general living spaces, and even an armory; she made sure to keep a mental note of its location in case it could be useful later.

"I love the design, maybe I can have some of my architects take some lessons from your operation. Could liven up our place back in Seattle." She spoke blatant flattery at Patrick, who seemed to embrace it without a second thought. She immediately pressed while his guard was down. "When you work under me, I'll make sure the effort you've put into this place stays. Hell, might even be able to make you Minister of Interior Design." It was a jest on the surface, but the subliminal push towards The Testudos being vassalized was ever present. Patrick seemed to have caught it as well, and his tough-guy façade quickly peeled away to show the man behind the mullet.

"Yeah, yeah," He said with a nod. He lost all his backbone when the other two leaders weren't around, which Olivia would use to her advantage in the future. "Uh, well, that's talk for another time. This isn't a time to discuss such... large future projects. Have you heard the terrorists crossing onto this side of the Mississippi? I heard they fucked up real bad on an attack, trying to put a hurting on NUSA's supply lines. Crazy things are going on over here, not sure you Seattleites hear about our problems." Another deflect from Patrick, ever predictable and ever useless as a leader. Though, this time, his diversion actually caught Olivia's attention a bit. She'd have to ask more about that during dinner, but it seemed for now Patrick had planned some kind of grand entrance for her into the cafeteria; the guards inside were lined in a formal salute near the doorway, with a cleared path leading all the way up to a sectioned off table, reserved for the higher ups.

This time, it seemed, Olivia was being buttered up; but she didn't quite care. This was the kind of treatment she could get used to. Complete strangers, bending over backwards to accommodate her.

 

[Viper Actual]

As the team crept up onto the edge of the runway Fred felt his adrenaline pumping. Not in the way you feel in the middle of a firefight but rather the way you felt knowing that the firefight was right around the corner.
Like Lars he observed some of the others- mostly McCarthy- spend precious ammo on taking pot-shots at distant targets. While his superior, Fred silently questioned the reasonig behind those shots.

Personally the Swede would prefer silently taking the casualties out up-close. Give him one or two good men and he would have easily secured an initial perimeter around the hangar. But, then again, Fred wasn't in charge. Ryan was.
Shrugging slightly, Fred took a knee on the opposite end of the doors from Lars. He noted that the mysterious other man was far too smooth to be anything but a civilian embracing the rules of the new world.
He might not have been an operator like Fred- but he had been something.

As he scanned the perimeter around them Fred silently hopee that the mission would continue without further problems. Unfortunately for him the sudden burst of commotion inside hinted to something else.
Fred had never really believed in luck or fate- that meant there were factors permanently outside of his own control- but if there was a Lady Luck out there then she sure as hell didn't give two shits about this group and their mission.
With expert maneuvering made possible through years of training and experience, Fred sealed the hangar doors shut behind the entry team as they retreated outside.

He glanced at the wounded and then at Lars- offering him only a blank stare before refocusing on the door. There was some pounding but nothing beyond that. Still, he kept his supporting hand gripped around the doorhandle while issuing quick commands from his wristpad to order the dronkey backwards where it rotated into giving the good doctor and the others cover in the direction of the runway, while also dragging Teddy with it.

With Fred covering the door, Florida and Tim Horton's the runway there was nobody to watch Fred's previous sector. He pointed at Ashlynn and then gestured towards the spot where he had been sitting mere moments ago;
"You! Gilmore Girls! Watch that flank. If something comes up you take it out or we switch places."

He raised an eyebrow. "Got it?"

Solar Daddy
Aeris
Togy

 

[gouache]

“Did your Dada make this for you?” Thea, one of the sitters, carefully broke apart a piece of matzah to avoid creating more crumbs. It was a very flaky piece of flatbread made from flour and water. The girl's mother, Ellie, made matzah often- it was Camille’s favorite treat. “Yes!” Camille chirped as she broke the matzah with her mouth. Of course, leaving a handful of crumbs to fall into her lap. Ariel, the other sitter, was watching over the youngest, Maddy, who eating in her floor booster seat. The sound of the baby crunching the matzah with the few teeth she had. Really putting her front teeth to good use with her molars still growing in. The baby was still sniffling and whimpering, but ate her snack regardless. Her plump cheeks flushed and round eyes swollen from the tears. This was the first time she had stopped crying for Leon in hours.

“The silence is somehow so loud.” Ariel sighed heavily in relief. Even if this wouldn’t last, it was still eagerly welcomed. “Good?” Thea asked, and broke off another piece for Camille and held it out to her. Camille aggressively shoved right into her mouth. Meanwhile, Maddy was taking her time. Once Maddy finished her matzah, Ariel set down a few cut up bananas onto her trey. Without hesitation- she took a handful of banana and put her entire fist in her mouth. “Okay, careful..” Ariel anxiously laughed, and pulled at her hand to keep her from choking.. It was no wonder she was so plump and healthy.

“Camille?” Thea said, before brushing Camille’s hair behind her ear. “What?” She chirped, looking up at her with eyes the same as her mother. “Did you ever make matzah with your Ima?” Although she was hesitant to mention Ellie to her already grieving daughter, she wondered if Leon would bring her up. The day before they saw Ellie last. She was very much alive and looked to be full of life. Ellie was her usual self, bright and warm like the sun. She was excited for Maddy to be two months old tomorrow. The next morning, Ellie never woke up again. They watched the girls the next day while Leon buried Ellie alone out in the cold.

Camille looked shocked by her question- as if she had just unearthed a prehistoric relic before her. It was immediately clear to Thea that Leon did indeed not speak about Ellie in front of them. She didn’t blame him, or cast judgment on him for that. But.. she believed he should. Ellie shouldn’t remain the elephant in the room, she is far too encompassing to ignore. The toddler remained silent for a moment. Her eyes darting around her, as if she was searching for an answer, or a memory. Something tangible. “Yes..!” Camille squeaked, before breaking apart her matzah into halves- and gave one of them to Thea. “Like this!” She giggled ruefully, suggesting this was how Ellie shared matzah together. It was easy to see the transparent heartache in her face, even for someone so young.

“Oh, I see.. Thank you!” Thea smiled warmly, and took a small bite of dry flat bread. Ariel silently listened in on their conversation as she observed Maddy eat. She felt unsure of Thea mentioning their mother.. and how Camille would react. Surprisingly, the toddler took it well. Almost as if Camille was just patiently waiting for the moment someone would remember her- to prove Ellie existed once and not just to her. “You know, I knew you when you were just a baby!” Thea smirked. She could easily recall the way Ellie looked holding a little Camille on her hip. “Your Ima would always walk you around on her hip..” Thea poked Camille’s stomach, “Like a little monkey!” She laughed, and tickled the toddler’s sides. Camille broke into a shrill fit of giggles. “Your Ima would say all the time, ‘That’s my monkey girl! I love my monkey!’” Thea exclaimed as Camille hysterically rolled on the floor to get away from her light prodding.

Ariel couldn’t help but laugh along with them, but the unrelenting ache pushed through- the finality of her death. She turned her attention to Ellie’s youngest, still quietly chewing on her banana. Maddy looked exactly like her father, Ellie would adamtaly say. Although she was born as a mirror image of Leon, it was truly baffling as time went on to see how that would stick. If only she could truly know the extent of how right she was. Cruel, how time would move on in spite of the people who loved her.

“I’m a monkey?” Camille asked, breaking her laughter. Her voice beginning to shake, and Thea gathered Camille up into her arms. “Oh yes.. Very much so.” Thea muttered and rocked Camille in her arms. She tenderly petted the toddler’s head of strawberry blonde hair, the same color as her mothers. Camille shifted around in her lap to face Thea and cuddled into her warm embrace. “Your Ima loves you so so so much..” Thea whispered, only for her to hear. “Even if you don’t see her, more than anything, she loves you..” She swayed, enfolding the toddler tightly into her arms. Camille, sniffling and whimpering, burried her head deeply into the crook of Thea’s shoulder.

In the midst of all of this was the sound of Maddy crunching on her matzah again, completely oblivious to what was happening around her. The baby gave a breathy yawn and rubbed at her eyes with a banana still in her hand. The sight broke Ariel out of her own deep thoughts, and she swiftly brought the baby's hands away from her face. “Let’s get you washed up..” Ariel huffed, and stood up from her seated position on the floor. She undid the messy trey on the booster seat, and lifted up the surprisingly heavy baby. Ariel held her far from her embrace to avoid Maddy touching her clothes with such mucky hands. In a way, Ariel was thankful Maddy couldn’t understand what was being said. She was too young to remember Ellie anyways, and that in itself was its own tragedy.

 

[evermoon]

Ollie nodded to Charlie, letting his grip on Leon's head relax as he reached out to slip his hands under the man's armpits instead. Leon was tall, and had plenty of muscle, so he wouldn't be light, but it wasn't like he would be lifting the man above his head, or without help.

This went sideways fast, he thought to himself. To be honest, he still wasn't sure why Sybille had asked him to come along. Sure, outside of the Mall, he could see that they certainly needed a lot of people, but the choice to ask him to come seemed strange. Yeah, he and Sybille got along, and he was grateful she'd given him a somewhere to work and a place to live. If she wanted him along, of course he'd come. He owed her that much.

Maybe that was why she'd asked him along. Not because of any particular skillset or ability, but because she knew he would say yes. It wasn't like Ollie had an abundance of friends at the Mall. He'd always thought himself to be relatively loyal, and these days, Sybille was the only person he was close enough with to owe loyalty. If she needed another body to hold a gun and shoot zombies, he was more than willing to do it, no matter why she had asked him of all people.

As he pondered that, he straightened up from the squat he'd been in, hauling Leon's torso up with him. With the man's lower half still on the ground, he wasn't too heavy; it was more like he was holding the man up. Still, he braced himself for the change in weight that would when Charlie grabbed the man's legs.

 

[spottednewt]

Swish swish swish swish
“Hey now, you’re a locked car, get the show on, band-aid.” The last two miles of highway were spent pulling on the doors of nearly every car she passed in desperate search of something that had completely slipped her mind; one in particular having greeted her with a plaster stuck to the side of the door as though it was one last, feeble attempt at encouraging the vehicle forward, down the road.

Swish swish swish swish
“Hey yeah, that was bizarre. -Get. -Paid.” Liberty Archer bopped along down the street, chirping nonsense to herself as she continued to rummage around for something. Painful, swollen eyes darted around the wreckage as she moved along, one hand on the gun at her side. Conjured by this odd sort of rhythm she couldn’t quite escape, Archer had the same song in her head for hours. While her musical gibberish was distracting - entertaining, even - she only indulged it out of a haphazard kind of strategy in such a vulnerable state. If she could stir the dead into announcing themselves before she made it too close, she’d have plenty of time to react. If she came in contact with other survivors, her only hope was to confuse them into a brief moment of pause so that she could assess the situation. Being alone, two weeks behind schedule, and with no one to come looking for her, she figured that until something on this washed up sci-fi trope of a planet was willing to finish the job it had started, there was no rest for the wicked.

Swish swish swish swish
“And they don’t stop comin’ and they don’t stop comin’ and they don’t stop comin’ and they don’t spot humming and they d-...,” The woman’s babbling tapered off as a wave of dizziness pinned her to the side of a lifted truck. The world around her seemed to blur into a kaleidoscope of fuzzy, swimming visions as she finally identified the source of her personal metronome. The gushing of her heartbeat in her ears had kept her company for hours now, ebbing and flowing from a fever pitch of volume every time she hunched over to inspect a glove compartment or retch at the nausea. It occurred to Liberty, but only briefly, that the tempo of her new favorite song and the rate at which your heart should beat probably aren’t the same.

“Well, that sort of killed the mood,” she announced to the speed limit sign across the way as soon as the spinning of her head eased, only to flinch at the volume of her own voice. “It’s water, though, we’re looking for water.” She answered her own question more softly and with a small jerk of her head as though she was whispering to someone next to her.

It had been three full days since she had finished the last of her canteen and while she couldn’t seem to find anything safe to drink, her training also couldn’t seem to pierce the thick blanket of foggy pain that had come to envelope her brain like a snuggie from hell. If she had taken just a moment to be honest with herself, she’d acknowledge that her current state felt more like cosmic placation than anything else. After all, how could she have been the only survivor in a squadron of some of the most weathered and successful soldiers that the NUSA had to offer? –Only to leave them behind to save her own hide?

With one quick, sharp breath, Liberty Jane pushed the thought back into the recesses of her mind.

“I had no option, there was nothing left to save,” The words still tasted sour in her mouth - ears concurring with their emptiness. “Someone has to get word back to their families,” She raised her voice in argument with the faces that flashed behind her eyes, willing herself into a second wind at the thought of retaining some sense of purpose to battling the waves of nausea.

With the woman’s outburst came a low, lazy groan from farther along the road. One of the dead, eternally chained to a rusted piece of mangled car bumper by way of its own belt loop, shuffled to face her. Previously, he’d been enamored by the creaking of a battered license plate in the wind, held aloft by one last little screw with the weight of it’s whole world on it’s tiny, tired shoulders while literal death loomed over it’s little phillips head... In a sense, LJ felt like that screw.

Having become the end to the zombie’s timeless love affair with the subtle squeaking, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of symbolism in the act.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir.” She chirped her apology out of more comfortable habit than anything else before going about the awkward struggle of lifting herself onto the hood of the sedan across from him. He looked as though he’d been a small thing when he died - probably already enjoying his early bird discounts. In his feeble and drained state, she could tell that his death hadn’t come recently, either.

Once perched, she craned her neck to identify the belt loop - his point of constriction, and met it with a mournful grunt, “Don’t ya hate when that happens?” For a moment, all she did was marvel at the scene. He hardly had the mechanics to reach for her, never mind the weight or strength to pull free of the small strip of fabric. Soon enough, the decay would set farther into the cotton and time would do the job for him, but until then, he’d be trapped in a prison of his own clumsy doing. With that, she didn’t feel like singing anymore. "Are those Carhartt's? Daddy always said they'd survive anything."

“I’m not a deserter,” She spoke matter-of-factly, keeping half an eye on him as she reached for the crumpled-green wrapper of the last half of her final Nature Valley granola bar. The first bite felt ceremonious until the crunching began to rattle through her molars into her brain. Maybe it would be a granola bar that would take her out after surviving a homemade bomb and open fire in a man-made valley with nowhere to hide. The pain made her eyebrows knit together and her jaw steel, but the idea of what her tombstone might look like made her crack a smile.

Wagging the last bit at the empty eyes in front of her, Liberty couldn’t suppress a pained laugh through small nibbles, “If this thing kills me, you have my permission to finish it when you get free.”

 

[queendilettante]

Sybille watched Charlie and Ollie drag the delirious and now heavily-drugged Leon away. At least for the time being, two were unable to fight and two more had their hands full with them, leaving the group with an ever decreasing six. Sybille tugged on her earlobe and bit her lip; this was quickly becoming a disaster. At this rate, even if they were incredibly careful and systematic in their clearing of the entire airport, the odds of there being enough free, able-bodied hands to fight their way home weren't looking good. Another bang from the shut and sealed door brought Sybille back to reality.

She walked up to Ryan. "Hey, so," she began, somewhat hesitant. She knew that Ryan needed her cooperation, after all, she wouldn't have been asked to assemble a crew from the Mall if not, but they hadn't exactly established a positive working relationship. Sybille was fairly certain her longest interaction with the man was screaming at after Kat's execution. "I know this is your gig and I'm obligated to help you see this through in whatever way you deem fit," she paused, looking around at their notably smaller numbers, "but I'm not sure it's wise for us to stay out here any longer than we absolutely have to."

Waiting for the man to respond, Sybille glanced around the rest of the group. Lars was injured but forcing himself to function for the sake of the mission. She wondered how much health trouble he'd really be in once they returned to the Mall and he could receive a proper evaluation. The NUSA were, naturally, all perfectly fine. Sybille had long suspected that her groups' involvement was as sacrificial bodies to the NUSA's pyre. She bit her lip, trying not to curse at the man.

Ash was, surprisingly enough to Sybille, taking care of infected about 50 feet from the group. She seemed to have removed herself from the cluster and has been picking off distant casualties with her bow. At least one of them was able to take care of their mission without too much difficulty.

Teddy, despite his repeated near death experiences over the past hour, was loudly singing ABBA still from the roof he perched himself upon. He was better than Sybille expected.

Sybille looked back to the NUSA head. "Every additional person we lose is going to fuck us, royally. I think a tactical retreat is a better bet than mass casualties." She paused but was ultimately unable to keep herself from getting a dig in at the man. "At least, in my hick eyes. I'm not too sure about you wanna-be savior types, though."

Vudukudu

 

[Vudukudu]

Ryan turns his head towards Sybille at the sound of her voice, one eyebrow arched as she lodges her complaint.

“Winters! The Mall says we ought to consider a tactical retreat. What’d’you think about that?” He calls out. The corporal takes a step back from her position watching their perimeter, then snaps off a lazy salute.

“Ain’t nothing tactical about mission failure, sir!” She barks back, then returns her attention to the task at hand.

Sybille glared in the direction of the obnoxious Florida woman. In the apocalypse, just as before, nothing good came from that state. She rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue, which Santa mistook for being called. Cheeks flushed with mild embarrassment, she scratched him behind the ears but didn’t break eye contact with Ryan.

Turning back to Sybille, he gives a curt nod. “I understand you and yours have been out here for awhile, and that the name of the game has been playing it safe. I respect your input, but I have orders and I have no plans on leaving this airfield until its nice and locked down.” He replies, then nods in the direction of Teddy. “Now, I’m just as concerned as you are about taking additional injuries, which is why I’m gonna ask you take you and yours up there, get nice and cozy, and pad your K/D ratios while I do what I came here to do.”

Sybille coughed, not caring to cover her mouth. “While I appreciate your concern for my people,” she spat the words out with no effort to disguise her dislike of the man, “I know your game, McCarthy.”

“Jus’ Ryan’s fine.” He mutters.

Sybille turns to her group and whistles for their attention. “Mall group, eyes here!” She shot a sideways glance at Ryan before continuing. “Everybody except Ash, get up top there with Teddy,” she pointed to the man who was still singing ABBA to himself. “Charlie, Ollie, take care of the wounded, please. Ash,” she turned to the younger woman who had finished picking off another infected in the distance, “help me clear this place.”

Ryan sighs and pulls his mag out to do a quick check of how many rounds are still in it before loading it back in. “LT, keep the mule close. Corporal, you are in the envious position of sealing gates and pulling cards. Time to start winning back the west.”

The process proves easier than expected, and it leaves Ryan with a lingering sense of dread all the while. A quick loop around the exterior let them shut the handful of gates, preventing any of the dead outside from coming in to make matters worse, and with the staccato din of fire coming from the Mall team’s stronghold, a fair amount of the local’s attention was occupied elsewhere. The open exits suggested some people had tried to escape whatever disaster caused this, but none of the telltale signs of a Vector stampede or outside interference were to be found along the exterior. Moving along in a tight formation, using the exterior fencing to cover their backs while they proceeded with quarantine measures, the DHQS team eventually begins the more difficult work of clearing buildings, room by bloody room. Still, he’d expected worse. The settlement was supposed to have hundreds of people, and there are only dozens in need of a bullet.

Its only once they’ve begun the unpleasant work of sweeping the shantytown that they find answers. Nestled at the center of a cluster of crude shelters, Ryan finds a trio of syringes, quarter-full of Blight, at the center of a scene of complete carnage. You could identify the beginning of a Vector outbreak by where the bodies are most horribly mangled and eaten away, where the Casualties are too badly mauled to move and merely click their teeth in frustration.

“Fucking doomsday cultists. Smuggled in some hot blight and just….” He mutters, then stomps the glass vials to leak their contents out onto the ground, where it will go inert.

When the DHQS squad returns to join the Mall group, they find their building surrounded by corpses mounded up nearby. “Anybody else want to go open some scotch? McCallan, 20 years or so at this point. Or a coffee? Call it a thank you present for doing a damn fine job.”

 

[spottednewt]

“There’s a second swarm coming in from the east,” The strained voice of a young man - Theo, the caravan’s only rookie and only other sniper - sounded off over the ensemble of groans and gunfire. The crackling of silence that followed in her earpiece was deafening. In the next moment, the bullets stopped as the soldiers all shared one thought: What were the chances? In perfect militarized synchronization and taking their hive mind one step further, not one in fifteen soldiers even bothered to look to the east and the clearing that droves of the dead spilled out of; but instead to the horizon and the west. Instead of shuffling feet, they scanned for still ones - for deviation from the flow of bumbling traffic.

Of course, hordes still existed in the west. Ambling along the desolate countryside in pursuit of deer they’d never catch and a destination they’d never truly find. In the beginning they were dangerous, picking up fresh vectors with every new kill that maintained their mobility. Like a dark cloud you couldn’t quite shake, tipping off a horde was a death sentence more often than not. –But that was in the early days. With time and decay, it was less common to come across a swarm of the dead, never mind one that moved any faster than a turtle’s pace. With their armored vehicles and healthy stocks of ammunition, one, or even two was no problem - but too strange for comfort.

One drove was a thorn in the side; two - in this stretch of land - was suspicious.

Laying flat on her stomach atop a humvee, Liberty could feel a wave of adrenaline crash over her when she took the first shot into the thick that earned a wail of agony. The cries quickly created a frenzy that disrupted the natural flow of the herd even further, causing a few sets of feet to shuffle backward instead of forward. With careful precision, she made sure the next ones fell quietly.

“Lucky!” “--Lucky shot!” “Luuuuucky, try it again.” The roll call of banter over the radio came quickly with a nickname she’d earned early on in their mission. Affectionate, but vexing; as all idle prattle within the company was - ‘Lucky’ was due to be tattooed across her lower back at the next camp they made due to a rather unlucky bet. While she was being ribbed for her ‘luck,’ her counterpart, Theo, was yet again wrestling with a jammed gun atop the vehicle ahead of her with greedy, grasping hands on either side of him.

“We could use another hand up here,” She shot back through a lopsided grin, made painful by the fresh, still-angry-red stitches across her left cheek.

The vehicle shifted as she felt another body climb gracefully onto the roof from the inner hatch, earning little more from her than instructions by way of greeting, “Will you cover Theo up there?” The young man was quickly getting frazzled in a way that made LJ linger just a moment too long; long enough that by the time she turned her head to identify her reinforcement, all she managed to register was the tread of an NUSA issued boot before in planted squarely into her face and the lights went out.

Even now, worlds and what felt like years away from that memory, it was still so sharp that Liberty could feel the ringing of gunshots in her ears and the metallic taste of blood in her mouth.

Suddenly, her granola bar was somehow even less appealing. Tucking it away clumsily into the pocket of her vest, Liberty slid from the hood of the car and landed heavily on her boots with a crunch. Graceless, she pulled a knife from the inner workings of one of her pockets as she neared the corpse in front of her. While she couldn’t deny that she was angry; that for just one second, she considered taking out the needless deaths of fourteen good men and women on the primal, hungry eyes in front of her - she knew her grief would mellow, and she knew that more needless violence was the last thing this world needed.

“I don’t think you would’ve wanted to be this way. I think it’s time you find some rest, mister.”

~

The road ahead was filled with more trial than triumph. Archer quickly found herself frustrated with the number of breaks she needed, and eventually saw fit to make camp beneath an SUV for reasons that would baffle her in the morning. Twice, she had to backtrack for hours after having forgotten where she was headed. By the time she finally reached the outer perimeter of The Mall, another good chunk of time had been completely lost on her, her memory having retained none of the better part of her journey.

As she neared the gate, a shuffling came from behind her. Another wanderer, only slightly less fortunate than herself, drudged along to the drum of their own mindless groaning and gnashing of teeth. Delirious, and with her last two brain cells working overtime for self-preservation, Liberty chose to climb instead of standing to fight. For some reason, the thought of putting this ghost down like all the others had never crossed her mind; not even as despondent fingers hooked onto her back pocket - grasping clumsily at the seat of her pants in a futile attempt to pull her down.

“No, Sir,” the words spilled haphazardly from her mouth as she jerked her hip to free herself before a few more laborious heaves earned her a seat atop wooden pillar that linked a large, reinforced gate to chain-link fence. “You can’t afford that.”

Just that easily, she had become the squeaky license plate.

 

[queendilettante]

Sybille waved to the group on the roof and gave them a thumbs up as she approached with the DHQS and Ash. Truthfully, she was expecting a much bigger challenge than it was to actually clear the airport. If it wasn't for the injuries that happened leading up to the clearing, they probably would have finished with enough time to spare to return to the Mall that day. Of course, there were the injuries, and the sun was beginning to set. Sybille yawned and stretched out her arms. She tossed her shotgun around her shoulder by the strap and knelt down to give Santa some much needed and well deserved belly rubs.

When Santa had his fill, Sybille stood back up and called over to the crew that had descended from the roof. "Let's set up camp inside one of the buildings and head out at first light. Lars, Teddy, and Leon need to rest. I'll take the first watch with..." Sybille trailed off as she glanced around the very obviously tired group. They all really pulled their weight today - even the DHQS. They cleared all infected from the airport without any casualties. Even if they were to all die tomorrow, they all did good work.

"Ollie!" she spat out, realizing she trailed off. "Ollie and I will stand outside and keep watch for the first few hours and then we'll trade with Fred and Ryan." Sybille turned her head to the DHQS commander and smiled. "No objections, I trust?"

---

The night passed without issue and the large group set out at first light as planned. Teddy's leg wasn't in very good shape and Leon was still largely out of it, so they were strapped to stretchers attached to the Dronkey. Lars insisted he was well enough to lead the group back to the Mall, and considering he was the best able bodied tracker among them, Sybille didn't see a justifiable reason to argue.

They weren't nearly as spread out on the way back as they were on the way to the airport. With two majorly injured, they just didn't have the numbers to move the way they did before. Sybille passed the time watching the horizon, scratching Santa behind the ears, and chatting with Ash, Charlie, or Ollie- whoever was closest to her at the time.

A few hours later and with no run-ins with either Casualties or, god forbid, vectors, the group arrived back at the Mall. Sybille let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding as soon as she saw the eastern gates and her store within them. Approaching the gate with her group, Sybille saw a woman sitting on top of one of the posts and looking down at a long-decaying Casualty below her. One of the gate guards slowly walked over and stabbed the Casualty with one of the fence spears before shouting up to the woman to, Sybille guessed, get down. Even at the distance when Sybille first spotted her, she could see the similar colors to the DHQS soldier behind her.

As the scene unfolded, the group walked to the gate, were inside of the decontamination area for a minute to make sure no one was turning, and then let fully into the Mall proper. From inside the gate, Sybille could see the woman on the post much more clearly. Keeping her eyes on what was happening with her and the guard, she called back to the Mall crew. "Great work everyone. I'll catch up with everyone, but if you all could help Charlie get the injured to the hospital, that'd be wonderful" She then turned to Ryan and the other DHQS. "Uh, McCarthy, is that one of yours?"

 

[Vudukudu]

At the northern gate, Ryan swaggers up like he owns the place, rifle swinging lazily on its sling across his chest. The sight of a DHQS uniform perched on top of one of the fence posts draws his eye before Sybille brings attention to it, and he takes his helmet off before putting his aviators on. He gives the woman a once-over, noting her rifle, the rank badge on her upper arm, and what else there is to see. "Specialist Archer, I presume? You look like shit." He says plainly, then turns to Fred. "Get the dronkey back to the post and do inventory. I'll take care of.. this." He says, nodding towards Liberty.

"You wanna come down from there, or are you gonna make me keep looking up at you like this?"

Liberty gave a half-hearted two-finger salute at the mention of her name and state of being; along with a quick nod of agreement with both statements. Stiff muscles moved to begin the awkward process of lowering herself down from the pole.

"Yes, sir," the rasp in her voice made her dehydration apparent, "Daddy always taught me to stay one place when I got lost. Your gate looked finer-than-frog-hair to me." A flicker of a frown crossed her face as she dropped down onto her feet and finally registered the words that had already left her mouth. Now, she really did sound like her father --and maybe Dolly Parton.

Removing her helmet as well, she made quick work of sticking her hand out to shake, despite another wave of nausea that threatened to make her stagger.

Ryan takes her hand and gives it the most gentle of shakes. Frankly, it looks like a strong wind could blow her over, and it gives him pause when he realizes she probably has been like this for awhile. Most in her state would probably have stumbled into trouble and met their end. The fact that she made it here meant she was either lucky or someone he was very lucky to have. When he takes his hand away from her, he offers her his canteen, though its only about a third of the way full.

"Well, the good news is you aren't lost. You're exactly where you're supposed to be. I'm Agent Ryan McCarthy, Department of Quarantine and Homeland Security. You were supposed to be here a few days ago with two trucks full of material and fourteen more men. I think you and I need to have a chat. When's the last time you had a real meal, Liberty?"

A hard, dry swallow caught in Liberty's throat as she tried her best to stifle the fluttering in her chest at accepting the canteen. Quickly; greedily, she poured some of the liquid down the back of her throat.

"It's nice to meet you, Agent McCarthy," She nodded solemnly, emptying the last of the liquid into her mouth like a shot of whiskey. "I'm afraid we do need a chat,-- and it's been awhile, sir." While her demeanor darkened slightly at the mention of her squadron, she did her best to suppress them from her mind - as well as the well over a week that she had been wandering from place to place, fueling herself with scraps. In that moment, with the audience of her new superior and new coworkers as they filed back inside, Liberty had become all too aware of the swelling of her eyes and stinging welt across her cheek.

She wasn't sure where Bill Archer was in that moment, but he'd be feeling a disturbance in the force at her forgetting her good southern upbringing. --She showed up to the party looking a mess, and hadn't even brought a bottle of wine for the host.

Ryan offers a sympathetic frown, probably one of the most sincere emotional displays he's presented so far at the Mall. It was hard not to sympathize with her, to feel that hunger clawing at her belly and the dehydration making her cheeks sink. He'd looked a lot like her in Cleveland. "Come along then. Lets get you a bite, a warm shower, and some gatorade. We've got two flavors, and they're both blue." He says, giving her a pat on the back to nudge her in the direction of the recently fortified currency exchange now acting as DHQS' local outpost. "You can explain everything once you look more like us than them. Speaking of, I'm gonna need you to submit to a bite check. The corporal will handle it." He goes on, jabbing a finger at Winters, who offers up a nod and an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Once all of Liberty's needs have been tended to, Ryan awaits her in his office, feet kicked up on his desk and a small pour of scotch in a plastic cup, the bottle sitting beside it. Mostly, he's just been smelling it, taking some small pleasure in just having it. When she enters, he motions to the chair opposite him at the desk. "No need to keep up formalities. Back east we might pretend its the post-apocalypse but out here its still very much happening. You've got permission to speak freely as long as you keep our reputation intact. Now tell me what happened."

 

[Togy]

Teddy and Lars are psychos if you haven't caught on yet
​

The ride back to the Mall had been uneventful, Teddy spending half of it walking just to spite everyone telling him to let the Dronkey carry him. Eventually, he'd realized that riding a robot horse was actually really, really fucking cool, so he'd done just that.

Breaking off from the rest of the group with Lars, Teddy squinted at the receding sun.

"Hell, there's still time left in the day. Think we can run some errands?"

"Errands? In your state?" Lars asked with a raised eyebrow. He wasn't doing too great himself, and Teddy was essentially half a walking corpse. "What kind of activities do you have in mind?" Lars couldn't even pretend the promise of some kind of wasteland activity with his wounded battle-buddy didn't sound fun as hell. Teddy probably found out by now that Lars was way too easy to tempt with the promise of the new, the exciting, and the eventful.

"Eh, nothing too exciting, just something to burn time" Teddy gave a shrug. "I mean, what's the alternative? Head back to camp and wait until lights out? I'm sure we can find a little down-low job somewhere in the market and be back in bed before it gets dark out."

Lars seemed to hesitate, giving Teddy's leg a glance. However, his conscious seemed to have come to a conclusion as he hiked up his rifle on his shoulder. "Alright, let's do it. Let's find a quick job to finish off the night on a high note."

"Quick n' easy," Teddy assured, "Get a cat out of a tree or something, twenty minutes, tops."

4 HOURS LATER
​

Teddy sunk farther into the ruined, moldy, bloodied car seat as Lars steered them forward. He was breathing hard and fast, still trying to calm his racing heart, when he reached up a hand to wipe the sweat-or blood, he didn't know at this point-off his brow. He'd lean out the window for some air, but, well, there wasn't a window anymore, they'd lost his side door some two miles back. Every once in a while, a fresh spurt of black, acrid smoke would waft in from the gaping hole in the windshield and send Teddy into a coughing fit.

Not Lars, though. He was starting to see the merits of that gas mask, the lucky bastard.

"Holy shit..." Teddy said, for what felt like the millionth time, "HOLY SHIT."

Lars drove silently with his mask covering his face completely. Though his visibility was reduced, it helped him from choking on fumes the way poor Teddy was from time to time. Even with the protection of his poncho and mask, his body was practically covered head to toe in blood and guts. Spent casings littered the entire interior of the vehicle they rode in, with more than a few bullet holes ridding the exterior. It's a good thing the windshield wipers still worked, since viscera blotted out most of Lars' view in front of them except for a small clearing from the blades keeping it clean. "I know," Lars agreed with Teddy's exclamation once again. "I cannot believe we're still breathing. Mostly."

Teddy turned to face his fellow blonde, shifting his feet and in doing so sloshed a sizable puddle of blood, viscera, and shell casing out the side of the car. "I am So sorry. I thought we were just gonna raid a pre-school of wet wipes and crayons, I had NO idea this would happen."

Lars gave a rather casual shrug, leaving on hand on the wheel while the other rested by his side. "No worries. We're both alive, we got what we came for in - mostly - one piece, and we should get a decent payout for it." Lars let a pause resonate inside the vehicle for a bit before adding, "...And it was a helluva lot of fun."

"I mean...yeah" Teddy said, nodding along with a small smile forming that looked borderline manic with the amount of blood on him. "Scared the ever-loving shit out of me, but ain't that half the fun?"

Leaning back in his seat, Teddy gave Lars a look. "I couldn't actually tell you were enjoying yourself," Teddy said thoughtfully, "It's the mask, y'know?"

"That's the whole point of it," Lars admitted. "I don’t... like people seeing me. Seeing emotions of mine. Not sure how I could explain it better." Lars began to slow down as they approached the outer gates of The Mall. "Might've gone through hell for this damn piece of junk, but maybe Sybille can whip it up into a nice limo for the Founders to take joyrides in."

"Three cheers for bureaucracy," Teddy said dryly, more focused on Lars' previous sentence. Was it a way to create emotional distance? Teddy wouldn't dare to say he understood or pry, the man was welcome to his own oddities just like everyone else.

"You ever do anything like this?" Teddy asked, curious, "Like, action, adventure, all that, before the apoc?"

Lars held up an imaginary glass to cheer to Teddy's words. "Life for me before the Crash was just... hunting, enjoying the wild, carving things out of wood to pass the time. It was difficult for a few years but after I got the whole survivalist thing down, it was almost dull, if not for the beauty of nature." Lars sighed as he remembered the enjoyment he took in hunting. It was such a shame most wildlife was long gone now. "So, not really much action, but a lot of killing things still. What about you? What'd you do before the apocalypse?"

"Man, what didn't I do," Teddy began, giving a low whistle, "Planned on being a professional hunter when I got out of high school, used to go on hunting trips every weekened growing up. That didn't work out, so I tried the police academy. That...also didn't work out. But, hey, least I got actual training before shit went tits up. More or less, anyway."

Teddy snorted, then. "And, for my job right before the crash, I was a wedding photographer. That job carried me these last eight years, hands down. Never woulda survived my first encounter without that skillset."

Again, Teddy gained a curious look. "What was your first encounter with the living dead?"

Lars looked over to Teddy, raising an eyebrow behind his mask. "Interesting question," Lars said, thinking it over in his mind. "It was a week or two after the apocalypse started. I was so isolated, I missed the launch of the end of the world. Of course, I noticed the ground rumble and the distant explosions, but I had no idea what was going on till I got to Seattle. Place was nothing but rubble besides the suburbs surrounding the city."

"Car got stolen by Raiders. Got my teeth kicked in by more Raiders. Tried taking shelter in a nearby home during the night, it was a total downpour. Didn't notice the Zeke till I was already cornered in the bedroom looking for supplies. Instict took over when I saw his ugly, rotting brain sticking out of his head as he approached me. Broke the leg off the night stand and beat it's brains in till it stopped moving. I only found the gun in the night stand after I killed it." Lars gave a chuckle.

Lars paused to let it settle in for a bit. "Of course, I'm gonna ask you next; what was yours?"

Teddy snorted at that before sitting up. “Okay, but you have to promise not to laugh, alright?”

Lars' curiosity made him reply nearly instantly. "Go for it, won't laugh. Promise."

“Okay, well, I slept through the start of it too. More like drank through it, actually. First think I remember is waking up on my couch, hungover as all hell. There’s a massive storm outside and my AC cut out, not because of the end of the world, it was just shitty, so I was sporting a cold. I thought, at the moment, that a shower would just be fantastic right about now. This was before the water and electricity shut off by the way.”

“So, all I’m wearing is my boxers, wallowing in my own hangover in a cold shower, feeling like I’m gonna throw up, when a Vector just soars through my bathroom window. I have no idea how or why it aggroed onto my house, all I knew was that thing was pissed as all hell. The thing flies through the window, full on dolphin dives across the room, crashes through my glass shower door, and slams into the wall.”

“At the time, I had no fucking idea what this thing was. So, naturally, I start screaming. So it starts screaming. It’s trying to bite me, I’m trying to bite it, it’s pure chaos. It must have fucked itself up pretty good going through all that glass and slamming into the wall though, because it wasn’t doing a great job at killing me. I slip in the shower, almost crack my head on the tiles and nearly land dick-first on a shard of glass. The vector slips too, cracks its head, and by some divine intervention, dies instantly. Just like that.”

Lars didn't respond for a moment, taking in the extravagant first kill Teddy had. It was impressive, and completely Teddy's style, to say the least. "Well, you've got a better origin story than I do, that's for sure. Killing a Vector with a slippery tile floor; that's one hell of a merit to have. In fact, you're probably the only person who can say that, I'd bet."

"Eh, it was mostly just incoherent screaming." Looking down at his feet, Teddy looked thoughtful.

"Do you think we should toss out all the blood and viscera before we reach the gate? The long intestines have to go, at least."

"Long intestines only," Lars said with a nod. "I'll be damned if we bring back a working vehicle and we need to clean it all up, too."

Nodding sagely, Teddy hooked his foot around a long intestine curled on the floor and flung it out the truck. Gently unwrapping the second intestine from the stick shift, he hurled it out of the car before looking down, going into deep consideration, and kicked a kidney out the door with a shrug.

Twisting in his seat, Teddy looked out the rear window of the truck cab.

"Oh shit," Teddy said, eyes widening. "Vinny's still in the truck bed. Or, half of him is, anyway. I'll be back in a sec." With that, Teddy began to crawl out of the back window and into the truck bed to kick the disemboweled lower half off the truck.

Lars watched in what was left of the rearview mirror as Teddy unceremoniously discarded Vinny's legs; poor guy didn't deserve it, but he also played it just a little too haphazardly. Rambo mode does that to people, unfortunately. After tossing out a few bits of brain and an impaled arm from the side of the truck, Lars waved dismissively. "Let the repair people deal with the rest. We did our part." Lars stood slowly and stretched, admittedly sore from the day of adventure they had. "Let's collect our payment and get going."

Rayney Day Mechanics
​

The last lights of day crept away as Teddy and Lars' blood-covered pickup truck trundled towards Sybille's garage. The truck was so low to the ground that anyone could tell the suspension was broken, the front bumper and grill was missing, exposing the engine block and the copious amounts of smoke pouring out of it, the passenger door was gone, the driver's door was dented inwards and likely couldn't even open, the roof of the vehicle looked ready to blow off in the wind, and the LMG crudely mounted on the bed of the truck had its barrel bent at a ninety-degree angle, it's receiver melted together, and it's magazine charred and raked with holes. Judging by the twisted brass poking out of the box magazine, it was easy to see that the bullets inside the magazine had exploded.

As the truck rolled into the garage, the rear bumper unceremoniously fell off, apparently only having been attached to the truck itself by a string of sinew.

"Hey Sybille!" Teddy waved through the broken windshield, sprinkling off loose bits of viscera and blood from his arm while doing so.

Lars gave a curt wave through the open window of the bent door, bringing the vehicle to a creeping stop. The creak of the wheels as it slowed made Lars wince a bit. "Howdy," He said in a deadpan voice as he turned the keys and shut off the engine with a sputter of smoke. Lars gave the door a few tries, helplessly trying to rock open the bent metal with no success. He then gave up and climbed out of the window unceremoniously. "She's a little worse for wear, but no doubt another vessel in The Mall's fleet." Lars patted the truck, unfortunately causing another piece of the chassis to come loose. "Well, she will be at least, once our best mechanic does a once-over with her."

Sybille stood, dumbstruck, as the two men rode in on what had to be the closest-to-death vehicle she had ever seen still running. There were hundreds of vehicles lining the long abandoned Missouri roads within a mile radius of the Mall that looked almost new - minus the rust - but wouldn't start even if Hephaestus himself appeared and tried to fix them. Sybille was awestruck. "What in the fuck happened to this?" She asked, mouth still agape.

"I...kind of lost track, honestly" Teddy said with a shrug, hopping out of the truck with a skip in his step a newly forming puddle of blood at his feet.

"Lars? You got the full story man?"

As Lars wiped off some spare viscera on his mask, he slowly took it off and breathed in deep. "Well, Vinny said he knew where a working car was. We tag along, extra firepower and what not. Get there, it's in a garage with the door jammed. Pry it open; turns out, the place was still powered by solar on the roof. Alarms went off, we all hopped in, and from the drive there to here, well," Lars shrugged. "Half of Vinny was gone, and about a hundred Casualties later, we're back home. Teddy and I, at least." Lars wasn't very fond of Vinny, but he didn't quite deserve to die. Lars was sure the Mall wouldn't be too worse off without him, though. "Anyway, if you want help hammering out the dents or washing off the blood, I have an hour or two to kill."

"He's just saying that to be polite" Teddy piped in.

"I was just saying that to be polite." Lars repeated with a nod. "Please don't make me clean it."

Sybille glared at the two. "If you want this car to be used again, you're gonna help." Santa yapped randomly, though Sybille took it as agreement. She scratched him behind his ears.

Lars raised a hand in protest, before saying, "Uh, hey, speaking of help, I think I see a gas tank about to explode over there!" Lars gestured vaguely behind Sybille. "We should leave before Sybille accidentally blows us up, Ted." Lars said, agreeing with his own statement and hurriedly backing up towards the exit. For added effect, Lars tossed the keys at Sybille, hitting her square in the chest. They clattered to the floor unceremoniously. "Good luck with the car!"

"Really, on god, right behind you Syb! Flames spurting man, they're reaching the ceiling, how are you not noticing?" Ted laughed nervously backing up with Lars. He didn't think she was buying it.

Teddy elbowed the taller blonde, hissing "RUN!" Before turning on his heel and breaking into a dead sprint.

Lars took the other blonde's advice and kept pace with him, the two adeptly fleeing from the intimidating Sybille.

Sybille rolled her eyes and passively flipped her middle finger at the two. She turned to the truck and rubbed her forehead. “Guess you’ll be for parts…”

 

[Viper Actual]

Green = gouache
Blue = Viper Actual

Earlier...

The two babysitters had finally gotten the youngest child, Maddy, to fall asleep after hours upon hours of her hysterically crying for her father. It took both of their strength to take on the challenge, which drained them both of their energy. Maddy refused to give up, so the fact she finally passed out due to pure exhaustion was a relief- to say the least. Leon had told them earlier that Maddy would take a couple naps in between the day, so it was likely she would go down for one anyways.

The baby, although asleep, was still sniffling and whimpering- her little eyes swollen from the tears. It was hard to witness. Meanwhile, the eldest daughter had been gleefully spinning around the room without a care in the world. Unlike her sister, who was hanging on by a thread.

Camille rolled around on the carpet while ‘reading’ (she couldn’t read) a book to herself. It was clear she was becoming sleepy by how calm she had become now.. after hours of pure chaos. The two babysitters, Ariel and Thea, would switch between each other, one caring for the distraught baby, and the other playing with the oldest. Now that it was peaceful again, the eye before the storm, the two babysitters wanted to take a little break to recollect themselves. They had managed to call for someone to watch over the children while they took a break, and were now just waiting to be released upon their arrival.

“Camille..” Ariel whispered, scooching over to the toddler occupied by her little book. Camille’s ears perked up at the sound of her name. “Wah?” She loudly chirped as she swung her legs around, before wiggling to a seated position. The two babysitters hushed the toddler, afraid she could possibly wake the baby up. “We are gonna leave for a bit, but we will be right back, but someone is going to watch you while we are away.” She said in a quiet voice, praying Camille would be okay with this sudden change.

“Okay!” Camille exclaimed with a wide smile on her face. She was once again hushed by the two. “But you have to be quiet.. because Maddy is sleeping, okay?” Ariel muttered, putting a finger to her lips. “Ohh.. Okay.” Camille whispered playfully, like being silent to keep her sister from waking was a game. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have cared to play along.

Thea glanced back at Maddy to see if she was still asleep- and thankfully she was. Hopefully she would stay that way while the others would watch them. Thea gently adjusted the baby's blanket to tuck her in completely, and made sure her tiny arms were inside. Their father told them Maddy specifically liked being wrapped up like a cocoon and patted on her stomach to help her to sleep, and he was clearly correct- of course he was. Impatient they waited for the new babysitters to show up, unbeknownst to them of who would be replacing them for now. Ariel quietly scurried over to the door to look out for them, wanting to catch them before coming inside to warn them the baby was sleeping.

Casually strolling through the Mall's crowded albeit organized (and surprisingly clean) hallways were Coyt and Rawson- two junior members of the local security force.

Usually they'd be posted alongside the perimeter or busy carrying out patrols but the two guards had been called upon to relieve Ariel and Thea- a pair of fellow Mall citizens currently caring for the children of one of the guys sent on the mission with the NUSA-spooks.

Normally the two of them would have been opposed to spending an hour or two watching over children but currently it was raining like never before outside, thus the opportunity to stay inside felt much more attractive and beneficial.

Rawson frowned. Coyt rolled his eyes and sighed. "What?"

"Nothing," Rawson mumbled.

"I can practically hear your misery," said Coyt, shaking his head.

Rawson shrugged. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his woodland fatigues with his shoulders and the upper parts of his webbing showing signs of raindrops.
"You think he misses us?" He asked, shuffling his boot-clad feet behind him.

Coyt blinked. "Who?"

Rawson sighed and looked to his friend. "Y'know, Fred."

Coyt used his right forearm to wipe his face. He shook his head once more. "That's why you're so miserable? You're thinking about Fred of all people?"

"Yes?" Replied Rawson, as if the answer had been completely obvious.

"You realize he's bribing us, right? Just so we lay off him?"

Rawson nodded. "I know. But that doesn't make his MREs any less tasty. Plus, maybe he does enjoy hanging out with us." The security officer shrugged. "He seems lonely, y'know."

"Fair enough," said Coyt, shrugging. "I'd be too if I were stuck on the other side of the world. Europe isn't exactly an hour away."

By now the two officers had reached the room where they had been told to go. Neither of them were sure of what it had been pre-Zekepocalypse but that didn't matter as every now and then a room or two changed hands and function in the Mall.

Just as they approached the door they met Ariel and Thea. Coyt nodded curtly. "Ladies," he said. Rawson nodded and scratched his head, trying his best not to blush as he had always had a crush on Thea.

Coyt noticed his friend falling unusually silent and elbowed him before continuing;

"Are they asleep?"

“One of them is.” Thea sighed, “Thankfully the most difficult of the two.. The other is up but she’s pretty calm at the moment.” Although she was certain that wouldn’t last upon meeting two new people. Camille was easy to excite and hyperactive, but was a good girl regardless- just wild. Nothing they couldn’t handle. She wasn’t sure if the boys could though, but with Maddy asleep it would hopefully be easier to manage.

“Thank you both for coming.. It really helps us out.” Thea smiled warmly at the two, gently grazing her hand over theirs. She noticed their sleeves were rather damp. “Let’s get you two warmed up as well. It’s pretty cozy here.” Thea quickly turned her head around from the door to see how the girls were doing. Thankfully, Camille was quietly reading her book, and Maddy was still asleep. Ariel sat beside the baby like Leon requested for them to do while she slept. Her friend gave her a thumbs up, gesturing they could come in but to be quiet.

Thea faced the two men again, but this time silently opened the door. “Just try and be quiet..” She mumbled, holding a finger to her lips. Ariel gave them a small wave once she noticed them at the door. It was a relief to see the two.

Camille upon hearing the door open swung her head around. Her eyes widened at the sight of them, surprised to see such a different set of people compared to the women she had been spending time with. Camille was about to say something- but Thea quickly hushed her. “Come here..” She sharply whispered, waving the toddler over to her.

Camille perked up immediately and scrambled to her feet. She was already full of energy, and hopped over to them on her toes. Thea carefully took a knee to meet the toddler’s eyes, “Introduce yourself.. But be quiet.” She said, keeping her finger to her lips.

“I’m Camille..!” The toddler said in a breathy whisper and a wide toothy smile. Her deep brown eyes seemed to sparkle.

Coyt nodded. "Understood." While perhaps not the most experienced with children he did at least understand how they worked and even then he was stubborn enough to outlast any toddler in a battle o' wills.

Rawson might have thought the same thing- had he not been entirely focused on Thea and her warm smile. The added graze was enough to freeze Rawson in place and suddenly his previous thoughts of Fred, Fred's gun lessons, Fred's MREs and other cool, Fred-related subjects were hurled out of his mind with careless disregard and abandon.

The young security officer tried to say something witty or even flirty in response but only managed to produce a "Ech" which- thankfully- Thea did not pick up as she had already spun around and entered the room after urging the two of them to be quiet.

Coyt placed a hand on Rawson and practically led him inside, letting go only once he felt confident in the fine motor skills of his friend. He nodded curtly towards Ariel but remained silent.
He motioned for Rawson to hand him his rifle and then pointed at Thea before approaching a locker not too far away where they could safely store their firearms out of reach from the children.

As Coyt secured their rifles Rawson reluctantly took a knee next to Thea and would've most likely continued to focus on her had he not been greeted by the small girl.
He returned the smile with a grin and glanced at Thea before responding; "I'm Rawson- but you can call me Eddie."

Rawson extended his pinky finger jokingly. "Nice to meet you Camille."

Meanwhile Coyt sat down next to Ariel, perfectly content with watching over the sleepint baby. He nodded towards Maddy before whispering; "Anything I need to know or do we just try to get both of them to get some sleep?"

“No… I’m sure Camille won’t be going to sleep anytime soon.” Ariel softly sighed. She gazed at the angelic baby snoozing away, her little arms resting over her head, and face still flushed. She was surprised that she had stayed asleep even with a bit of commotion. Maddy must’ve been a heavy sleeper, on top of the exhaustion of all those tears.

Camille coyly smiled at Rawson’s gesture instead of acknowledging his greeting, she spun on her heel and wiggled away from them. Thea raised a brow, unsure of why exactly the toddler was behaving bashfully. “Alright..” Thea laughed faintily and stood up from her kneeled position. “She’s a little odd.” She folded her arms across her chest while intently watching Camille twirl around her belongings she immediately unpacked once her father left. “We’ll stay here for a bit so you two are settled.” Thea muttered as she smiled reassuringly to Rawson.

“The youngest one is Maddy.” Ariel said, and turned her attention to both the men. “We are hoping she stays asleep and sitting next to her will be enough while you watch them. But..” She silently pointed to Maddy’s belongings just a few feet away from where she was sleeping. “If she wakes up.. Fingers crossed she doesn’t.” Ariel sighed heavily, “Her things are in that diaper bag. Their father suggested giving her a bottle if she does get up and she will usually go back to sleep.”

“I already made a bottle just in case.” Thea interjected, her line of vision not breaking from Camille. She could see the toddler was digging around in her own bag.. Assuming it was something to play with. Of course, Camille lifted a handful of tiny bottles of nail polish into the air to show them. The toddler impatient grunted and aggressively patted the floor for Rawson to come to her. Leon had told them many times it was her favorite thing, and they would most likely fall victim to it.

“Sorry.. no one is spared.” Thea awkwardly laughed, showing Rawson her already smudged and chaotic, but colorful painted nails. Camille wouldn’t give them a choice in the matter.

"Gotcha'," said Coyt nodding. He allowed himself to relax a bit and sighed. Seeing a baby these days was truly something special, especially one that looked as healthy as Maddy.

He was no egghead (far from it), but if he'd hazard a guess then the Zekepocalypse most likely put a serious dent on global population numbers.
Not many people would want to risk bringing a child into a world such as this though at the same time it was required- should they ever be able to rebuild.

Coyt studied Maddy and watched her breathe slowly while sound asleep. In a way it wasn't just Leon's duty to keep the girls safe but the entirety of the Mall as well.

Rawson watched Camille speed off with a confused smile. Like Thea, he stood up and chuckled softly. He returned the smile and nodded. "Thanks Thea, appreciate it."

He was unsure what to do or say next but before the situation turned awkward Ariel spoke up. Grateful for something else to focus on he nodded, as did Coyt.

Rawson took a deep breath and as he did he felt Thea's scent. It reminded him of the flowerbeds in the park his parents used to take him to a long time ago. Before he could ponder on it further Camille triumphantly displayed her arsenal of nail cosmetics.

Rawson laughed and scratched his neck as a very commanding Camille demanded his presence on the floor next to her. He gave Thea a brief smile and shrug before taking a seat next to Camille. "Alright," he said, smirk on his lips. "I want at least one flower," he said softly.

Coyt smiled briefly and exhaled. There were by far worse assignments than this one. Without a doubt.

“She’s a plump baby, eats better than any of us.” Ariel laughed, taking notice of Coyt studying Maddy. Ariel’s Hungarian accent, thick like honey, was clear now once she stopped whispering so softly. “And without a mother too..” She frowned, “It’s amazing they have gotten this far with just a father, especially a baby. It’s tragic.”

Herself and Thea had known his wife, Ellie, since the little family joined the mall. Before Maddy was born, and Camille was just a baby. They were both close with Ellie, and spent a lot of time working together throughout the mall. Camille would often join them, but she was young to remember. Ellie was warm and beautiful, and took up a room like the sun. Ellie and Leon looked like they came out of an old hollywood film when they would come together. It was clear they both were meant to be together as partners and loving parents.

It was sudden and without any form of warning, when Ellie passed away. Thea and Ariel the other day had talked to her about how Maddy was doing. They both saw Ellie less than usual with her having a new born baby, so they were both really happy to see her again. She looked well and full of life. Ellie told them about how excited she was for the coming month, when Maddy would finally be two months old. The next morning, she just didn’t wake up again.

It had been a long time since they had last seen the two children. A day after her passing, they watched the girls while Leon buried his wife alone in the cold. After that, they didn’t see the girls again until today.

“Hopefully..” Ariel silently stood to her feet, “You will both be good men while we are gone, yes?” She patted her dress to get out of any wrinkles from having been seated for so long. Thea took notice of her friend getting up, who was signalling to her that it was time to go. Although worried about leaving the two with the children, they both really needed a break to get themselves back together again for the rest of the day.

“Camille..” Thea sharply whispered to get her attention, but she was clearly too distracted. The toddler was frantically showing Rawson all the sorts of colors she had available to choose from. Thea slowly came around to Rawson’s side, and knelt down beside Camille. She didn’t react to Thea, so she took Camille by the chin, much like how she observed Ellie would do with her. “We are going to be right back. Rawson and Coyt are going to be staying here with you while we are gone, okay?” Ariel brushed Camille’s hair from behind her ears to get a good look at her, a face so similar to her mothers. It felt as if she was looking at Ellie again.

“Okaay…” Camille murmured with a small pout. “Remember what your father said about taking care of Maddy?” “Yeeess…” Camille whined as she tried to wiggle out of Ariel’s reach, but she held her still. “Help the boys with her if they need it, alright?” Ariel stated while not breaking eye contact with the toddler. “Okay!” Camille griped impatiently, finally she was let loose and went right back to what she was doing before.

“Okay boys, we’ll be back soon.” Thea anxiously said. She was still worried of how this would play out, but trusted Rawson and Coyt would be able to handle it. They both gave the three a small wave, and silently stepped outside the room before shutting it behind them.

“What do you want?” Camille quickly interrupted the silence by smacking Rawson’s leg to get his attention. “I don’t have blue.. I can draw a heart!” The toddler yapped all this out so fast that it was hard to understand. “This is mine!” Camille loudly exclaimed as she slid her hot pink nail polish behind her and out of his reach. In case he would try and steal it.

"It's nothing short of a miracle," Coyt said while nodding in agreement. "For what it's worth the two of them have a larger family than any of us ever did."
Coyt laid down and rested his head in the palm of his right hand. "It must count for something good."

Everyone knew everyone in the Mall but Coyt couldn't say that he'd ever done more than exchange words with Leon or his late wife. Both Camille and Maddy were the exception to the rule of keeping all the children together. Granted, both Coyt and Rawson had heard rumors from some of the older guys regarding Leon and his two children. Most folks knew of them but hadn't actually seen them for quite some time.

This in turn made people talk. Were they alive? Had he locked them up? Nobody knew for sure, though Coyt suspected that those whom had actually befriended the girl's father knew but were under strict orders to not talk. Honestly, Coyt couldn't blame the man. This world was dangerous, much more dangerous than the old one. Keeping your family safe via lock and key might not be optimal- but it worked.

Rawson did his best to keep up with Maddy. In fact, he was so distracted by the multitude of colors and the quick bursts of words that he barely reacted to Thea taking a knee besides him until she gently took the girl by her chin. Sure enough Camille did stop momentarily but just as fast as Thea left the girl resumed. Rawson managed to give Thea (and Ariel) a half-assed wave and a somewhat awkward smile as they two of them departed.

Meanwhile Coyt, still lying down, offered the two babysitters a two-fingered faux salute.

Once the door closed Coyt chuckled nervously and looked back at the nail polish. The smell reminded him of cleaning supplies and the smell of gun lubricant. His mind drifted to the firing range and to the sharpshooter lessons Fred had given him and Coyt. It was the first time in a long time since he'd been able to fire a proper long-gun.

In fact, the last time he did was before all hell went loose. He'd been with his father on an outdoors range. Coyt sighed. Maybe Fred will take us shooting when he comes back? A faint smile appeared on his face. Maybe he'll let us clean his rifles for him? We could listen to some mu-

Rawson's thoughts came to a sudden halt as Camille delivered a smack onto his left leg. The smile faded slightly and Rawson refocused on the toddler. "A heart will be wonderful," he said with another chuckle. "Could I get one blue and one yellow?"

“Okay..” Camille dug around in her pile of nail polish in search of her purple, blue, and yellow. “Don’t move, okay?” The toddler ordered, and placed Rawson’s hand onto her knees. She managed to open the clearly well used purple bottle of polish and tapped the brush to get the excess off. It was a clumsy attempt to keep the paint from dripping the way her mother would before doing her own nails, and afterwards she would let Camille do hers. Her mother did her nails every night before bed, a new color, and a new design.. Always flawless each time. She was especially talented at creating hearts.

Camille felt a pout pull at her lips as she clutched the brush with a tiny fist. She became silent in concentration, pressing the brush full of polish onto Rawson’s nail. Already it was full of mistakes. It covered the sides of his nail, and all over the cuticle. Camille inhaled shakily, holding her breath with both her eyes squinted. The more she painted, the more her lips began to tremble. When she painted both the babysitters' nails earlier, she was full of energy. But now she was tired, and her mind was wandering. It was often she would become upset even at the smallest memory of her mother.

The toddler dropped the polish onto the ground, and lifted her gaze up from his nails and frantically searched around the room for her father- then for Thea and Ariel. Neither of them were there, just the two men she had just met and her sister. Camille suddenly broke into tears, immediately followed by exhausted shrill cries.

Maddy’s eyes slowly fluttered open to the sound of her sister crying. Still half asleep, she turned her head slightly beside her. The baby was so used to her sister’s cries that it didn’t phase her, but it would always wake her up. She could vaguely see a masculine figure laying next to her.. similar to her fathers. So she assumed it was in fact Leon there napping with her like he always would be. The baby reached out to touch Coyt’s hand, her eyes beginning to steadily close again- but Camille’s cries kept her from dozing off completely and that greatly irritated her. Maddy quickly became fussy and into her own exhausted cries, opening and closing her fist to be held by who she thought was her father.

As Camille hesitated, shuddered and then broke into tears Rawsons smile waa turned upside down. Oh no... His eyes widened; What do I do?

Puzzled and unsure what to do with the crying girl he held up his hands and glanced at Coyt. As he looked over to his friend Maddy started to cry as well. Coyt's face was covered by an emotionally distant and distraught visage. The corner of his lips drooped and he sighed.

Rawson, now realizing that he had to "wing it" scooted over to Camille and embraced the girl in a awkward hug. "It's okay Camille- Uncle Eddie is here!" He adjusted his arms and lifted Camille slightly. "What's wrong?"

Coyt, still maintaining a blank starez grabbed hold of Maddy and gently lifted her up. "It's alright Maddy," he whispered softly with his eyes locked onto his semi-panicking friend. He rocked her gently while humming to a long-forgotten song, hoping that his deep and smooth voice would calm the baby as he attempted to locate the bottle.

* * *
​

Now...

Fred allowed himself to sigh with relief as the Mall and one of its reinforced gates came into view. Thankfully the journey back had been largely uneventful and Fred had been content sticking close to the dronkey checking the vitals on Quarterback and Tim Horton's whenever Doc asked him too. It was a simple task that required little to no equipment and with the dronkey showing little to no signs of struggling to ferry the two men it was an easy task as well.

Spotting a familiar uniform at the top of the gate Fred narrowed his eyes. Reinforcements? He narrowed his eyes, recalling that one of the messages he had passed on to McCarthy mentioned half a platoon being sent as support. Before he could inquire further Ryan gave him new orders;

"Get the dronkey back to the post and do inventory. I'll take care of.. this."​

Nodding, Fred looked at Charlie. "I'll help transport your people the last stretch before I break off." Though just as he finished speaking Tim Horton's decide to quite literally up and walk away with Apocalypse Now the moment the entire party had passed through the gates. Shaking his head, Fred patted the dronkey twice before moving on.

He passed by Liberty just as she was greeted by Ryan. "Ma'am," said Fred, nodding.

After dropping off Leon at the Mall's infirmary Fred was halfway back to the currency exchange office when a pair of familiar faces approached him. Coyt and Rawson looked pretty much the same way they looked when Fred departed for the mission with the exception of Rawson having a serious case of puppy-eyes. Fred nodded towards both men. "Coyt. Rawson."

Coyt returned the nod. "Fred." Rawson muttered something and kicked a small pebbel. Fred raised his eyebrow and motioned for the two men to follow.

"You two look miserable," he said. Coyt grunted. "Babysitting," the militia man said. Fred glanced at the man and nodded, as if understanding. Rawson nodded. The two men followed Fred and the dronkey all the way to the currency exchange office. Upon entering, Fred could hear Ryan's muffled voice upstairs as he most likely briefed the newcomer on the situation.

The dronkey was guided into a corner spot where it huddled down and went into a standby-mode while Fred started loosening his gear. He nodded towards the kitchen. "There's some freeze-dried coffee in the upper left cabinet. Help yourselves." Coyt complied silently whereas Rawson simply seated himself at a simplistic foldable chair. Fred rummaged through his backpack nearby but paused to look at Rawson. He shook his head slightly and muttered something in his native language before throwing a packet onto Rawson's lap.

Surprised, Rawson straightened up and read the label: Orifo - Chocolate Pudding, 150g.

Puzzled, Rawson turned towards Fred who was still looking down into his backpack. "Just add some water directly into the packet and stir it for a couple of minutes."

Rawson practically jumped out of the chair and rushed to the kitchen. A faint smile was briefly on Fred's face before he returned to his usual, neutral, expression.

 

[Hard Boiled]

The only words that had escaped Charlie's bleeding mouth on the way home were to tell Teddy to "sit back in the stretcher before I break your other leg", to no avail.

He checked on both of his patients every ten minutes or so: Leon had very little coherent to say. Teddy, naturally, had too much to say, but Charlie assumed it was from the pain. At least he was alert and oriented.

The stretchers he'd rigged up worked beautifully with the dronkey: One real metal scoop stretcher, and a makeshift one made of two sticks and a blanket. With the equipment cleared off of the top, they fit right on.


Charlie payed little attention to the latest G-woman joining the lineup. Right now, she was nothing more than another stop between getting his patients to a higher level of care. Unlike everyone else, apparently, he was still on the clock, and had places to be.

Nodding, Fred looked at Charlie. "I'll help transport your people the last stretch before I break off."

"Thanks, it's up two floors..." His voice trailed off as he turned and found that one of his patients had just up and vanished. "What the fuck, where did Teddy go?" He paced a few steps in each direction with a hand on his head, letting out an exasperated sigh as he stormed back to the drone. If he wasn't dead by the time they found him, Charlie would be incredibly surprised if he would ever walk again.

Okay, no matter. Best not to worry about hypotheticals and get the one patient he still had to the hospital.


After spending time in the infirmary, and with a great amount of effort and suffering, Leon had managed to drag himself back to his little home buried in the back room of a Hot Topic with the help of the doctor. He could barely keep his eyes open, not out of restlessness, but because the light was too bright. His head pounding unapologetically and with such forceful violence. It felt as if he was being hit in the head with a baseball bat over and over again.

Their home was made up of two rooms, what was used to be a storage room, break room, and a bathroom. The break room was the first room upon opening the back door of the store. It was somewhat dark, so by muscle memory Leon felt for one of the lamps against the wall. Thankfully it was the warmest dimly lit lamp in there, so it didn’t aggravate his headache further. With more light in the room did it become clear of what was inside.

It was rather cluttered- but in a neat manner. The room was well lived in, made with the intentions of it being a warm and safe home for their family even in such chaos. Shelves lined the walls full of books he and his wife had gathered over the years, along with trinkets, and other miscellaneous items from their time outside the mall. Potted plants sat on top of the shelf, along with picture frames holding memories of better times. A wooden desk pressed into the corner covered in paperwork, unfinished books, and leather bound journals he was still putting together. Leon studied there alone when the girls were asleep, otherwise Maddy would be sitting in his lap watching him work. His wife was a seamstress, so her sewing machine remained there in the corner of the desk. It had not been touched since she passed, all of her things still in its place like she left it.

In the corner opposite of Leon’s desk was a special space made just for Camille where she would “study”. It consisted of a little bean bag couch, her own pile of books, bags of nail polish, stuffed animals and dolls, and a toy kitchen stove and sink. It was surprisingly kept rather organized, as Camille liked it that way.

In his foggy state of mind, he couldn’t recall if Charlie had ever stepped foot in their home. It feels like he did at some point. Leon aggressively dug around in his bag in search of the key into the storage room now that he felt his stomach turn with nausea. He hadn’t stopped feeling sick since hitting his head, and would go through bouts of dry heaving with no food in his stomach.

Finally he found his keys, and with a trembling hand managed to unlock the door.
“Make yourself at home..” Leon coughed, which only made his headache worse. It began to feel unbearable, which he assumed was from all the movements he was doing now compared to his immobile and sedative state from earlier. Leon blindly felt around the room for the light switch, it took a moment- switching it on once he found it.

With his eyes closed, Leon gestured to a cupboard and pantries against the wall, “Water and food is in there if you want..” He mumbled hoarsely, already feeling a ball well up in his throat. What was once a storage room, was made into their bedroom. A large mattress was on the floor with multiple blankets, quilts, and pillows placed there. A sheet was suspended from the ceiling draped over the bed like a canopy.

Charlie had followed him closely the whole way home, backing him up in case he fell. Luckily he didn't, or else Charlie would've likely just been crushed.
"Thanks, pal. Why don't we sit?" He eased Leon into bed, covering him with a blanket. "There we go."

Once Leon was all nice and cozy, Charlie finally sat down himself after God knows how long. The immediate burning relief that shot up his legs pulled a deep groan from his stomach, releasing all the air from his lungs. Unlike the NUSA drones and cracked-out Mall dwellers, Charlie wasn't getting any younger. He was thirty-six, and up until he was constantly running for his life, he hadn't run a mile since middle school gym class.

"How 'bout this," he started. "I'll go get the babies. You stay here and try not to think too hard, yeah?"

Leon rubbed the inevitable sleep out from his eyes, trying his best to ignore the nausea that came on with the vertigo he was experiencing- even while laying still. In between the sound of his heart beating in his head.. did he try his best to concentrate on what Charlie was saying to him. He still sounded foggy but clear enough to understand. “Wait..” Leon groaned as he squinted in thought, trying to remember exactly what the plan was upon coming back.

“They should know I’m back by now.” His speech slurred, and he could feel his eyes drifting closed. It was a fight to keep them open. It had been a while since he returned to the Mall, so he was sure their caretakers had been notified.

"Oh, good."

“You don’t have to stay.” He was somewhat sure he could care for his daughters in such a shape. Mostly, he just didn’t want to bother Charlie anymore than he already has.

"Mm, they'll just throw my nose back on the grindstone." They being the severity of his patients' conditions. Really, he only had few direct superiors, he could slack off as much as he wanted, it might just cost them lives. He barely had time to check in with anyone after he got back, he'd run a few tests on Leon to make sure there was no intracranial bleeding, and gotten the Hell out of there.
"Mind if I stick around a minute, actually? I gotta get this hitchhiker out." Without waiting for an answer, Charlie kicked off his boot and overturned it, a small rock collection tumbling out.

Leon narrowed his eyes at the sound of the rock falling onto the floor. Even such a vague sound caused his head to throb intensely. Seeing Charlie removing his shoe did it remind him to take his off as well, considering he had been stomping through mud for days. He kicked them off into the corner and sluggishly undid the buttons of his shirt covered in blood onto the floor beside him. The effort into getting himself a little underdressed was unbearable.

Leon slowly touched the back of his head to feel for where he hit his head, but hesitated once he felt the large amount of dry blood in his hair. He cursed under his breath- concerned if his children saw him in this condition it would be upsetting for them. After all, he looked like a victim of a gunshot wound.

“Charlie… could you do me a favor?” Leon muttered as he gestured to the bathroom door to the left side of the doctor.

“In the bathroom there is a bucket.” It took literally all his power to speak at this point due to the burning pain. “I want water to get blood off me..” Leon coughed, and immediately placed his hand over his mouth once he felt the need to gag again.

Charlie sighed, having just sat down.
"No problem," he stood himself up with his hands on his knees, fetching the bucket as requested. Luckily it was only half empty, otherwise he'd have to go all the way to the nearest water pump in the repurposed men's room across the first floor.

He returned to Leon's bedside and, without asking permission, began cleaning the blood out of his hair with a drenched towel. An inch above his left ear was an adhesive 2x4 bandage, underneath which were ten stitches to close up his little noggin bonk.
"Sorry." He apologized as Leon winced, sitting crisscross behind him.

"I suppose now is the time to ask... What the Hell's wrong with you, coming with us?" He scolded without changing his tone of voice. "You got two little girls, you don't need to be out adventuring and getting yourself killed too."

“Money has been tight.” Leon sighed heavily, “Having two young kids costs a lot around here.” It was definitely easier to afford living here when his wife was still alive, and they worked on two different wages. She would work as a seamstress and watched the girls, while he went out and did heavy lifting jobs where he was needed. He didn’t have to worry about his children being safe or not, because they were always with Ellie. But now, he was picky on the jobs being offered because he had to bring along his girls to keep an eye on them.

He also couldn’t afford to pay for child-care everyday, so there wasn’t much of a choice. So an opportunity given to him where he could help out, and his children would be cared for, felt reasonable at the time. He thought it had to be easier than half of the things he did around here anyways. Which unfortunately made things worse- considering this was going to knock him out of commission until he was somewhat “recovered”. But that was unlikely, it was either work per usual, uncomfortable and wounded, or not being able to feed his children.

“How long do you think till I can work again?” Leon asked hoarsely and rubbed at his eyes with a shaky hand. He was already beginning to feel panicked about the whereabouts of his children, in between feeling so violently ill and exhausted. There was no time to sit around with a toddler and a baby who relied on their father to care for them.

"Doing this shit? Never." Charlie shook his head as he soaked more water into the towel. "If it was up to me, you'd be working nine-to-five in maintenance, not rubbing shoulders with zombies and government agents." He told him as both his doctor and his friend. It was unrealistic for everybody who had loved ones to be out of harm's way, but he didn't think he could bear explaining to Camille and Maddy that daddy wasn't coming to dinner either.

"...Take it easy for a week." He finally answered. "You'll be good as new in two, the stitches will start falling out on their own. Clean it and change the bandage once a day and whenever it gets wet or dirty. Got it?"

“How’s one day work instead?"

"It doesn't. Bedrest 'til Friday, doctor's orders."

Leon chuckled at the thought of sitting around all day in bed recovering. He promised a couple folks once he got back from the mission he’d do some work for them too. It would look bad if he bailed on them, and would be unlikely he’d be hired again for calling out of a job.

The sound of sudden rustling around outside his home caught his attention. Leon could hear mumbling and an attempt to unlock the finicky door. Once the first door was opened, he could hear the voices more clearly. “Remember what I said about being calm and gentle with Daddy?” Thea sternly said, not wanting to unleash the hyper Camille into Leon’s wounded custody again without having her somewhat calm. Leon could hear a chirp in response, followed by a faint knocking on the door.

“Come in..” Leon exclaimed with what little energy he had left, and was already prepared for the change in atmosphere. The door slightly slid open, before Camille immediately poked her little head inside. Her attention was caught onto Charlie first, and then to her father weakly waving at her. Leon catching sight of his oldest daughter brought a wave of relief over him.

“Hi Charlie!” Camille yelped, not paying her father any mind. “Be polite Camille. It’s Doctor Charlie.” Leon sighed, already going into parent mode. Charlie's last name was difficult for the toddler to pronounce, so he stuck to teaching Camille his first name. Camille of course ignored her father and hopped around her bedroom in search of her blankets to give to Charlie, assuming this was going to be a sleepover.

Charlie dropped the towel back into the bucket, standing to greet them.
"Good morning, Camille." He smiled down at her for the first time since his card game with Sybille, his monotonous expression returning once he looked to Thea.

“Hello..” Thea softly greeted as she stepped into the bedroom with the sleepy baby on her hip. Leon was shocked to see Maddy so calm, especially in someone's else's arms she was unfamiliar with. He could tell she had just woken up by the way her hair was all splayed around. “Good morning Mop..” Leon smiled faintly. The baby quickly turned her head around to face her disheveled father, and In only a matter of seconds seeing Leon did she break into shrill cries. He felt like he was going to faint from the excruciating panging in his head.

Thea caught wind of this, but the choice wasn’t hers to make as Maddy aggressively reached out for him- almost falling out of her arms. Leon pushed himself forward to bring the safety hazard of a baby into his arms, even in the amount of pain he was in. It couldn’t be helped. Maddy was extremely attached to Leon, so this must’ve been the greatest relief of her life to see him again. Leon by muscle memory rubbed her back to try and calm her down, but the feeling he was going to faint was becoming overwhelming. He could feel his eyes begin to shut. Thea nodded her head with a uncomfortable smile at the doctor. He wouldn’t be able to hear her anyways since it was so loud inside such a small room.

Charlie simply waved back. Home at last.

gouache

 

[spottednewt]

“–I reckon they knew we were coming, sir,” The darkness of Liberty’s words belied her light an airy voice, complete with just a little bit of southern twang that made her sound like she belonged in a pre-apoc diner somewhere; calling him darlin’ and refilling his coffee cup. Maybe - in another life - that’s where she would be; never having gotten into sugaring and with a business degree that might hang on her wall like a $60,000 piece of abstract art. Although her battered face was still angry red, the woman who sat before McCarthy looked even less like she belonged in military uniform than she did when she was delirious and perched atop a fence post like some kind of heavily-armed pigeon. –But wasn’t that the usual these days; NUSA soldiers that looked like they belonged anywhere else?

Brain still foggy, but determined to put her best foot forward, she pressed her eyes shut and shook her head lightly as she made for the seat he’d offered her. Liberty was getting ahead of herself and desperately needed a reset. While she did feel like a whole new person after a shower and a bowl of soup, the last few weeks had taken a toll on her that wouldn’t be undone in an afternoon.

“The caravan,” She started again, more sure of herself. “We had three vehicles that just couldn’t seem to keep their tires on right and some mighty awful luck navigatin’ with an outdated map,” As she continued on, her eyebrows knitted closer and closer together; half in suspicion, and half to keep her thought in order as they threatened to float away from her. “We had awful bad luck, basically the entire journey. I’m not even sure how outdated that map could’ve been, but everywhere we turned was another roadblock.” Gripping the arms of the chair tightly, she leaned back to finally make eye contact with the man in front of her

“We don’t see a lot of hordes in the East these days, but just before we made it to the halfway point, we find this clearing that looks to be our only way through without two days worth of back-tracking. A horde came at us from the east, and then another one not 15 minutes later from the west. Now,” Liberty paused, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. “It was a big company –two squadrons in one, so navigation and scouting duties were being shared and I didn’t mind any of that because I was up in the crow’s nest picking off the amblers as we went.” In that moment, she felt regretful for wasting ammunition on dead ones that were hardly a threat; but with the surplus of ammunition they were hauling, one less set of gnashing teeth was one less risk.

“The first flock was no issue, the second was mighty inconvenient, but we were exhausted before long because they just kept coming, and minus the boot that gave me this shiner, that’s all I remember,” With a quick gesture to her swollen eye, she gave an angry shake of her head. “It was issued. Either one of ours, or someone extremely stealthy who picked up some of our boots along their way.” Anger manifested into a knot in her throat as she straightened a little, trying to keep her composure as she continued. While Liberty had her suspicions, she kept the bias to herself.

“When I woke up, I was fourteen miles north on the side of the highway; banged up and alone. I’d credit someone with leaving me my gun and my pack - but I think I just fell off the roof as they drove down the street,” she relayed the information more slowly in that moment, stalling less because she was hiding the verdict from him, and more because she’d rather not say it out loud. Things seemed more real when you said them out loud.

“When I found the clearing again, I found bullet casings on the hills, and only two of our own among the dead. –I’m sorry to say that they were already gone, but didn’t quite have the get up and go to, well, get up and go,” By the end of her thought, her voice strained with effort to keep it light, although her expression was too empty to carry the endeavor. If she was honest, the pain in her chest ached less for the friends that she could put down herself, and more for the ones that she couldn’t.

Vudukudu

 

[Vudukudu]

Ryan doesn't interject, scribbling away a few notes on a post-it note as she details the incident, and he keeps a sympathetic frown on throughout it that only falters when she refers to her unit as a squadron. Must have been trained by some air force desk jockey who survived the outbreak and found himself assigned to a more useful force. You could tell a lot about someone's experience in the NUSA military by the little things that came about from a lack of standardized regulations and the nonchalance that the apocalypse breeds among survivors.

When she finishes, he carefully puts the cap back on his pen and sets it down on the desk. "I'm sorry." He opens. "I was in Cleveland. Know what its like to lose a lot of your own and not get the chance to give them peace." He goes on, letting it hang in the air a moment before he continues. His expression turns a little more business-like.

"When I put in the request for that convoy I thought I needed those supplies and those men. I don't blame you at all for what happened, but to be frank the situation out here isn't ideal. Given your unwillingness to accuse your peers of a betrayal in the heat of panic, I will do it for you. I don't need cowards, I don't need trigger fingers that flinch, and I don't need traitors. What I do need is human cockroaches who don't know how to die." He says, gesturing vaguely at her before reaching for his drink and taking a long sip. His other hand digs into a drawer before producing a pile of what passes for currency at the Mall before sliding it across the desk.

"The locals are hospitable if you have money. Go do whatever you need to do to get yourself in order, I recommend the mini-golf place and avoiding the crap they call food. And stay away from any of the maintenance hallways if you're not trying to get stabbed. You've got today and tomorrow to be back in working condition." Ryan explains, pointing at the analog clock ticking away on the wall behind him before pointing at the door behind her.

"You've also got until then to come up with a better nickname, because I'm pretty set on Roach at this point." He says with a smirk and a soft chuckle, aiming to make it clear he means it as a sort of endearment. "You're dismissed, Liberty. Sure you'd rather spend your leave doing something besides keeping me company while I plot how to retake the West."

 

[Aeris]

queendilettante

Ashlynn stood awkwardly outside Raney Day Mechanics. She tugged nervously at the emerald stone around her neck, debating on whether or not now was a good time to enter. In the ten minutes she had been standing there, she’d counted exactly three people- two of which had been leaving the shop. That didn't mean Sybille and Ollie didn’t have their hands full of course. However, if Ash didn’t do this now, she was certain she wouldn’t be able to work up the nerve later.

With her mind finally made up, Ashlynn entered the shop. She said a quick hello to Ollie as she passed him, stopping briefly to scan the shop for Sybille. It didn’t take long for her to spot Sybille’s pink hair poking out from behind a car.

“Hey Sybille!” Ash called out in what she hoped was a cheery voice. “I just wanted to say thank you for everything yesterday , It meant a lot.”

Sybille glanced up at Ashlynn, wrench in oil covered hands. Grabbing the dirty rag from its place draped upon her shoulder, she wiped as much of the oil off as she reasonably could and waved at the young woman that came to visit her. "Hey, Ash," she mumbled, "hope you've been hanging in there okay." Sybille threw the rag back over her shoulder and stepped over Santa to come around to the main part of the shop. "I'm not sure what you're thanking me for, if I'm being honest with you."

“Oh well,” Ash felt her face redden slightly. It made sense Sybille wouldn’t have realized what she had done, not with everything else that had also been going on. “...for letting me help out. I know I haven’t exactly been the most helpful…”She let the sentence drop. If she kept going who knows what would spill out of her mouth.


Sybille caught on to what Ash was saying and smiled at her as reassuringly as she could. "You've been plenty helpful, Ash. I wouldn't have asked you to help if I didn't think you could do it." Sybille continued smiling and stood still awkwardly. Eight years of the apocalypse did a number on her ability to remember social expectations. Would a hug be appropriate? Ash was clearly embarrassed, but did Sybille know her well enough to do such a thing? Gah.

Sybille continued to stand in silence, becoming painfully aware of the building awkward tension the longer it lasted without a follow-up. Luckily for both of them, Santa got up and started licking Ash, which provided a perfect excuse to change the subject. "Oh, yeah, I've been in here for a while and should probably take him out..." She trailed off. "Would you, uh, like to walk with me?" She didn't really know if Ash would want to do that - truth be told she didn't even know if she wanted to do that - but it felt like the younger woman had more to say.

"Hello Santa," Ashlynn crouched down to scratch Santa behind his ears. Back when they had lived in England, she had begged her parents for a pet to keep her company. It had never happened of course, between lessons and her parents jobs they wouldn't have had the time for a pet. She had planned to try again once they were situated in the states...but everyone knew how well that panned out.

She directed her attention back up to Sybille, who had offered for her to join them on a walk. Ash couldn't help but notice Sybille sounded unsure with the invitation- which made sense. They hadn't exactly spoken a whole lot or anything since she was invited into the group. And, before that, they'd exchanged at most simple "hello".

Ashlynn offered a friendly smile as she rose to her feet, "A walk sounds nice, thank you."

Sybille smiled in response to Ash and walked out the garage door wordlessly. With Santa on her heels, him having realized it was time for a walk, she headed to the next most inner gate in order to walk across to the wooded section on the other side of the property.

"How long did you live in England, for?" Sybille asked, finally breaking the long building silence. "I've never been, but I spent my summers in Lyon as a kid."


Ashlynn followed the two out of the shop and to the wooded area. She couldn't help but smile at Sybille's question. Nowadays she tried not to remember the past, it was better that way. But sometimes the memories were welcomed, like now. She paused for a moment to reach into her backpack, pulling out an old photo from right before they had moved. .

It had been her favorite picture, taken right after a ballet performance of Cinderella. Her parents were on either side of her, all three smiling brightly. The Ash then was content with her life, dressed as a princess. Her heart ached at the memories, how she wished she could be back in that moment.

"Here," She handed the photo to Sybille, "I was born in Marlow, we lived there until I was thirteen? We'd only been in America for a couple years when this started," In the two years she had lived here, Ashlynn's accent had become less heavy. Embarrassingly enough, Ash forgot she had an accent some days. "We moved here for my fathers work, honestly, it was supposed to be temporary- a few years at the most." She had been excited to hear they would one day return to her hometown. Sure, she'd made friends and established a life in Whitechapel, but no matter how she looked at it, it hadn't been home.

"I heard Lyon was nice, we always stayed in England when we went on holidays."

Thirteen. Sybille had a tendency to forget how young much of her group had been at the up to and during the Crash. Hell, as is, she was barely an adult herself when it happened. Ashlynn had hardly known life and yet here she was, showing Sybille pictures of a presumably long dead family. So it goes.

Sybille looked ahead and threw a rope toy a hundred feet or so in front of her and the younger woman for Santa to chase. Expectedly, he immediately sprinted after it. Sybille handed the picture back to Ashlynn; it was hard to look at. "You all look very happy." She gave her a weak smile and turned her head away from Ashlynn. Santa had just caught up with the rope and was thrashing about in the weeds with it. "I was on my honeymoon when this all started," she blurted out before she could catch herself.

"You're married?" Ashlynn regretted the words the moment they had left her mouth. The past wasn't just a sensitive topic for her, everyone had people they left behind. There were people that didn't even get five minutes with their loved ones when the world ended. She should be grateful for the five years she got to spend with her parents before they vanished.

"I'm sorry," She was silent for several seconds, just watching Santa play in the grass as she struggled to find the right words. "You don't have to say anything..." Ashlynn tucked the photo safely into her bag once again.

"No, it's okay," Sybille said, offering the first genuine smile of the walk. "Maybe she's still out there somewhere," her voice trailed off. Santa came hopping back to them and she scratched him behind the ears. "Wanna head back?" she asked, not looking up.

Ashlynn's heart ached at Sybille's words. It was wishful thinking, but at the end of the day that was all you could do. Just hope that the people you loved the most were still alive in this awful world.

"Yeah," She smiled, "Let's head back."

Ash trailed behind Sybille as they made their way back to the shop. Part of her wanted to ask more questions, after all, she didn't know a whole lot about their leader. But the other part of her- the one she decided to listen too, knew it was not her place to ask. Should Sybille ever decide to open up about her past, Ashlynn would be there. Being a shoulder to lean on was the least she could do after all the help Sybille had been for her.