author's note:
so yeah, not exactly sure if this should go in serious RP or here, but its got no OOC, so im putting it here.
So, Khaki-shepherd and me have been good friends for a long while. we did these RP-esque things, usually being a good, long length. decided to do it again! so, here ya go! we each did our first portion of the story. havent written in a while, so sorry if mine's crap. heh, his is much longer.
Seventeen years ago, a virus of unknown origin swept the globe. The first sign of infection, often dismissed as the common cold, was a runny nose. Then, a few days later, that snot turned to blood. Then, you're unable to sleep. Then, all in the span of a few minutes, your bones break and reshape, turning you into some sort of animal-human hybrid.
Due to the frightening nature of this virus, a state of national emergency was declared in almost every nation across the world, leaving their leaders as dictators, to do as they please, with what they please, with the full approval of their citizens.
There was no cure, no matter how many billions of dollars the governments of the world put into researching it. The only known way to prevent someone from being infected, was to issue hazmat suits to the general public. so, they did. And, in true corporate fashion, Hazcorp, a major supplier of Hazmat suits to the US army, established a monopoly, through no small amount of subterfuge, and, on quite a few occasions,bombings. But, with a little cash in the right people's pockets, they were allowed to keep their monopoly, selling their suits at outrageous prices. But, people had to buy them, so the CEO of Hazcorp quickly became the richest, and most powerful man in the world.
In order to keep people buying his suits, the CEO of Hazcorp had all of the infected hunted down, rounded up, and placed in "internment camps" , little better than the nazi concentration camps of world war two. The few people that cried out against this were quickly silenced, which often meant either threats, blackmail, or outright killing them.
Then, Hazcorp started offering free hazmat suits to it's employees, at barely minimal wage. So, people jumped at this, quickly signing up to work for Hazcorp, which changed it's name to "Praemunio LLC" after it started to sell pretty much everything, from teddy bears to the now ubiquitous hazmat suit.
--
The Ford Explorer slowly cruised down the empty city street, dodging empty shopping carts, overturned oil drums and various other bits of debris that had been left on the roadway since the last riot a few weeks earlier. The vehicle’s engine was relatively quiet for an SUV and without it’s headlights on it was practically undetectable by the occasional police or military patrols that enforced the curfew in this section of town.
Like many other vehicles that were driven around post-outbreak Seattle, the Explorer was technically stolen, but that didn’t matter in the eyes of the law. The previous owner was infected and once you were arrested and shipped off to an internment camp any belongings or assets you had were either divided up by neighbours or just looted.
Ashley ‘Ash’ Wendell sat in the rear of the car with his hands wrapped around the wooden baseball bat, staring nervously out of the window. He’d never been on a raid before, although he felt safe with the rest of the team seated in the SUV with him. He tried to breathe in deeply, his sinuses had been congested for a few days but he’d been checked briefly at one of the makeshift medical clinics in the city but it seemed to just be a cold.
Seated in the front passenger seat was Jackson, the leader of the group. The driver was a short, stocky guy called Paul who he’d never met before and sitting next to Ash was Carlos, a former Praemunio employee. With the exception of Wendell, each member wore black Hazmat suits that they’d stolen from Praemunio LLC, Ash himself wore a makeshift suit with a cheap painter’s respirator, sealed with plastic sheeting and duct tape.
It was crude, but usable. “Alright guys, the Praemunio warehouse is nearby, ready up. And Carlos, remember: whatever happens, don’t hesitate… you too Ash” Jackson said, looking over his shoulder. “If you get spotted, put that bat to good use or you’re dead”
Ash flicked his gloved fingers over the nails protruding from the end of the baseball bat. He was irritated over not having a gun, especially considering that he knew his way around a firearm, but he knew that it would only slow him down so he simply nodded in response. Ash checked his watch, it read 3:24AM. “Remember, these are inexperienced guards, it shouldn’t take much to scare them.” Carlos mentioned, casually racking his shotgun for dramatic effect.
Paul swerved the car to avoid an obstacle on the road, throwing Carlos against Ash in the backseat, pushing his face sharply against the window. Ash was about to make a colourful remark in anger as he felt his nose began to bleed but before he opened his mouth he noticed what the obstacle was, a tall humanoid figure with a long muzzle and bright blue eyes visible through a blanket wrapped over the creature’s head. The pair of eyes followed them almost accusingly as they drove past. The creature never moved, but it’s silhouette quickly disappeared back into the darkness as quickly as it had come.
Ash clearly wasn’t the only one who noticed, as Carlos leaned in close and said “After this raid we’ll give you your very own Hazmat suit to save you from ending up like that…”
“You’d better…” he answered Ash felt the vehicle slow down as The SUV quietly pulled off the road and rolled to a stop.
“Alright guys, here we go… Thanks for the ride, Paul” Jackson declared, as he swung open the door and jumped out, bringing the rifle up to his eyes like the professional he thought he was. Ash followed and ran towards the fence and dived down against the wire, feeling the soft, cold grass beneath him. He looked around for any guards but saw none.
The compound seemed to be empty and, with the exception of the floodlights in front of the large warehouse, most of the lights were off. Ash pulled the wire cutters out of his pocket and began cutting the wire mesh open, the sound was painfully loud and he expected patrols and alarms at any second but within a minute he was though and with the others behind him, he began sprinting towards the closest window. He was illuminated completely by the floodlights but he ignored it completely and had cleared the 50 yard dash in seconds.
Ash hardly slowed down as he reached the window and smashed his bat against the glass with his whole body weight behind him. Ash misjudged the strength of the window as the laminated glass gave way almost instantly, sending him hurtling through onto the warehouse floor.
Dazed, Wendell slowly picked himself up, leaning on his bat for support as felt the pain from dozens of shallow cuts in his arm and shoulder. Ash swore loudly as the others rushed inside, but tried to stay composed as he looked around the empty warehouse. Inside were hundreds of boxes full of suits and other Praemunio products, But what caught his eye were two loaded delivery vans marked “EMERGENCY AID”.
“Check it out, exactly where I said they’d be!” Carlos laughed as he lowered his shotgun. “**censor**’ A!” Jackson exclaimed, but paused for second as voices echoed from outside along with the barking of guard dogs.
“Sh!t! They’re onto us, Get in the vans!” Ash picked up an extra box of suits and rushed to the second van and threw it into the rear and climbed into the passenger seat as Carlos began starting the car, turning the keys that had been left in the ignition. The starter whined and just as the engine seemed to start, it cut out again. Carlos swore and tried again, shouting in triumph as the engine roared to life.
“C’mon Just drive!” Ash shouted, as he saw Jackson race forward in the first vehicle and smash through the weak roller doors moments later. In corner of his eye, Ash saw a group of guards rush around the corner with their rifles at the ready.
Carlos put the van in gear, released the handbrake and floored the accelerator. He began to say something unintelligible, but he was never able to finish his sentence before the cabin erupted in a hailstorm of bullets and ricochets as the guards opened fire on them.
Ash took cover behind the dash just in time to see his partner’s head snap backwards as multiple rounds struck him in upper body sending fine pink mist spattering around the cabin. Glass fragments showered over Ash as the windscreen shattered, leaving it virtually impossible to see into. Carlos’s body slumped forwards over the wheel and hit the horn, which started blaring loudly.
The wailing horn joined the cacophony of sirens and alarms already echoing around the warehouse. Ash reached towards Carlos and quickly took the shotgun, and pulled the dead man’s pistol out of its holster on his belt along with a spare magazine and placed it into his own pocket. Ash climbed into the back of the van and pressed himself against the rear door, ready to climb out and return fire with the shotgun.
He could hear voices outside, at least three maybe more, and judging by the occasional light outside they were approaching with flashlights in the dark warehouse, Ash slowly opened the door and immediately dropped to the floor, underneath the vehicle giving him a clear shot of the guards’ feet with the Remington. He waited until they got slightly closer before he fired. The sound of the shotgun was almost deafening and equalled only by the screams of agony as all three guards were struck by Ash’s shots and collapsed the floor, clutching limbs.
He stood up and ran towards the exit, shooting a fourth guard square in the chest as he took cover behind a plywood wall, though his Kevlar vest would’ve undoubtedly saved his life. Ash sprinted towards the exit, dove through the hole in the wire and continued running down the road, the way they had driven down earlier.
He tore the mask off his face in order to breathe properly, he was tired and his exposed, wounded arm was agonising. Although, he could still hear alarms and sirens behind him so he kept going at a steady pace. He approached a corner below a streetlight and checked behind himself for a few seconds, but the moment he turned back around someone grabbed him by the arms and twisted him around.
“Help me… please” the figure spoke in a gruff, but desperate voice just inches from his face. Ash immediately saw the unmistakeably canine features and the same bright blue eyes that he’d seen earlier. He shoved the figure backwards and brought the handgun up level with the former human’s face. Which sent it slowly backing away.
“Stay back!” he shouted, holding the Smith and Wesson M&P .40 in shaking hands. “There’s nothing I can do for you” “Please, I need food… they took everything I had! We can help each other” the Anthro pleaded pulling the blanket down from around his head exposing his face.
“That’s not my problem, now leave or I’ll call the authorities” Ash threatened the retreating creature that was already beginning to disappear out of the cone of light from the streetlight.
“Why would you do that? We’re in this together!” the voice replied vaguely, almost lost in the darkness.
“What do you mean?” Ash demanded, feeling slightly nervous over the sudden change in tone.“You don’t know yet?” the Anthro asked, “…You’re already infected”
“W…What?” Ash stepped backwards in surprise. “I can smell it on you. It’s strong, you’re in the late stage” Ash could barely respond
“You’re lying! Get out of here before I put you out of your own misery!”
“Fine suit yourself, but you might want to wipe your face before you head back” the voice echoed coldly once more before disappearing altogether in a volley of footsteps. Ash put a gloved hand up to his face but he already knew what the Anthro was talking about, he tasted the sharp metallic taste of blood on his lips as it oozed from his nose.
Ash closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. It all made sense, the flu-like symptoms, the nosebleeds and the constant shaking; He must have been infected weeks ago. He was terrified; every thing was going to change. Already, he was no longer entirely human; his body was preparing to change. Ash thought about finding food, his family, where to hide, what to do and how to survive. He began to panic and felt starved of air. Suddenly he felt overwhelmingly lightheaded as the exhaustion from running and lack of adrenaline caught up with him, Ash slid back against the wall and collapsed to the ground, too faint to do anything but sleep.
--
"Piece of god-damned..." Barrett Fulton muttered, slapping a balled up fist against the screen in front of him. It was broken, again, which didn't bode well for the things ability to judge if he was infected or not, even if it did work.
"Yo Barrett!" someone shouted from above the small basement of the communal apartment he lived in "You cool down there?”
"Yeah! I'm fine! I'll be done in a minute!" he shouted back, pulling his arm out of a slot on its side, and stepping away from the console.
He snuffled away a bit of snot, wiping it on his shirt. His nose had been runny for a while now, he realized. Was he infected? No... He didn't think so. His nose had been runny for two weeks. The incubation time was one week, he was pretty sure.
He let out a long, exasperated, sigh, scratching nervously at the stubble on his cheek. If he was infected, his family would help him, he hoped. He shook his head, dismissing those thoughts. He wasn't infected, he was sure. He sighed again, before trudging up the stairs, exchanging a cursory nod to the person that walked down after him.
He'd heard of a good spot to loot, so, he donned the chemical hood, sealed it, and stepped into the airlock of communal home Seattle-033, intending to do the (only slightly) frowned upon practice of looting an infected person's home.
Barrett pressed a red button on the airlock, a foul smell filling the small, rectangular room. But thankfully, his suit held fast, and he smelled none of it.
As he stepped outside, intending to root through a promising looking home, he passed by what seemed to him to be a bum. He shook his head, drew a wad , of crumpled dollar bills from his pocket, tossed them at the sleeping bum, and continued on walking, paying him no real mind.
It took him a few minutes, but he reached the house he had marked on his map. It was a large, inner city mansion, with a wide driveway, and an extremely overgrown front lawn. It had most likely been looted, he could tell from the broken window on the side. But, he had heard from a friend of his, that the former owner of this house had quite the collection of firearms, which meant he likely had something in a safe. Which is why he brought his two friends, duffle bag, and crowbar. Then, there was the ever present 1.9 pound weight of his .45 caliber Sig P220 equinox, which he had 'inherited' when his neighbor turned into a bobcat in the early days of the outbreak.
As he approached the front door, he heard a series of clicking noises, like claws pattering against linoleum.
"Hello?" he called out
No response
"If you're in there, I don't wanna hurt you. I've a gun, so..."
Still, no response
Barrett drew his pistol, thumbed off the safety, and, with trembling fingers, reached for the doorknob.
He never got to open the door; some heavy force blew both him, and the strong, oak door sprawling onto the gravel.
Barrett squeezed out a curse, staring up at the massive wolf scowling down at him, with parted lips. If he was still human, that would have been a smile.
He gulped, searching around the yard for his pistol. It buried somewhere in the grass. The only way he would get it was with a broken arm or two
He could run, maybe.
No. That thing looks like it could cover the distance between them in seconds.
He gulped, climbing to shaky feet with a shaky breath.
"Shouldn’t have come 'ere, humie." the wolf growled, in thickly accented English
"Hey man..." he said, drawing the crowbar strapped to his leg "I don’t want any...Trouble!"
He ended the last statement by lunging forward, the steel crowbar making a loud, wet slap as it arced upward into the creature's crotch, the thing's eyeballs bulging out almost comically as it crumpled up onto the floor.
"god-damned mother...fvcker!" he screamed, slamming it down right into the wolf’s head,
"Mother...fvcking...fvck!" he screamed a series of formless curses, Slamming down again, again, and again, until he saw grey matter leaking out of a crack in its skull. And then he did it a few more times, just for good measure. He stood back, dropping his bloodied instrument.
“That…was close…” he breathed, his voice hoarse. There was a large dent on the side of the thing's head, bits of brain, skull, and blood radiating outward, only stopped by his suit, which was covered in gore.
He sighed, staring at the house. He didn’t want to go in. but he had to. So, he picked up the crowbar, slid it back into the strap on his waist, and took a tentative step towards where he thought his pistol landed.
Topic: Outbreak (Read 956 times)