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A small contingent of Franklin's men were holed up in the museum beneath the Gateway Arch. One of them, a teen aged kid named Billy had been posted as a lookout in the observation level at the top of the Arch, and he busted out of the stairwell into the museum in a breathless rush.
Everyone gathered around as he caught his breath. He stammered, "They're back. The river. I saw them pull in. Franklin. The others. Looks like they found more people. They have more vehicles."
The whole room got ecstatic. Supplies were running low and all of them were looking forward to a meal. People started gathering up their belongings and preparing to venture outside.
"W-wait. I-44. I-70. The F'uglies. Two large herds of them, I'd guess around 3,000 to 5,000 total between the two of them. A shitstorm of them! Both out past 270 but heading this way. We probably have about 18 hours before both groups meet right on top of downtown. We've got to get out of here. By the time those herds draw out all the f'uglies in west county that herd will be 20,000 strong when it hits the landing. We've seen this before. We gotta go. Get back to Franklin and tell him we gotta hit shit and get..."
Cua squinted over the building tops, trying to get a good look at the roads. It looked like another swarm of demons some miles off, just like the other road. She leaned back against the iron rail of the fire escape.
"Damn." No way out except the way she'd come, and she wasn't about to head back.
Cua rolled her head back, stretching her neck. She needed to get a better view on the demons, see which way they were moving and at what pace. Would it be better to hole up and wait them out, or slip out another way?
She needed higher ground.
As she moved her stretch from neck to shoulders, the enormous, looming thing caught her eye. She froze, considering the giant arch. Next to the water, it was only a mile or so away, and certainly tall enough to offer a good lay of the land.
She picked up her pack, making sure her 12-guage was in easy reach. She might as well head there first.
Slipping through the city was second nature, the way walking down a road Before would have been. The few demons she did spot, she deftly avoided. With the sun on her face, it almost felt like a pleasant day.
The arch was soon towering overhead. It appeared one had to go into a museum to get access to the stairs up. Cua did a quick periphery check and went in. She wasn't ten steps inside when voices froze her to the spot.
There were people in here. Many people.
Panicked, Cua began backing away. Her foot caught on an old, disconnected divider chain and snagged. The rusting steel screeched against the stone floor, echoing off the cavernous walls. Cua cast frantically about, wondering wether to run or hide. She jerked back toward the door, but the sound of running footsteps said there wouldn't be enough time.
She turned, taking the best cover as she could, back against the wall. She grabbed her shotgun off her shoulder, and planted herself, ready for a confrontation.
Last Edit: Sept 18, 2015 15:06:14 GMT -5 by Deleted
"Alright people you know the drill. Grab what you're keeping and get to the Landing. Billy, go get the bus and bring it down... What are you doing people? Move it!"
Billy ran out of the museum atrium entrance and into an Asian woman wielding a shotgun. He pauses, wide-eyed.
"I... Uh.. Easy. If you shoot me 20 people are gonna come out here and shoot you."
The kid had a holstered pistol on his hip, but he was obviously too scared to make a sudden move for it.
The spotty teenager who came whipping around the corner was not quite who Cua had been expecting. She didn't lower her gun, but she felt some of the panicked tension from earlier unspool in her gut.
"I wont shoot you, if they don't shoot me," she said. She tried to look past the kid, to see if his friends were coming down behind them. "There are demons headed this way," she continued. "Hundreds of them. You'll see if you climb up the... tower." She made a sharp upward gesture with the barrel of her gun, indicating the arch. "You need to leave, but you can't go up the roads," she warned.
She thought about making a break for it. Maybe waiting for them to clear out before returning to climb the arch. Still, that would leave her with the same problems as before, only with less time to solve them. Perhps she could slip out with these people, ally long enough to leave the city and then go her own way.
Last Edit: Sept 19, 2015 20:43:08 GMT -5 by Deleted
"Demons? You mean the pukers? Did you see any with neon orange spray-painted faces? Nevermind. I just came from up there... That's why we're bugging out. We can handle hundreds. There's thousands of them coming. Welcome to smack dab center of Fuglyville. We're evacuating. I gotta go get the bus and bring it around for the others. We have a way out, and the f'uglies can't swim. Unfortunately they can't drown either...but we can get to a safer place than this outpost until the shitstorm passes. Those bastards crowd up and pass through here at least once a month. We have pretty good tactics against them. New Orleans probably hates us, but fuck 'em. Any minute now my people are going to come out here expecting a bus. I have to go get it."
The kid starts to turn away from her, showing some confidence that he won't be shot. "You should save your ammo for the rotters. C'mon, you can help me get the bus. Then you can meet the others. We can always use another shotgun. Even better if you get to keep it. My name's Billy."
Spray-painted faces...? Odd, but she'd never seen anything like that. What was far more worrying...
"Thousands?" she muttered. Her thought of waiting out the hoards was dashed completely. There was no way she could bunker down to wait out thousands of demons. Not without several days to prepare, anyway. She was curious about his claim that they could handle hundreds. A childish boast, or an accurate assesment of their numbers and capabilities? She wondered, nervously, exactly how many were in this kid's crew.
A way out, though... That was far too tempting an offer to turn down.
"Alright." She lowered her shotgun, but kept it ready, mindful of the boys hand on his hip holster. "I'll help. Let's go get this bus."
"Don't shoot that thing. The bus is in the underground parking garage north of the park off Washington. If we have to abort get to the Metrolink station on the Eads Bridge and run down the tracks east over the river. Watch for tripwires on the bridge. Dutch has set up claymore mines chest-high... They'll blast you in half just as well as they get the job done on the fuglies... Hopefully we don't have to go that route. Lumiere Casino and Hotel is putrid with dismembered yuckies. Damn shame too... If you can handle the smell the beds are comfy. But we'll get the bus, get everyone to the Landing and pop smoke. Franklin will send boats for us. You'll like Franklin. He's a goddamn psycho but he keeps us alive..."
Billy starts running northwest past the northern leg of the Arch. The park is open, sparse with trees and just as many two-year rotting walkers. The kid trips a walker with a leg sweep and quickly pistol-whips its skull into gushy pieces.
Billy gets up from the walker he took down but now he's jogging with an unusual gait, like his leg is broken. He looks back at the Asian girl. "Come on. We have to get the bus!"
He gets entangled with another walker as another one pulls him to the ground. Gunshots ring out and the walkers head explodes and Billy rolls out from under them with his right leg twisted at an impossible angle. "Damn it.."
As Billy stands the lower half of his right leg remains wedged under the two dead walkers... The leg is prosthetic.
Billy tries to free his prosthesis but the walkers are closing fast. He begins to hop away from them as best as he can on one leg...
Last Edit: Sept 21, 2015 21:41:24 GMT -5 by Deleted
The boy takes off like a shot. It's clearly either follow, or be left in the dust. Cua briefly considers going her own way, heading up the arch like she'd planned, and leaving his group to their own devices. Then the moment passes, and she darts after him, running into the open park area. There are more demons now than when she came in. A bad omen. The city truly is on it's way to being overrun.
Cua unsheathes her KA-BAR, holding it firmly in a reverse grip, as she runs into the park. She's quick on her feet, dancing out of the way of the stumbling monsters. One comes in too close. She pushes the rotting corpse to the side with her free hand and jams her knife into the back of it's skull with the other. The bone gives with a familiar crunch and she shoves the demon off her blade, giving it's body a true death.
Shots fire up ahead. Cua's attention snaps to them. A cluster has formed several yards on, and more are closing in. Her de facto guide is struggling, twisting away. At first, she thinks his leg has been torn off, and then she finally processes the image. A prosthetic. For an instant, Cua is frozen by an unsuppressable rage at the irresponsibility of it all. Who sends someone with a prosthetic leg on a one-man "hurry-or-we-die" mission?!
Before she knows it, Cua is diving in on instinct, her outrage carrying her like a wave. Her blade slips with practiced ease through sloughed-skinned temples and eyeless sockets alike. Brain and blood spatter her arm up to the shoulder, adding their fresh marks to the old stains.
"Kid!" she shouts, running up behind him. He's trying to hop, one-legged, away from the demons. She bursts past the pursuing creatures, slipping her shoulders under his arm, doing as best she can to hurry without tripping them both.
They rush toward the end of the park. As they approach the street, she slows long enough to glance over her shoulder. The demons are closing in, their numbers seeming to multiply before her eyes. A panicked exhales pushes out of her lungs. She looks back at the street.
"Which way?" she asks.
Last Edit: Sept 22, 2015 12:09:49 GMT -5 by Deleted
Billy's gunshots cause it to rain... walkers. Several walk off the roof of a parking deck west of the Arch grounds and splatter on 7th Street. More can be seen peering over the side of the lower decks.
Billy curses and points north towards Washington Street down the hill. "The bus is under us. The entrance to the underground parking is down there. We gotta load up the others. I may need your help with the wheelchair lift..."
A fairly large group of walkers approaches from the southwest...
Cua recoils away as bodies rain from the structure above. The decayed skin rips open with the force of impact, flinging guts and entrails onto the pavement. The smell would be rancid, if Cua hadn't gone nose-blind to the scent of rot ages ago. Even still, she has to swallow a reflexive gag at the sight.
The shuffle of footsteps reminds her that the way back is just a deadly. The demons at their back draw doggedly closer. Cua yanks the two of them Northward, still holding the kid's arm over her shoulders.They run down the street as quickly as they can with their loping, awkward pace.
The dead seem to be everywhere she turns. She sees them in the middle distance ahead, forcing their broken forms toward the recent noise. The majority cluster behind them. The panic in her gut feels like hot coals, urging her to move faster.
Reaching the parking garage feels like it takes ages, but they do eventually reach it, darting inside, past the smashed in ticket booth. More demons linger around the rusting cars and crumbling concrete. One surprises them from the ground, it's fingers grasping at her toes. She kicks it violently away, slamming her heel into it's nose. It's not dead, but she's put it off long enough for them to escape.
"Down?" she asks, gesturing with her knife to the nearest visible stairwell. She glances at the kid to check, but then goes back to scanning their surroundings, nervously watching the dead that begin to creep into the garage from outside.
"Mr. Dutch *Pant* can we please *Pant* stop for a bit?"
Dutch looked back at Peter, this is the third time that the overweight teenager had asked for a break. Normally Dutch wouldn't be with people like him, but they had gotten separated from the others.
"Peter, what the fuck is your problem? Are you stupid, or have you simply forgot the zeds on our tail?" Dutch, who was getting increasingly irritated with the boy asked. The two stopped. "You know Peter, I think I can help."
"Really?!?" The boy asked, ecstatically.
"Yeah. Your bag has food and ammo in it right? Lemme see it a sec."
Peter's face turned to one of relief as he tossed Dutch the rucksack. "Do you think that'll he-" the boy was cut off by the sound of Dutch's revolver. As soon as Peter had handed Dutch the bag, Dutch had drawn his weapon and fired in one swift motion.
Dutch looked down at the boy who was laying on the ground wailing in pain. "I'm sorry" he said. "But it's survival of the fittest. And that sure as shit ain't you."
With that Dutch began to run towards the river landing, with any luck Peter will slow them down a bit.
From the north, on the other side of Eads Bridge, Cua and Billy hear gunfire. Billy says "I know that gun. That's Dutch."
Billy shrugs himself off Cua's shoulder and squats at the top of the stairs. The stairwell descends into darkness and the smell of concentrated death.
"I can't go down with you, we'll trip... When you reach the exit level you will see daylight at the entrance. The bus is parked there ready to drive out. Keys are in the ignition. Out, then right, then right again. When you're in front of the Arch, honk the horn and help people get down the stairs. Get the wheelchair lift ready..."
"shit. shit.SHIT!" Josie doesn't bother keeping her voice low. They've already spotted her, a thick group of Growlers ready to bear down on her at any minute. She ditches her bike, seeing no way to keep it and escape at the same time. Theres at least ten gaining on her now, and more up ahead if shes unlucky. She tries to lose them down a side street, only to run into more. With only her bat to defend herself she turns on her heels and runs back the way she came. Whacking two of them away to create a gap in their horde. Her size makes it easy to dodge between broken down cars and bodies that have been left in the streets. Until she finds herself on a nearly empty side street.
She stops, spotting a lone Growler a few feet away. She readies her bat to swing, taking it down with a single crack to the skull and then finishing it off quickly. She takes her switchblade and cuts a line from belly to chest, using the blood spilling out to her advantage. She knows that they don't attack anything that smells like death. They only eat the living.
Covered in guts and blood she staggers on weary legs back into the street she had been on before, looking up to the sky and seeing the historic Gateway Arch overhead. She keeps an eye on the Growlers as she passes by them, slow as to not alert them to her presence. A few turn their heads, letting out groans as they do but none approach her yet.
She follows along with the group of Growlers, trying to figure out where exactly they are heading. While also trying to find a decent escape point. She nearly stops dead as she spots in front of her a running man. She watches as the Growlers around her descend on the body of a freshly dead teenager. Taking this opportunity to escape she follows in the mans footsteps, as close as she dares without immediately announcing her presence to him.
Franklin peered across the river through binoculars, scanning the riverfront leading up to the Gateway Arch. He heard the distant pop of gunfire here and there, and a swarm of the dead approach from the south across the park around the Arch. Something's wrong. Are the refugees picked up at Ft. Leonard Wood still in the museum? Most of them were physically disabled, and elected stay behind when the Charon's Ferry made the trip to Cairo.
Dutch had stayed behind as well, probably still at Franklin's safe house in the Central West End. That guy's tough, he can ride it out. It looked like Franklin had arrived back in St. Louis just in time to see a massive migration of rotters.
Franklin steered the small Coast Guard patrol boat towards the western shore, and cut the engine, letting the current turn the boat southward and drifting. He ignored the gargling, hissing floaters that frantically pawed at the side of the boat, trying to grasp ahold and climb aboard.
"I wish Dutch were here to aim this thing..." Franklin thought aloud as he set up the mortar. "Ah well, a general direction will have to do."
Whatever the ghouls were swarming towards will likely be grateful for the change in their attention. Franklin waited for the boat to drop and begin to bob back up in the river's current before he dropped the shell into the mortar's barrel.
With a shockingly loud BOOM the mortar launched its shell, and it shrieked with a high pitched whistle as it came down and exploded a few hundred feet from the south leg of the Arch, sending dozens of fragmented walkers flying and scores more heading for the impact zone, stimulated by the loud noise.
The mortar worked as planned, and the cache of military equipment at Cairo was even larger than what was left at Ft. Leonard Wood, and without the dangerous hours of land travel. With sufficient force, Cairo could be theirs.
Franklin let another mortar round fly, this one landing in the side of the Holiday Inn, exploding and catching the building on fire.
Cua peered down into the black stairwell, foul and dark without any electric lights. Carrying along a person, her pack, and navigating the stairs might be more than she could manage. It certainly wouldn't be quick, and time was definitely a factor as the city slowly flooded with demons. She glanced back at the kid.
"Fine. I'll swing by and get you, and then we'll go get your friends," she said. A few rights to get around to the other side of the structure, then they'd head back to the arch.
Wheelchair lift, she thought with a touch of amazement. The last time she'd seen a wheelchair was at the nursing home her family had broken in to last year. The residents had been left behind by the staff, it seemed. She remembered an elderly man sitting in a wheelchair, the limbs of his possessed body reaching and grasping at them from it's seat as they walked past. Her brother had shot it in the head, a last mercy.
She'd though most people had been leaving the sick and injured for dead. That's the way it'd been in the West, at any rate. To hear that people were still looking after each other like that... Well, it gave her a feeling approaching warmth, a nearly positive emotion. The first she'd felt in weeks.
A movement in the periphery drew her attention, and Cua quickly killed the nearing demon, a swift blade through the temple. The area was going to be swarming soon.
"I'll be right back," she said, making eye contact and giving the kid a quick nod. She stepped to the edge of the stairs and stepped down one, then paused. She looked over her shoulder at him.
"I'm Cua. If I hear you shout, I'll come back up." With that she grabbed her flashlight from it's side pocket on her pack, and began to descend.
The stairwell was black as pitch and stank of rot and mold. Cua pulled her bandanna up from around her neck to cover her nose and mouth. The flashlight beam was weak, but enough to make moving a simple task. She heard scratching noises and tightened her grip on her knife. No telling if it was just rats or trapped demons.
She was nearly a flight down, still listening as closely as she could for a yell or scream. It wasn't the sound of the boy's voice that startled her, though. It was the sudden, violent shudder of the concrete under her feet. The building trembled slightly, and then she heard the unmistakable sound of an explosion.
Cua froze on the step.
Indecision tore at her. Go up and check on the kid, or go on and get the bus? Bus, she decided. If the explosion had hit the kid, there was nothing she could do anyway.
Cua tore down the stairs far less cautiously, eager to get out in case it was a bombing or an earthquake. She couldn't tell anything from the dammed windowless stairwell. When the second shake-and-boom hit, she knew the city was being bombed, the way the government had bombed Las Vegas. Every instinct screamed at her to get out, now!
Cua flew, jumping as many stairs at a time as she could until she reached the floor marked "Exit" in large painted letters.
The scratching must have been rats, because the smell was from the corpses of two demons with strange orange faces. They lay in the stairwell, just before the door, and had both been shot through the head. She hopped over them, not pausing to investigate, and headed straight for the exit.
She cracked it, slowly, blinking in the sudden influx of daylight, and pocketed her flashlight. It looked clear. Two demons near the far fence, but otherwise calm. She pushed the door open fully.
True to his word, the bus sat in the structure exit. Someone had spray painted over the bright yellow exterior. Whether it was meaningless vandalism, or intentional, she had no idea. Cua slipped her knife back in it's sheath and snuck closer, careful not to grab the attention of the far two demons.
At this distance, she could see the middle had a door for wheelchair access. She had no clue how to operate it, but it was likely one of the people at the museum knew how, and the kid certainly did. Quietly prying open the main door, she saw the bus had been stocked with a few bags and boxes. Of what, she had no idea.
The keys, however, were in the ignition. She closed the door behind her, sat down in the drivers chair, and tried to orient herself.
Hand brake, clutch, gear shift... Ok, a little more elaborate than usual, but the basics looked the same. Fine. She could do this. She clutched, turning the ignition, and was immensely relieved to hear the engine turn over without fussing. This did attract the two loitering demons, but she wasn't much worried about them with ten tons of mobile steel wrapped around her.
Cua put it in first and eased out onto the street. The turns were tricky, having to swing much wider than she was used to, but this inconvenience was immediately made up for when she plowed over a demon with only a short bump in the ride. Cua smirked, glancing at the pancaked creature in her rearview mirror.
She moved the bus around to the front of the building easily enough. The dead were more numerous than before, but were fortunately moving toward the smoke that choked the river side. Not a bombing, but a diversion? Clever. A building was merrily burning away several blocks down. The flames leapt from busted windows, chunks of wood sloughing off the structuren and raining like Hellfire from above.
Cua stopped where she'd left the kid and cranked open the door, letting the engine idle.
"Hey!" she shouted, jumping up and standing in the door of the bus. She squinted at the shadowed garage entrance, but couldn't see him."We need to go!" she called.
Last Edit: Sept 23, 2015 22:24:06 GMT -5 by Deleted
Dutch instinctively hit the ground as soon as he heard the whistle, it was an unmistakable sound he'd heard many times before. A 60mm Mortar. He assumed that to be Franklin on the commandeered PT Boat. That meant he had to get down there ASAP.
With that he ran towards the river as he heard the whistle again, this time refusing to acknowledge it, or the resulting explosion. As he neared the river he has met with more rotters than he had anticipated to be there. He quickly unsheathed his machete and cut a few down, pushing another out of the way.
When he emerged at the river he saw Franklin manning the mortar, he look uncomfortable with it and it was clear he didn't know how to properly sight it in. "Hey!" Dutch yelled as he ran towards the boat. When he arrived at it he unholstered his new model army and shot the few zeds trying to climb aboard.
"Franklin man, somethin's attracting them. We got upwards of a few thousand marchin this'a way right now! We have to leave!"
One minute Josie had been following in the shadows of the running man and in the next she hit the ground with a hard smack. For a few seconds she felt the disorientation of impact, unable to focus her eyes. She realizes a little too late that her glasses have fallen off, leaving her to trip and break them the second she stands. The entire left lens shattered, while thankfully the right managed to hold on. She could manage without full sight for now, but not for too long.
On instinct she wipes her nose when she feels a wet trickle sliding down from her nostrils. The resulting pain agonizing. Definitely broken. Just her luck.
She scans the distance, spotting the man a ways ahead of her now. Working through the pain she gets a move on, no longer trying to keep hidden with the Growlers on her tail. Though he doesn't seem to notice her, probably investing more of his attention towards the Growlers and his destination. She only hopes that hes heading somewhere safe, maybe even to the spot marked on the map - though she has no time now to check and see.
She bypasses the Growlers as best she can only knocking them away when she has to, trying to keep her eyes on the man. His form in the distance blurry but unmistakably alive. Shes only a few minutes behind him now. Lungs burning with every sharp intake of breath. The fall must have bruised her up something bad, but the adrenaline pumping through her body is enough to keep her going for now. She skids to a halt as she sees a rather imposing PT boat. Weary as she is she knows shes no match against the oncoming Growlers and if they have a boat maybe they would be willing to let her hitchhike for a moment.
"Hey!" She shouts, waving her arms in the air. As far as she can tell theres limited options for her here, either the Growlers get her or the people on the boat do. She just prays that they aren't the type to shoot first.
Franklin spotted Dutch calling out and waving from the levee wall as he ran downhill from the north leg of the Arch. He was followed and emulated by a smaller female he didn't recognize. Franklin started the engine and turned the Coast Guard skiff wide and back facing north as he pulled as close to the western shore as he could. Grabbing his backpack and rifle, the mortar and a 60mm shell, he lifted himself over the levee wall from the boat and plopped down to the narrow street running in front of the Arch. Franklin drew his pistol and started to run up the hill to meet Dutch but noticed a transit bus turning off of Washington and heading his way.
That had to be Billy. Something had to be going very wrong.
To Franklin's horror dozens of walkers appeared between the legs of the Arch heading for the river. They would drop right in front of the museum if they walked off the ledge. Franklin cursed himself for leaving the boat motor running.
Franklin flagged down the bus with his pistol then started up the stairs to the Arch, blowing the heads off of walkers and reloading.
Cua took a few quick steps into the parking structure, walking nearly to the stairwell she'd left the kid at.
"Kid?" she hissed, looking around. Where had the guy gone on one leg in what was soon to be Demon Central?
A noise behind her had Cua whipping around, hopeful, but instead of a gangly teen, she was greeted by the finger of a demon brushing her chin. It grasped at her, wiggling its fingers in clutching motions. Scowling, she drew her knife and lodged it with a swift motion through the thing's temple. It's hands dropped, and then so did the rest of it. She wiped her knife on the body's clothes, and sheathed it at her hip.
Cua scanned the area again. No boy, only more demons. On the street, a few of the dead had crowded near the bus to investigate the gentle rumble of the engine. With a frustrated grunt, Cua stormed back toward the bus, zipping past the demons, closing the door and turning the bus around.
If she couldn't find the kid, the next stop was the museum.
She was gunning through the dead-filled road, when gun shots and a man waving a pistol at her drew her attention. A man and a boat? Was that the way out the kid had been talking about? The man was clearly gesturing at her. It wasn't a long gesture, though. He turned and immediately opened fire on the dozens of demons crowded near the museum.
Cua rammed the accelerator, picking up speed, and swerved, slightly out of control, to a stop in font of the steps. A neat row of bollards stopped her from jumping the bus onto the sidewalk. With those steel barriers in place, she'd have to bring the crew to the bus, not the other way around.
Cua swung her shotgun off it's place on the side of her pack, unzipping the pocket on her pants with the spare rounds. A knife would be too slow for these numbers.
She ran after the man, blasting back the demons in her way. Some she hit in the head, some just collapsed backward with the force of the impact, giving her time. She had to reload once, but endless practice kept the process down to seconds.
As she drew nearer to the man cutting through the dead masses, she turned, firing at the demons approaching from the back. She turned to look over her shoulder. Another man and woman were nearby. The way he was moving toward them, they must be together. Cua rushed ahead, closing in on the group, lifting her gun to blow back a demon, but keeping it lowered otherwise.
"Are those your people inside?" she shouted at them over the gunshots, gesturing with a jerk of her head to the museum.
Last Edit: Sept 24, 2015 8:15:05 GMT -5 by Deleted
Shauna Kelly: That helped, thank you
Oct 4, 2021 14:40:44 GMT -5
Ayita Hunt: dang, January was my last post.. Jeez it's been a hot minute. o7 guys, sorry for the complete disappearance, life got.. a little interesting this year.
Oct 18, 2021 22:34:19 GMT -5