Infection

(This thread is closed for now open only to Tseranc, Thepiercedone, and Jewelskye, until we have need of others to join the storyline. Feel free to read along)

It was a sunny day in DC, August the 6th, 2007, not a cloud in sight. Things are continuing on as normal... well... as normal as Washington, D.C. can get anyway. As usual, an important military meeting at the Pentagon attracted the attention of most every political activist on the eastern coast and outside the grounds, people crowd around, shouting and waving signs protesting various things.

And despite all the hubub and ruckus, life continues on as normal. People go to work, school, museums... Overall, they ignore the supposed important goings on of their government and military. After all... everything the government did, they claimed was important. And so very little of it did people ever actually notice. So little of it seemed to have the desired effect on the people of the city.

Cars still jam the roads, people still drive far too aggressively to be safe... A day in the life of anyone living in Washington, D.C.

Character Sheets

Name:
Age:
Height:
Weight:
Hair:
Eyes:
Build:

Personality:
(how your character acts, feels, interacts with people. DETAILS please)

Background:
(this doesn't have to be a novel, but make it as descriptive as possible. Everything from where they were born to how they managed to survive up to the point of the game starting)

Strengths:
(list any character strengths here, at a maximum of five)

Weaknesses:
(for every one strength you character has, list TWO weaknesses)

Next to each strength, rate them on a 1-3 basis, 3 being the most practiced/used strength, and 1 being the weakest
Next to each weakness, rate them on a 1-5 basis, 5 being the most severe weakness and 1 being the least severe.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Name: Evelyn ("Eve" or "Lyn") Carter
Age: 19
Height: 5'1"
Weight: 105 lb.
Hair: Flaming Auburn, ringlet curls to her shoulder blades
Eyes: Pale blue, almost icy looking
Build: Petite but curvy, almost seems fragile in some ways despite the slightly athletic tone her body holds if you pay attention.

Personality/Background:
Evelyn was never exactly what you would call a "normal girl". From day one, she seemed to have more male friends than female, and never enjoyed things like dolls and playing dress up. Quite the contrary, she was actually far more interested in playing army and cops and robbers with the neighborhood boys. As she got older, little changed. She stopped playing army and started picking up football and a myriad of other sports, much to her parent's chagrin. They'd wanted her to be their little angel, and while she was a good student and a wonderful child, she just wasn't what they'd had in mind.

From an early age, she showed a deep interest in literature, music, and the arts in general. Just as talented with a pencil and paper as she was with a guitar or various other instruments, very little in that area held her away from success.

Despite their difference in opinions, she and her parents got along well. She kept her grades up and planned for college, they saw to it she had an upbringing that most would envy. Despite her father being an engineer and designing planes for a living, the man knew a lot about cars and engines in general. He passed this knowledge along to his daughter, who ended up showing a level of mechanical genius that even he had to gawk at.

When it came time for her to graduate high school, she'd received a full ride scholarship to a college near DC, and her parents again saw to it she had the best they could give her. Instead of forcing her to live in a dorm, they saw to it she had her own apartment, under the agreement that she kept the place clean and her grades up. She never lacked for anything, and to this day, in her sophomore year of school, she's living quite the happy existence.

Strengths:
Mechanically inclined (3)
Athletic (2)
Adept Driver (3)

Weaknesses:
Chronic Nightmares (5)
Caffeine Addiction (4)
Forgetful (2)
Phobia-level fear of needles (3)
Emotionally unstable at times (2)
Allergic to most insect venoms(bees, hornets, etc) (1)

*~*~*~*~*~*

Name: Michael (Mike to friends, Michael to his mom who he calls once a month, Mikey to someone who wants shot) O'Malley
Age: 24
Height: 5'9”
Weight: 160
Hair: Buzzed light brown
Eyes: blue
Build: athletic, narrow shoulders. In great shape from both Army PT, and all the extra duties he 'earns'

Personality:
Michael has this issue with authority, that leads him to butt heads with pretty much any other human drawing breath. The only times in life he's been willingly accommodating is when he thinks he's making a move on a girl. But even those rare occasions are typically short lived, thanks to his complete lack of tact. He'd still be a virgin if it hadn't been for alcohol.

But it's not that he's a bad guy, just extremely hard to get along with. He's got his morals and standards, just no filter between thinking something and saying it. He's actually fairly well read for a 'simple grunt' and mocks his less intellectual brothers in arms. He's the first to stand up for someone else when they need it, be it in a bar fight or the Company Commander's office.

In keeping with his heritage, he enjoys far more then his fair share of beer; usually the darker, heavier stuff. Oddly enough, once buzzed he forgets the chip on his shoulder and slows down on offending everyone. However, if taken too far, or certain combinations of hard liquor, and he's just looking for a fight.


Background:
Growing up in a small town, and frequently finding trouble, he and a judge decided that the Army would help everyone by getting him the hell out of dodge. He barely bit his tongue enough to graduate basic training, and enjoyed most of his time there at extra duties; a pattern that followed him throughout his carrier. He made Specialist twice already, being bright enough to pass the test, but always found someone to piss off enough to take it away again. If he weren't exceedingly good at his job, the Army would have booted his ass out long ago. But as it was good Comm. Soldiers were hard to come by, especially ones that could set up a full network, including satellite link, by himself in less then a day.

Current:
Recently pulled from his unit to serve as the communications specialist for Brigadier General John Fields while he attends a conference at the Pentagon. This 'extra' duty while an honor for some brown nosing lackies, is pure hell for a Soldier that prefers field work.

Strengths:
Computers/Comm. Equipment (3)
Firearms (1 random, 2 military issue)
Land Navigation(2)
Reading (2)

Weaknesses:
Failure to see the big picture (3)
Failure to keep consequences in mind when speaking (4)
Frequently pisses people off (4)
hangovers (2)
Over eager to act (2)
Easily distracted by women (2)
Camel Spiders unnerve the hell out of him – he even shot one with his M-16 once, earning himself a great deal of push-ups and miles to run (4)
Caffeine Junkie, like any good comm guy (3)

*~*~*~*~*~*

Name: DaKota McMurray
Age: 25
Height: 6'3
Weight: 215 lbs
Hair: Black
Eyes: Grey/Silver in the right light
Build: Muscular, but not like bodybuilder eww muscular

Personality:
DaKota's a pretty easy going guy. He knows how to get shit done when it calls for him to take action. His military training has had a huge effect on his personality in how he approaches certain tasks. he's very straight-forward...blunt. He's been with what some may say numerous women, but he was the one getting treated like shit in those relationships. Never had a true meaningful relationship.

Background:
DaKota James McMurray was born the only boy in a family of 4. He was the baby too but growing up the youngest didn't make him weak. Thanks to his father, he and his sisters received a military upbringing. His father was very very strict, but did have a soft side for his only son sometimes. He used to get DaKota out of school and bring him to baseball games, football games...anything to bond with his only boy. After high school, DaKota appeased his father and went to VMI (Virginia Military Institute) where he proceeded to join the Marines. He ended up getting sent to DC for some additional training in Intelligence.

Strengths:
Level Headed (3)
Dead Eye Aim (3)
Focused (2)

Weaknesses:
Overprotective (4)
Stubborn (5)
Afraid of Spiders (3)
Highly Moralistic (2)
Easily Intoxicated (3)
Hot Temper (5)

“Oh like hell that would work. You went to college right, that's still the only requirement besides waisting air to be an officer right?”

“Yes I graduated from......now wait a minute soldier, you can't talk to me like that!”

“Little late for that, just kindly step aside and go push a pencil around and let me unfuck what you did to my sat link.”


“You're going on report for this Specialist O'Malley! Disrespecting an officer!”

Brushing by the lieutenant, laughing, he comments in passing, “Man they won't even see something written by a lieuy in my record, maybe you wanna go find someone with a rank that matters to write that for ya; either way, just stay clear of my equipment.”

Damned officers thinking that some liberal arts degree and a few weeks of being yelled at made them better then those that did the job. But on reaching the equipment rack, he quickly was muttering about the mess this LT had made of his gear, and set himself to fixing it.

No one was talking about what this conference was about, but it required a lot of secure communications to some frigging remote places. Hell he wasn't even given all the information on some of the satellites he was hitting, just coordinates and the specifics for connecting to them – birds he'd never even heard of.

Within 15 minutes everything was fixed, and data was flowing like mad, but nothing was being recorded or stored anywhere; another oddity. Whatever this chat among big wigs was about, it was either really big, or some hugely retarded exercise.

About 15 minutes later mentally impaired lieutenant returned, with a major in tow. “Found a friend i see?”

“You can stand and address an officer properly Soldier.”

“I could, or I could say that you are both a danger to this equipment, which I have orders from General Fields himself to keep running at all costs. I think that means I can shoot you.” He looks down to the M9 strapped to his thigh, “Hey look at that, they even gave me a gun, must be a sign...”

He chuckled as the two scampered away, promising to speak to the general about this. Little did they know that the only reason he hadn't gone postal in this assignment was that Gen. Fields was actually a good guy. He had told Mike not to take shit from anyone, and to keep the comm links open. He was out grabbing coffee when the LT had screwed with things. Oh to be a fly on the wall when the general came down on those two for that!

"Mutherfucker...." DaKota rolled his eyes and braced himself against the steering wheel of his rented car. "Damn, y'all need ta fuckin' learn how ta drive!!" He was on his way to the Pentagon to start some form of Intelligence training....or at least that's what he was told. "Fuckin' protesters..." He muttered, his voice carrying a soft southern accent.

Cpl DaKota J. McMurray leaned his head back a little on the seat. It felt like it was going to take him forever to get to where he had to be! The GPS system that came with the car told him he was 10 min away, but with the traffic going on and the damn protesters all in the way, it had taken him 20 minutes to get 2 feet so far. He quite possibly was going to be late! And a McMurray was never late...according to his father at least.

DaKota came from a military family, his father having been in the Marine Corp his whole life and held the rank of General Lloyd D. McMurray. It only seemed right that his only son would join the Marines as well. General McMurray was supposed to have met his son here in Washington DC on this very day, but he was in the hospital, recovering from surgery.

"Finally!!!" He almost danced for joy in his seat as traffic started moving again and a police officer ahead had seen the tag on DaKota's car, showing him as being military and waved him by. "Ah'm not gonna be late after all!!"

Evelyn leaned over the car that had been brought into the shop where she'd taken up a part time job and was allowed to hang out on days she didn't have classes. Today just so happened to be one of those days. It was just a routine job with this one... Oil change, spark plugs needed to be replaced, and the fluids needed to be topped off.

No big deal, right? WRONG. They'd popped the hood on the old junker and she'd wanted to cry. There was dry rot in some places, rust in others... and to be honest, once she and the boys had gotten a good look at the machine, they wondered how on earth it was able to run at all.

After a few minutes of looking the thing over, she finally stood up, making a sound of disgust. Wiping her greasy hands on her coveralls, she shook her head and moved to the office. "She's shot, Jimmy... they're better off buying a new damn car than trying to fix this one," she called back to the head mechanic. "If you don't believe me, come see for yourself."

Her coveralls were tied around her waist, and as she could just imagine the way the phone call to that particular customer was going to go, she smirked and found her eyes moving to the Louisville Slugger hanging on the wall with the words "Complaint Department" carved into a wood board above it.

GM Post

It happens rather quietly, though quickly, and before anyone could identify what was happening, there is mass panic among the protesters. It would seem it's gone from a relatively peaceful(if not obnoxiously loud) protest to a full blown riot. The only difference is... people aren't just fighting against those struggling to keep them under control.

The crowd seems to be... fighting itself. People scream, some struggle amongst themselves, and still others try to run in whatever direction is convenient. Just as DaKota is beginning to pull through the traffic, skirting around the crowd, two struggling men are thrown against his car. There is blood, and lots of it, but its impossible to see which of the men it's coming from.

The police struggle to try and get things under control, but nothing seems to be working. Not even opening fire on people.

Similar events seem to be happening all over the place, and panicked broad casts are coming over radio and television alike. As DaKota is in his car, he hears a broadcast that unexplained violence seems to be occurring in many major parts of the city.

Inside, away from most of the action, Michael is greeted by a panicked looking private. He rushed in, gives a less than formal salute, eyes wide and out of breath. "The command's been handed down that all contacts are to be shut down immediately, sir. We are under attack."

His words are shaky, like he's not sure that's exactly what he's supposed to say, but the meaning is all the same.

DaKota had been jamming out to the radio station when his car had finally started to move, but stopped as he heard the rushed broadcast interrupt his jam session. He looked up, seeing most of the protesters rushing past his car. DaKota slammed on his brakes when the two men were thrown against the rental. "What th' fuck, y'all!??!?! It's a god damn rental!!" "Wait." He thought to himself as he took in more scenery around him. "Jus' what in the hell is goin' on 'round here?"

His hand slide over his BDU jacket to underneath it where his .45 mil handgun rest in a shoulder holster. DaKota got out of the car, his brow furrowed with confusion. Pulling the gun out, he held it pointed down as he walked through the crowds.

He tried to stop a couple of the civilians that were running past him, but none of them stopped.

“All contact's Private, pull your diaper up and tell me what's going on.”

After a few minutes muddling through the PFC's stuttering, he gets the idea that they want all the comm links down, and like yesterday. Which is pretty freaking odd. He'd been told more times then he could recall to get them up, or keep them up, but never to quickly tear them down. Never.

Still, after getting further assurances from the PFC, he walked over to his set up and simply unplugged the three surge protectors that all his equipment was connected to. The humming of the computers and various electronic devices died off. “I've got your name there Private, and if someone comes after my ass for this, I'm throwing you under the bus. In fact, lets dig up some sorry ass officer that knows what's going on here.”

But stepping out into the hall several MP's ran buy, M-16's at the ready, which was well beyond fucking strange in the pentagon. Here everything was shiny, and except for a small garrison of actual MP's, ceremonial. But the panicked feeling was not lost on him, and he drew the M9 from his thigh, and told to PFC to direct him toward whoever he'd gotten his orders from.

Evelyn was in the garage when all hell broke loose. It didn't seem like any big deal at first, the radio on the wall just seemed to squawk endlessly on about violence in the streets. "Just another damn riot," she muttered under her breath, shaking her head as one of the boys nodded in agreement. A few moments later though, as she was standing in the front office sipping at a soda from the machine in the back, the door swung open.

A woman, bloodied and bruised looking, stumbled through it, more leaning against it until it opened than actually pushing it open like any normal person would do. Evelyn arched a brow as her boss rushed around to see if the woman was alright.

"You OK, ma'am? Been mugged, want me to call the cops?"

Evelyn, for her part, just left him too it and walked into the garage. A second after the door closed behind her though, a blood curdling scream met her ears. Picking up the tire iron that had been laying off to the side for particularly difficult jobs, she turned and rushed back into the office to find the woman standing over her boss.

There was blood everywhere, and the woman grunted, turning and settling her eyes on Evelyn. As she started toward her, though, Evelyn backed. up. "Back the fuck off, lady," she warned, brandishing the long metal rod. When this seemed to have no effect, the woman charged at her, hands outstretched.

Evelyn's breath caught in her throat and her next action was pure instinct. Bringing the metal up, she swung it hard and fast at the woman, catching her in the temple.

The woman fell in a heap, and Evelyn stumbled back against the wall, panting and looking at the scene wide-eyed, unsure what to do next.

GM Post

DaKota:

As you climb from the car, you notice that there is a lot more than a riot going on. There's violence every where you look. Some people seem to be running, terrified, while others either seem to be chasing them, or attacking those who chose to remain stationary.

All too soon as you take in this realization, it would appear that someone intends to sweep you into the violence, apparently not caring about the gun at your side. "Look out!" a man shouts, but not before you're charged at by a man, covered in blood and bruises and looking far too... sickly, to have the strength he's using. He bears his teeth, almost growing, hands reaching up to grab at you, making moves like he intends to bite you.

Michael:

The Private, at your order, leads you immediately down the hall and into the conference room you'd earlier been told you were not allowed to enter. Once inside, you find yourself in the presence of such people as the Secretary of Defense, the President, several Generals, and various other people of importance.

The General, Secretary, and President seem to be in a quiet, but tense discussion, and worry is written over the President's face. The General, meanwhile, seems almost angry. The Private leads you over and immediately salutes, standing at attention while the three men turn to face you both.

"I take it everything has been cut off, soldier?" the General asks, a frown on his face.

DaKota looked around fast after hearing some guy yell at him. His grey eyes widened as they fell upon the sight of the man coming after him. What in the hell was wrong with him??

Without even thinking, DaKota raised the hand with his gun in it and quickly flipped off the safety, aiming at the bloodied guy. There was a noise, the gun going off and the sickly looking guy falling. That kind of happens when you get shot between the eyes.

All that pratice shooting his father had made him do on top of DaKota's military training had paid off. There wasn't much that DaKota couldn't aim at and not hit it. "Gawd damn..." He muttered before taking off running down the street. Blood and gore everywhere. "This musta been what Daddy'd seen in fuckin' Vietnam or somethin'!!" He thought to himself as he ran, heading for anywhere but where he was at that moment!!

Mike couldn’t believe who he was in the company of, not that he eve had an issue with higher-ranking people, or an awe of them. But just practically speaking, the day the Army let him being the same room as these men, was a cold day in hell…. which meant the Army was a little fucked up right now.

“Yes Sir, all communications you had me set up is down, and powered off completely. Do I need to pack it up to go ASAP or something Sir?” He’d forgotten so salute, but figured if shi was this bad, there was no reason to draw their attention to it now.

The tension in the room could suffocate, and he looked around curiously. What in the hell could be so bad that THESE guys were shitting themselves?!

GM Post

DaKota

You find yourself running through the city, mostly managing to stay out of the way as innocent civilians around you fall prey to more and more violence, unable to defend themselves against their attackers, who seem almost impossible to stop. Eventually, though, you loose most of the crowd and turn down a side street.

Just as you stop to take a breather, to figure out where the hell you ended up and what to do next(I don't know if you've been to DC... but its like a weird ass labyrinth of streets, easy to get lost), a person bursts from the building beside you, an auto shop. They groan and launch them self at you, but before they get too close, a sickening thud is heard as you watch a baseball bat smack into the side of their head.

The body slumps to the ground, and you find yourself looking at a young woman.

(to be continued in my next post...)

Michael

The general shakes his head quickly. "Oh no, we don't need to worry about that equipment any time soon. You're only going one place... and that's to get yourself armed and get out there. A riot broke out among the protesters, and it's spreading so fast its almost become city-wide. People are acting strangely, and we're not sure what's causing the trouble. The police are unable to handle something so large-scale, so we're sending our boys in as well to help."

He sighs some, glancing around. "You'll be starting on the lawn... they've been charging the gates in mass quantities."

Evelyn burst from around the corner. She'd been watching the man run down the street, and had been about to speak to him from around the corner where she was hiding in an alley, clutching the Louisville Slugger in her hands, when her boss... or at least what was left of him, burst from the inside of the garage.

She hadn't had time to think... she'd seen what happened when those things got a hold of you, and couldn't be sure he'd be ready for the impact... ready enough to defend himself. Watching the body slump to the ground, she reached out and grabbed the soldier's hand without a second thought. "Follow me!" she said firmly, half dragging him back into the alley. There was a door there, she knew, and hopefully they could escape into the back of the now hopefully empty garage.

Her coveralls had blood on them, as did the tank-top she wore with them, the top of the coveralls off, and the arms tied around her waist to keep them up. A pair of work boots were on her tiny feet, and her hair was in a loose braid, many strands falling from it and into her face, clinging to her perspiration soaked skin.

Once she reached the door, she shoved him in and then stepped in shortly after, slamming the door shut behind her and locking it. Turning on him, she was breathing heavily as she sunk to the floor and sat down, back against the heavy metal door.

It all happened so fast. There was one of those damn sick people in front of him...then on the ground. His silver grey eyes landed on the person who had kind of saved him from being touched by this nasty guy crumpled on the ground now.

DaKota didn't have much time to react as Evelyn grabbed his arm and pulled him with her. Damn..the girl has some strength for being able to drag his ass with her! He followed her into the garage, those eyes on her again as she slumped to the floor.

"What in th' fuckin' hell is goin' on in this damn city??" He asked her, like she knew the answer to his question. He was kind of hoping she did! He ran a hand back over his dark hair which was buzzed into the "Hi and Tight" typical Marine/military style. His gaze slowly moved over her, taking in every inch of her. Probably not the best time in the world to be checking some chick out, but what the hell!?!?!? With all the shit that was going on at this moment in time....DaKota was pretty sure no one would make it through this..maybe!

"You ain't been like bitten or nuthin' by one of them things, have ya??" The hand that still clenched his gun raised up some.

"What in th' fuckin' hell is goin' on in this damn city??"

Evelyn sighed, using her hand to brush back some of the stray strands of her hair from her face. "I was hoping you'd be able to tell me," she said in a tired voice, looking up at him. Shaking her head, she eyed the gun in his hand, hoping she hadn't just saved a nut case who couldn't handle himself. So much for putting faith in those in uniform...

"If I'd been bitten, do you think I'd have saved your ass?" she asked quietly, bringing the bat up and using the end of it to gently push his hand back down so the gun was pointing at the ground. "Save your bullets for those wackos out there, will ya?" she asked.

After a moment, she heaved a sigh and stood up. "My name's Evelyn..." she said, holding out one tiny hand to shake his own.

Mike blinked a few times and restrained himself from trying to clean his ears out. Riots? The fucking joint chiefs did not meet for riots, even on the lawn of the Pentagon. This was horse shit, and it was pilled a mile high.

But, he Saluted smartly, “Yes Sir.” He took the PFC out with him, and once in the hall spoke to him in hushed tones. “If that isn't the biggest bunch of shit I've ever heard. Riots my ass. But the one thing they did say I agree with is getting armed up. Let go see what kinda equipment we can lay our hands on. If shit has hit the fan, I feel like being prepared.”

Down in the armory, soldiers streamed in and out without much order, in fact is was near enough to chaos. He walked up to the metal screen separating him from the armorer and all the weapons. “Two sets of body armor, two M-16's with the M203 grenade launcher, gimme 10 rounds of 40mm ammo for the '203's and...hmmm...gimme a SAW, with a box of ammo. And don't be stingy with the magazines.”


“Are you nuts, they said riot, not fucking world war three, who the hell do you think you are? This isn't a raid on Baghdad!'”

“Right, I just came from General Fields and the SecDef. Oh the Big Man was there too, I'm sure they weren't serious when they told me to arm up to protect their meeting. Your choice....Sgt. Adams. Or should I say Private Adams, by tomorrow?”


“Alright.”

Within moments Specialist O' Malley and PFC whoever were ready for world war 3 and 4, and following the rest the troops out toward the front lawn. They we'rnt joking about this either. Every able bodied moron had a weapon and was sent out. Most here had seen more desk time then field work.

Reaching the outside, he saw the lawn covered in uniformed of every class, from every service, and the masses of sickly looking people pressing up against the fence and gates.

“Oh you gotta be shitting me!”

"Ah jus' got inta this damn town...dunno what's goin' on. Ah was supposed ta meet mah father's commandin' officer an' nevah made it cuz of this shit goin' on."

DaKota raised a brow as she lowered his gun using that bat that had knocked the shit out of the "sick" guy. Slowly and cautiously, he put it back into it's holster under his now unbuttoned BDU jacket. The tshirt underneath the jacket clung to his chest, revealing his muscular build. Pulling that jacket off, his eyes staying on her, revealed that holster which aside from the gun, carried about 4-5 extra clips in the loops on the straps.

He stared at her hand for a moment and looked back to her, extending his own and taking her much much smaller one into his. "DaKota....Corporal DaKota McMurray of th' Marine Corp."

GM Post

Mike:

As you and the PFC take up position, the younger soldier seems just as shocked as everyone else around you. For long moments, you just wait for the order to open fire as over and over again the people swarming the gates and fences are warned over loud speaker that if they do not cease and desist, authorization of live Ammo will be given.

As people take up positions across the lawn, it seems as if the entire crowd of armed men(and even some women) is holding their breath. The people don't seem to be listening to the warnings.

And then finally it happens, the fence gives way somewhere on the other side of the lawn. You watch as people swarm onto the lawn, the rest of the fence and the gates going down in a domino effect. And then you hear it... the command to open fire. Of course, along with that, the highest ranking officers add in to take out their knees first, so that they may be arrested.

A second later, all hell breaks loose. Some of the people seem to be walking at a steady pace, others are limping, and still more are running. Gun fire is going off everywhere, and while several of the assailants fall, they don't stop moving. They're crawling, dragging themselves along the lawn with their hands toward the people shooting at them. And they're not shouting, just letting out guttural groans that are borderline animalistic as they near you.

The PFC looks at you nervously, swallowing hard. "Believe them now?" he asks as he looks back at the crowd, steadily trying to take out the knee caps of those making their way toward you.

Evelyn seemed lost in thought for a long moment, tapping the end of the bat on the concrete floor and chewing her lower lip. Finally though, she looked up at him. "Look... If you were going to meet with a commanding officer... that means they're probably somewhere well protected, right? And they're probably still expecting you to show up. I know this city like the back of my hand, lived here most of my life."

She took in a deep breath, hoping against hope he'd go with the plan she was about to propose. "I can get you there, if you think you can get me somewhere safe... I don't want to be out on the streets if everyone is acting like this... It's really weird... and it's certainly not safe."

She paused for a moment, motioning for him to be quiet as she listened intently to the sounds of chaos coming from the streets. It sounded like it was only getting worse. "The guy who attacked you was my boss... He was perfectly fine earlier... then this woman burst into the shop. I was in the garage section. I heard him scream, went to see what was going on, then she tried to attack me. He was already on the ground... bloody and he looked dead. Wasn't moving, breathing... nothing. I didn't have a choice... I killed her. I sat on the phone with 911 for almost 20 minutes, but was on hold..."

There was a tear in her eye, but she swiped at it in an almost annoyed manner. "Finally I gave up, and they never called back. Thats when more of those... people started showing up outside. I ran into the back... locked the door between the office and this room, then hid in the alley, was going to try and get back home. I was just about to leave when I saw my boss go at you. This shit isn't natural, Corporal... and if being attacked by one of those things makes you one of them... I want off the street."

“No. No I fucking don't fucking believe it. But here we are anyway.”

After going through a few more rounds with his M-16, and learning just as fast as everyone else that popping out kneecaps wasn't doing shit. It wasn't even slowing these 'people' down!

“Fuck it dude, hitting center mass isn't phasing them much either, and thats just jacked up! Knock their heads off!”

A stutter came from the PFC in his class A's with body armor thrown over them for good contrast.

“Fine, don't, but if they get to you I won't cry for ya. Besides you can blame it on me, being an order and all. Granted we need to survive first for either of us to be in trouble, and this isn't any fucking riot.”

With that he slung the M-16 over his shoulder and hit the dirt, moving the SAW in front of him. Several heads turned as the steady pop of the machine gun came to life, wondering who in the hell had something faster then the M-16 out here. As some looked his way, others looked shocked as the heads of oncoming civilians were struck by the SAW's rounds. But it works, and those hit went down for good. Soon more joined him in his choice of target. But still the mass of people crept forward. Moving heads were hard to hit, and all but impossible for the defenders who were mostly pencil pushing administrative folk.

“This is fucking nuts dude, we need to fall back!” He squeezed of another burst, and was just as dismayed by how many kept on coming. “We'll have better luck from a window or something. Anything but open grass between us and them!”

As he picked up and began backing up, each taking turn to cover the other, they found themselves against the wall and looking for a way in while continuing to fire on the oncoming masses.

“Who the fuck ever thought we'd be cappin' civi's man?! This shit is Jacked up!”

DaKota stared at Evelyn, a brow raised, watching her as she thought. Casually, he let his eyes move over her form again, grinning to himself on the inside and not letting it show. She was damn fine!!!

Wait...she was saying something!! He tuned in just in time to hear her. Taking a deep breath, he shrugged. "Ah was headin' to the Pentagon...an' it looks like that where it all was comin' from. Ah ran all the way out here. Ah'm sure by now...ev'ryone there's zombies or whatever the fuck these people are turnin' into! Ah feel like ah'm in some B-rated horror movie!"

His eyes darted towards the door and back to her. "Please call me DaKota...anythin' but Corporal. Feel like mah first shirt's talkin' ta me or sumpthin'!!" DaKota shifted towards the door, looking back to her. "Ah mean...we kin try ta get down there...an' see if mah daddy's buddy is still there. Ah'd call his cell...but ah know they get turned off once inside the Pentagon."

GM Post

Mike:

Despite your best efforts to take down the crowd, you find it neigh impossible. There's just too many, and no matter how many you drop, more keep coming. The PFC and yourself gather your things and move to find a way inside, only to find the doors locked tight and no one on the other side answering as you try to get inside.

The PFC looks back at the approaching crowd, grabbing his M-16 and trying to use the but to break a window, only to have it bounce off the bullet proof glass. "Damnit!" he says, looking especially urgent now. Some of the others in uniform have by now picked up and run off, circling around toward the other sides of the building, hoping to find a way off the grounds and to safety.

The PFC doesn't wait to see if you're going to come with, he simply turns and runs after them, all but saying 'to hell with it!' over the post you two were put in.

Evelyn ran a hand through her hair, chewing her lip and trying to make up her mind on what she wanted to do. On the one hand, the pentagon sounded like the best place to be... but on the other, it sounded like the worst, if all this really was coming from there.

She pushed off of the wall she was leaning on, pacing and knocking the baseball bat in her hand against the floor in a steady tap. Then suddenly she stopped, banging her fist against the door in frustration. "God damnit!" she cursed softly, only to turn and look at him as a thud sounded against the door, followed by a groan.

"Oh shit... looks like they found us..." she said, glancing at the deadbolt she'd thrown to keep the door closed. "I dunno how long that door will hold if too many show up... besides... too many show up, we're not gonna get out of here." Glancing up at DaKota, she looked around again. "Looks like we take our chances to get into the office... theres a work truck in the garage, if we can get the keys for it I can drive us out of here."

He thought about putting a bullet in the PFC's head as he ran away, but then his own ideas about the situation very nearly mirrored the pansy. Nearly. Retreat was one thing, but not without letting the enemy fear what he chased.

But then, thinking of American civilians, stupid as they normally were, as the enemy didn't sit right either. Something was obviously wrong with them from the mechanical, mindless way they came at them, even when shot, but still....

All the defenders on the lawn were backing away, firing at whatever still moved toward them, but loosing ground with each passing moment. “Fuck it.” He unslung his m_16, with the M203 grenade launcher, and slipped a 40mm round in. “They are soooo going to fuck me for this....” and with that thought he lobbed the projectile deep into the mindless mass. The explosion took out a few, and slowed down more without arms or legs to advance as quickly.

But with that he ran like mad, and resumed his search for an entrance into the building they were to defend. Heading southeast from the mall entrance, he made for the river side entrance in hopes of finding a more established defensive position, or with luck a way inside.