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Topics - Zombie Gunn: Without Sanctuary

Pages: [1] 2 3 ... 11
1
E-Wrestling Roleplaying Showcase / Critique - Without Sanctuary
« on: December 22, 2012, 12:06:23 PM »
Not exactly eWrestling related, but was wondering if I could get some rolling feedback here from anyone following my Facebook project.  It's meant to be a war of the worlds type of writing, where news stories and character developmentcombine to tell a story of a zombie apocalypse, in real time.

Not a whole lot has happened so far, just character development and hints that shot is about to hit the fan. Society is still functioning at this point. So, mainly im curious of opinions on how it's being presented.  I do have a concern about the social media aspect of the story and whether it will be a distraction or if people can follow it.  My theory was that since many of us follow the real life drama of our friends, the medium would be sort of a natural one.

Http://www.Facebook.com/WithoutSanctuary

2
Literature & Comic Books / The Sanctuary Season 2 Episode 4
« on: December 17, 2012, 11:14:50 PM »
Sanctuary Results – Season Two – Without A Bang

Episode Four – Tactical Advantage

I.

Three hummers and two tanks rolled west down Whittier Boulevard.  Each hummer contained four armed men.  In the center vehicle, Michael McCabe sat with his Lieutenant, Santos Amelia.

SANTOS: “It’s just one man…”

McCabe stared out the window.  Not finding Wallace was a devastating blow to his ego.  He worried what it could mean, though he knew the man couldn’t be doing well.  He had inspected the collapsed church tower himself, saw the trail of blood going to the door.  There was a lot of it.

MCCABE: “It’s not just a man… you don’t know what he’s capable of, he… no.  Thankyou, you’re right.  I’m going to get hung up on this too long and delay what’s necessary.”

SANTOS: “So, what’s the next move?”

MCCABE: “I want our presence known throughout the city.  I’ll need pickets placed every five miles in constant contact with us.  Snipers to take out any rogues.”

SANTOS: “How will they know?”

MCCABE: “Yellow armbands.  Have a squad hit a fabric store and get as much yellow cloth as you can find.  In three days, I don’t want a single one of our men to be caught without one on.  Then we take the rest of the city.  Eliminate the competition.  Round up all the infected we can find, load them into the backs of trucks for future use.”

Even as he gave the orders, his mind drifted backwards to another time.


II.

Indonesia, 2003.  In contract with President Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono, McCabe and two others led tactical squads to combat the GAM, a separatist Islamic group that had been plaguing the country for seven years since its rebirth.

McCabe looked up from the map showing the Aceh region of Sumatra.  They were to assassinate a high ranking member of the GAM, which consisted of a paltry 3000 rebels.  Across from him was De La Cruz, without a care in the world and Masters who hid his feelings behind a mask of brutality.

MCCABE: “Hasan di Tiro’s chief deputy is Zaini Mahmud.  The latest intel says that he’s vacationing in Lho-nga with his wife and two daughters.”

He laid a photo of a house onto the map.

MCCABE: “He normally keeps two armed guards within his vicinity at all times.  As you know, they recently received a cache of weapons smuggled in from Thailand.  They are well armed and should be considered so.  We have to take him out or we may not get another chance, any suggestions?”

MASTERS: “Rig his vehicle with explosives.  Wait until he leaves the home and blow ‘em.  Standard procedure.”

MCCABE: “Won’t work.  He has no vehicle present.  In four days, a car will arrive to pick him up.  From there, he’ll disappear.  Impersonating this driver will be impossible, because it’s his cousin Abdullah.”

JORGE: “Take out the two guards silently.  Sneak into the house and extinguish anything that breathes.”

MCCABE: “My thoughts exactly.  The house itself is built on four acres of land, the nearest neighbors are three miles away.  No need to be silent, except that we don’t want to alarm Mahmud until it’s too late for him to make a difference.  Taking out the guards quietly will give us a chance to get the drop on him before he can react.  Once he’s cornered, the job is done and noise won’t be a factor.”

MASTERS: “How do we get close enough?  I can see from the photo that there’s no tree cover within two hundred feet of the house.”

MCCABE: “We do it under cover of darkness.  We go into Lho-nga as tourists.  There’s a villa in town that we’ll have pre-stocked with all the equipment we’ll need.  From there, it’s a four mile hike along the coast to Mahmud’s home.  Masters, what’s that look for?”

MASTERS: “Nothing.  Forget it.”

McCabe knew what he was thinking.  This was their fifth independent assignment since they had been discharged thanks to Wallace’s report.  Masters was thinking what Wallace would be thinking right now.  He was concerned with what would happen with Mahmud’s family once we got in there.  That was none of his concern, though.  Knowing, McCabe smiled thinking about how he had Masters under his thumb.  The old boy wouldn’t say a word against him.  Jorge was too dumb to know any better, but Masters… he was smart and he was a coward.


III.

Clarence looked over at Jacob, who sat quietly on the lower bunk bed.  He didn’t know where Nina or the baby was.  Presumably, they kept women and children in a separate area.  Understandable concerning the present situation of survivors.  They hadn’t spoke yet since waking up.

Captain Kangaroo, as he called himself, had invited them for dinner.  Dinner consisted of rice and beans side by side with three dozen other men.  Everybody spoke pleasantly, and if you had simply listened to the other survivors… there was nothing unusual about the place at all.  It was extremely calming, their nerves lowered dramatically.

A guy named Randall nibbled on a biscuit, talking about how the one thing he’d miss more than anything being bowling nights with his buddies.  He and Jacob weren’t quite ready to divulge all their favorite moments and memories of life before shit hit the fan.  Nina and the baby weren’t present, though Randall assured them that it was normal.  “Separate but equal.”

Dinner had finished and they were brought to a room with a bunk bed.  Clarence looked back at Jacob again, finally speaking.

CLARENCE: “So, what’s the plan?”

JACOB: “Plan?  I don’t have a plan.”

CLARENCE: “We gotta get out of here.”

JACOB: “I know that, Clarence.  But what the fuck do you expect me to do?  Waltz on in to Captain Kangaroo’s cliché office, slam my hands on his desk and demand he let us go?”

Clarence walked out of the room halfway through Jacob’s mockery.  Jacob got up, following him out.

JACOB: “Wait, where are you going?”

Jacob followed him down the hallways, realizing they were headed straight to where he joked.

JACOB: “You do realize I was joking, right?  Clarence?”

Clarence opened the door, seeing Nina with her back turned.  The man calling himself Captain Kangaroo had the baby in his lap, bouncing her on his knee.

CAPTAIN: “Uh, boom-boom-boom, you are such a cutie, aren’t you?  Oh, hey look at this.  It’s some visitors.”

JACOB: “What’s going on?”

CAPTAIN: “Nina here brought over the baby, and she is just so adorable.  You must be a very proud father.”

JACOB: “Woah, hey.  She’s not our kid, we just rescued her.”

The man seemed to smile even wider than he already was.

CAPTAIN: “Oh my, well what happened to the parents?”

JACOB: “The mom was one of the flesh eaters.  Had to blow her head off.”

He didn’t see Nina staring daggers into Jacob.  And wouldn’t know why, even if he had.

CAPTAIN: “Oh, such a shame.  This poor little baby here won’t know any different though.  Years from now, she won’t even be a memory.”

JACOB: “Yeah, well… we just came in here to apologize for the other day.  And thank you for dinner.  The weapons, consider them yours.”

CAPTAIN: “Oh, but I already do.  Thankyou.”

JACOB: “And uh… we were just going to head out now.  Move on, you know.”

CAPTAIN: “I understand.  And you have my blessing, you may leave.”

He made a shooing motion with his hands.  Jacob smiled, motioning for Clarence and Nina.  Nina stepped forward, reaching for the baby.

CAPTAIN: “Now, wait a minute.  What right do you have to this child?”

Jacob’s heart sank into the pit of his stomach.

JACOB: “What?”

The man got a serious look on his face now.

CAPTAIN: “It’s dangerous out there.  And I honestly just can’t see putting this poor child’s life in harms way.  No, I cannot allow her to leave.  You three… you may go, but this little darling is staying put right here.”

NINA: “We’re not leaving without the baby.”

The captain stood up now, extended his right hand with the baby over his left shoulder.

CAPTAIN: “Then welcome to the family.”


IV.

The Journal of Jack Cromwell:

“A lot’s happened since I’ve had time to jot down any notes.  Two days ago, Tanner and Art got killed by a couple guys shooting at us from the rooftop.  Rather than investigate further, we set our heels to pavement and got out.  Riggs and Gavin bitching the whole way, the stretcher bobbing this way and that, the sleeper nearly fallen off.  I knew shaking him up was no good, but nothing I could do.  We had to get the fuck out.”

“We eventually stopped in Glendale, running into a family that was also headed north.  Come to find out, the guys shooting at us were likely part of McCabe’s group.  A military outfit that get this… started before all the shit hit the fan.  Somehow, the guy knew what was going to happen and got his chickens in a row before it happened.  They parted company and we were on our way.  Izzal in front, watching for trouble.  Jin at the rear.  The pack mules, Gavin and Riggs in the center hauling the sleeper.  You’d think with Izzal and Jin so far apart, they’d stop messing with each other.  You’d also think that the sight of rotting flesh or a companion falling would be enough to make them forget their petty fued.  Not these two.  We were walking through Burbank when Jin got an idea and fired a couple shots over all our heads.  It was meant to spook Izzal, but all of us ducked down.  Izzal started firing madly at the apartment buildings, meanwhile Jin was laughing his ass off behind us.”

“’Cease Fire!’ Sean called out, but Izzal couldn’t hear him over the sound of the gun.”

“Cindy was closest, so she had the honors of slapping him on the face.  Izzal stopped firing, and looked back at the rest of us, just staring at him.  Jin in the back practically rolling on the floor.  Izzal got up and started yelling all sorts of profanity at Jin, only half of which were English.  Cindy and AJ tried to restrain him, and the sight must have sobered Jin.  He stopped laughing, not really getting it though.  This was the first time Izzal had shown any real anger, up until then it was all practical jokes and laughs, even if untimely ones.  Things were getting to him though.”

“Donnovan was the only one on the ball, watching for the obvious threat.  After a moment, he grabbed me by the shirt and pointed down the street.  At least a dozen flesh eaters were on their way.”

“’Uh… guys, we have company.’ I yelled out.  It was too late to run.  This street had no alleys, and if they did they likely led to dead ends.  Sean took charge, dividing us up.  He put Izzal and Jin closest to each other, directly in the center of the street.  Sent AJ, Gavin and Riggs to the opposites sidewalk as us.  Sean, Donnovan, Cindy and I stayed on this side, readied our weapons.  In the center of the street, Izzal and Jin climbed onto a box truck.  Jin actually lent a hand to help Izzal up.  You know they were scared when they actually put their fued aside to be serious a moment.  They setup on the top of the truck as the horde got nearer.  By now, we could just see a long column of them.  At least four dozen, probably more.  The buildings were emptying out, which is why we were each on the sidewalks.  We each carried pistols and were watching the closest buildings.  If anything deadish got out alive, we were to send them back.  Thus far, only two or three on our side got out.  I wasn’t sure about across the way.”

“The sound was incredible.  The horde must have just gotten into range, because Izzal began firing.  Jin covered the rear, but only a couple dozen ever emerged from that side.  Picking them off was easy.  Suddenly, my temporary distraction to watch the two clowns bit me in the ass.  Well, not literally.  I’d be dead, otherwise.  But an infected had jumped out a second story window, completely oblivious to the idea of heights.  It actually moaned in hunger and rage even while it fell.  Damn near landed on me, clipping my shoulder.  I dropped the gun.  Stupid.  Luckily, Donnovan was there.  He fired two shots, each one hit the thing in the head.  Now, in the stairwell in front of us an entire family of them stormed out, blood curdling screams of hatred filling the air.  Cindy and Donnovan mostly took care of them.  Sean was as useless as tits on a boar.  I was only a bit less.  I hazarded a glance behind me, seeing the infected horde growing closer.  Nearly a hundred lay in the street, either dead or immobile.  Izzal had ran out of ammo and Jin now was firing in that direction.  They switched off effortlessly, as if they had done this for years.  Izzal reloaded, then went to cover the rear where only another 6 or 8 were emerging.  The infected… they just kept coming.  The fallen horde had formed into a hill of corpses, and the emerging infected were crawling over them.  For all the good it did them.  They just made the hill higher.  Soon, the noise subsided as most had been killed.  A few more were on the other side of the corpse barrier, but were unable to climb it.”

“Izzal was shaking, I could see.  We had spent at least half our ammo, that I was sure of.  The two of them needed help climbing down.  Nobody said a word for a long time.  Nobody had to.  Eventually, I did a quick headcount… realized we were missing somebody.  AJ.  Poor kid, he lay on the other side of the street.  The Sleeper had pulled through.  I don’t know how, I had completely forgot about him.  I guess the infected must not have noticed him or considered him as much of a threat, just lying there motionless.  The moving flesh was more appealing, you could say.”

“We set out with a stern word at Jin, reprimanding him for the joke that cost AJ his life and nearly the rest of ours.  There were now nine of us left.  Jin out in front this time, Cindy and Donnovan close behind him.  Riggs and Gavin hauling the sleeper.  Sean and I behind them, with Izzal watching the rear.  It was survival.  It was what we had to do.  Nearly two hundred infected lay dead or immobilized behind us.  Must have cleared out five blocks of infected from Burbank.  The citizens can thank us later.  For now, we just headed north.  By the time I got down to write this, we were in the canyons north of San Fernando, camped out under the stars.  Still about a thousand miles from our goal.”


V.

McCabe peered through nightvision goggles.  Masters was in position on the other side of the house.  De La Cruz was out of sight, but Masters could see him.  Masters signaled him that all was clear.  McCabe and Masters began to move.  Silently, simultaneously, they both edged forward out of the treeline.  The guards were on the porch, one asleep in a chair and the other looking out towards the driveway.  McCabe clapped a hand over the guard’s mouth, cut his throat then broke his neck.  He turned around, just as Masters reached the sleeping guard.  He covered that one’s mouth, dug a knife into his lung.  The guard kicked a bit, but Masters had it under control.  He twisted the guard’s head around practically backwards, snapping his neck and ending his movement.

McCabe breathed into his transmitter in no more than a whisper.

MCCABE: “Sloppy, Masters.  De La Cruz, any sign of activity in the back.”

DE LA CRUZ: “Negative.  Still asleep.”

MCCABE: “Keep an eye on that window.  We’re going in.”

McCabe climbed onto the porch, not worrying about creaking boards.  They would be accustomed to the sound of their guards.  They each went to opposite sides of the front door.  McCabe checked the knob, unlocked.  Silently, he swung the door open and stepped in.  Masters was behind him checking the corners.  No sign.  Silently, he crossed the living room to the kitchen.  Nothing.  McCabe turned around, saw the little girl standing in the hallway.  Masters got her first, hitting her in the head with the butt of his gun.

MCCABE: “You’re getting soft, Masters.”

Again in barely more than a whisper.  That’s all that was necessary.  McCabe saw something out of the corner of his eye, turned faster than lightning and raised his gun.  The man dove at him with a machete.  Too late to shoot.  He dodged out of the way, the blade clipping his forearm.

MCCABE: “Fuck!”

Masters covered him, planting a bullet in the man’s chest.  He toppled to the ground just as the lights turned on.  McCabe and Masters flipped their night vision onto their heads and whirled in the other direction.  Another girl, about 14 was in the hall.

GIRL: “Ayah?”

She saw her sister crumpled on the floor, blood coming from a cut on her forehead.  Saw her father bleeding on the floor, barely alive.  She took off screaming.

MCCABE: “De La Cruz, you got company.”

DE LA CRUZ: “I see her.”

The wife came out next, but this time McCabe was ready.  He took out a knife and stuck her in the stomach as she rounded the corner.  She let out a horrible scream, and collapsed onto the floor.  The knife still stuck in her belly.

MASTERS: “McCabe, that’s enough.”

MCCABE: “Oh, it’s never enough.”

De La Cruz emerged from the bedroom area with the teenage girl.  Her wrists were bound with a ziptie.

DE LA CRUZ: “Look what I found.”

MASTERS: “Let’s finish with Mahmud and get out of here.”

The girl was rambling incoherently, crying to her mother.  Her mother was crying back to her in much the same manner.

MCCABE: “I see no reason to rush.  Not when the spoils of war are plentiful.”

De La Cruz gave an evil smile.  Masters was staring daggers at McCabe.

MASTERS: “This is not why we came here.”

He raised his gun to finish off Mahmud.  McCabe put a hand on the barrel, lowering it.

MCCABE: “No, let him watch.  If you don’t want to, you can wait outside.”

Masters stared at him a moment, then swallowed his words and walked out.  He sat on the porch, hating himself.  Hating McCabe and De La Cruz.  But mostly himself.  They were off the reservation, no longer working for America and its interests.  Instead, they were hired mercenaries.  Men without souls.  The sounds emerging from the house only did more to cement the hatred that he felt.  He got to thinking about Wallace, thinking that maybe he should have gone with him.  More than anything he wished for a normal life, to forget the horrors of what he’s seen.  The horrors that he’s done.

Nineteen men, he had killed.  Four women.  But never children.  And never did he partake in the evil desires that McCabe did.  It was getting bad in there.  He got up and walked down the driveway a bit, trying not to hear what was happening.  Trying not to think of the faces of all those he had killed.  This was it.  The last time he’d go along with McCabe and De La Cruz.  Honor was the only thing keeping him from leaving right now, abandoning the mission and becoming a farmer like Wallace.  And the money.  God damn if it wasn’t good money.


VI.

Johnston looked at the photograph.

JOHNSTON: “Is that… a pyramid?”

KELLY: “In a way.  Look closer, those aren’t bricks.”

Johnston had a hard time seeing, since the photograph was taken from such a great distance.  Finally, he saw the shapes jutting out.  It wasn’t a perfect pyramid, but it amounted to the same.  It was corpses, all piled on top of each other.  Some care had gone into it though, making it into that shape.

JOHNSTON: “The fuck?”

KELLY: “There’s a museum at Golden Gate Park.  Much as I can tell, they’re using this pyramid both to deter living guests and to attract the nonliving ones.  The scout reported that he couldn’t get anywhere near the park itself, which is why this photo was taken from so far away.  But he think they’re inside the museum.  They’ve also got pickets setup in various buildings surrounding the park.”

JOHNSTON: “Pickets?”

KELLY: “Look outs.  Watches.  They’re scattered throughout the entire area.  They’ll report anything out of the ordinary before we even get close.”

JOHNSTON: “So, we take out the pickets first.”

KELLY: “I’m telling you this because I respect what you’ve been through and your willingness to help.  I’m not telling you for your opinion or strategy.  You’re a helicopter pilot.  Leave the thinking to those trained for it.”

JOHSNTON: “Jesus Christ, you guys are a laugh.  Just how many campaigns have you fought with zombies trying to eat you?”

Kelly didn’t respond, but simply walked away.  The next morning, they readied themselves for battle.  The scouts hadn’t been able to report back any definitive numbers on how many militants were in that area.  He had identified at least five pickets, but there was no hope in discovering them all.  From the map, Kelly and Rusch had identified three other likely points.

KELLY: “We haven’t seen any surface to air missiles in their possession.  So, until we know differently we must assume that we have a tactical advantage with the air.  We have three pilots among us.  We gather all our supplies and prepare for war, but we go here.  Buena Vista Park.  From there, we send one helicopter to fly over Golden Gate.  Circle there for a while, make sure my suspicions are correct and that they can’t shoot us down.  Then return.  Anything out of the ordinary happens or if they fire RPGs, you get the hell out of there.”

JOHNSTON: “I noticed you’re looking at me.  That mean I get the lucky job?”

KELLY: “You’re our least experienced pilot.  Sorry to say, but if you don’t make it back at least we have our combat pilots to go in there and do some damage.”

JOHNSTON: “That’s fucked…”

KELLY: “As I said before, I highly doubt they have RPGs.  They’re not the kind of weapon that would be a lot of help in this sort of situation.  They’ll just be unlucky enough to wish they had them.”

Half an hour later, they all took to the air.  Johnston’s helicopter contained Quinonez and two other soldiers he had not been introduced to.  Kelly’s chopper led the way to the park.  While the other two landed, Johnston flew out to the park.

The park itself is a rectangle, two and a half miles east to west and 3000 feet north to south.  The far west end has a small golf course, while the east end contains the museums.  The pyramid of corpses is just to the south of the museums.  Johnston circled the area a few times, peering down at everything.

QUINONEZ: “You’re going to have to go lower.  I can’t see anything.  Besides, if they have RPGs they won’t be able to use them from this distance.”

JOHNSTON: “You say that like I want them to be used.”

QUINONEZ: “We have to test their strength, that’s why we’re here.”

Johnston grudgingly lowered the helicopter on his next pass.  The smell of the rotting corpses began to drift in through the open window, making him nauseous.

JOHNSTON: “I don’t  see anybody.”

QUINONEZ: “Weird.  Wait, there.”

Quinonez pointed and now Johnston saw.  Four men stood near a water fountain, watching them.  Suddenly, gunfire rattled against the helicopter.

JOHSNTON: “FUCK!”

QUINONEZ: “No RPGs, I guess.”

JOHNSTON: “A bullet can still puncture something.  I’m pulling up.”

QUINONEZ: “No, wait.  Men, return fire.”

The two soldiers in the back began firing out the side with mounted machine guns.  They took out a couple of the men from the fountain.  A few more began firing from the windows of the museum and they began firing that way.  Suddenly, the helicopter began to shake and an alarm started blaring.

JOHNSTON: “Fuck.  They hit something.  I’m getting out of here.”

Johnston finished turning the helicopter around, but then more machine gun fire came.

QUINONEZ: “Pull up!”

JOHNSTON: “I’m trying.  The controls won’t respond.”

The ground began to come closer.  He was still in the slow turn, but losing altitude.  Johnston tried pressing the blinking alarm button, but it didn’t help.  They were now a thousand feet from the ground.

JOHNSTON: “We’re going down, damn it.  I’ll see if I can’t get us as far from the park as possible though.”

QUINONEZ: “The streets are too crowded there to land.  Go for the west end of the park.  Try to land at the golf course.”

JOHNSTON: “Got news for you, sunshine.  We’re not going to land at all.  Everybody, you better fasten yourselves in and hold on.”

More machine gun fire from the museum, a bullet pierced the cockpit glass.  Four hundred feet from the ground.  The golf course looked like a distant dream.  The small lake looked like the more likely place to crash.

QUINONEZ: “We’re going to hit the water.”

JOHNSTON: “I know.  It can’t be that deep though, and it’ll cushion our fall.  Everybody hang on.”

CRASH!

Johnston opened his eyes, water pooling in all around him.  He unstrapped his belt, saw Quinonez was already swimming away.  Johnston unstrapped himself, thought quickly and grabbed the radio.  He held it up, keeping it out of the water as he waded away from the helicopter.  The other two soldiers were now swimming away as well.  They got to the shore, soaked to the bone but nobody hurt.  Yet.  Machine gun fire ripped through the trees ahead of them.  Johnston ducked down while Quinonez and the other two soldiers returned fire.  One of the two got hit, fell over and landed in the water.  He didn’t move again.

QUINONEZ: “Johnston, call for help!”

JJ flipped on the radio, heard Kelly’s voice bellowing and demanding to know what’s happening.  He finished and JJ sent the message.

JOHNSTON: “We were hit by machine gun fire.  The helicopter went down.  One man down.”

As he said this, the other soldier was now hit.  Quinonez cursed.

JOHNSTON: “Scratch that, two men down.  Just me and Quinonez left.  No RPG fire that we’ve seen.  But we need help, fast!  We won’t hold out long.”

Johnston dropped the radio and picked up one of the soldiers guns.  He sent a spray of bullets into the trees, not really knowing what to aim for and not wanting to poke his head out enough to get a line of sight.  More gunfire came from behind them now, the other side of the pond.  The helicopter behind them gave them a little cover, but not much.  They were surrounded.  But in the distance, they could hear the sounds of helicopter rotors.  Would they get there in time?


VII.

Richie and Eddie York were travelling through San Francisco, when they saw it.  A pileup of cars, at least forty of them.  Completely blocked the highway.  Thirty miles ago, they had swapped out the blood soaked truck for a Jeep Cherokee, but if they were going to keep their motorized transportation, they wouldn’t be able to use the freeway for it.  They backtracked down the highway, finding an exiting onto Central Freeway, then using the sidestreets to get to Highway 1.

Unfortunately for them, Highway 1 runs through Golden Gate Park and Golden Gate Park is controlled by a man named Ian Staziak.

Richie looked out the front window at the squad of soldiers in front of them.  Richie rolled down the window.

RICHIE: “It’s about time.  You know, you’re the first sign of military we’ve seen since the Sierra.  What the fuck’s going on here?”

The men looked at each other a moment, then the one closest began to speak.

SOLDIER: “Not sure, but the world sure has gone to hell.  If you’ll proceed this way to the park we’ll get you checked in.”

RICHIE: “Checked in?”

SOLDIER: “Anyone passing through San Francisco has to check in, state their business and turn over all weapons.”

Richie looked over to Eddie, who was silent.  For once.

RICHIE: “Do you really think that’s wise?  With these things everywhere, I mean… it’s only for our personal protection.”

SOLDIER: “I don’t make the rules, I just enforce them.  You can leave your weapons here.  But drive down this road to the museum, that’s where they’re at.”

EDDIE: “We’re not turning over our guns.  It’s ridiculous.  Come on, Richie… let’s get out of here.”

The soldier then aimed his gun right at Richie.

SOLDIER: “Tried playing nice.  Do as I say or I will kill you.”

RICHIE: “Just give him the fucking gun, Eddie.”

Eddie sighed, handed over his weapon to the soldier on his side of the vehicle.  Richie likewise gave his gun to the man closest to him.  The soldier lowered his weapon and waved them through.  As they drove, Richie and Eddie went back to arguing.

RICHIE: “What was that shit about?  These are the soldiers.  It’s they’re job to kill these things, not ours.”

EDDIE: “It’s just some bureaucratic bullshit, Richie.  We haven’t seen a single soldier until we got here.  What makes you think they’re actually trying to kill these things.”

RICHIE: “If you’d open your fucking EYES and LOOK!”

Ahead of them, a pyramid of corpses lay on the lawn leading up to the museum.

EDDIE: “Holy…”

They drove in silence for the next minute as they pulled up to the museum.  Once there, they were greeted by the man himself, Ian Staziak.

STAZIAK: “How can I help you gentlemen?”

RICHIE: “They said we had to check in.”

Staziak’s smile grew large.

STAZIAK: “Did they?  My, they are clever aren’t they?  I suppose they had you hand over your guns as well?”

Richie and Eddie were now out of the vehicle.  Eddie looked over at Richie, giving him an eye that seemed to say ‘I told you so.’

Before anything else could be said, a helicopter began circling above.  Staziak seemed particularly interested as did the armed man with him.  After a moment, Staziak took out a radio.

STAZIAK: “I want that helicopter taken down, immediately.”

Moments later gunfire emerged from the museum.  The man next to Staziak began firing as well.  Richie and Eddie ducked down by the side of the Jeep.  After another moment, the helicopter began returning fire.  The soldier next to Staziak was hit.  Staziak himself ducked down near Richie and Eddie.

RICHIE: “What the hell’s going on?”

STAZIAK: “Just a few of my rivals, it appears.”

RICHIE: “Rivals?”

STAZIAK: “Oh, come off it.  You don’t actually still think we’re part of the U.S. Government, do you?  You two must be the biggest idiots this side of the Mississippi.”

After a few minutes, the helicopter looked to be hit badly.  It began swaying back and forth and slowly declining.  Staziak got on the radio.

STAZIAK: “That’s it.  It’s headed for the west end of the park.  Cut them off on both sides.  I want as many taken alive as possible.  Only kill those necessary.”

He turned to the York brothers.

STAZIAK: “If you’ll excuse me, I have some work to be done.”

He yelled out to a couple of soldiers that were passing, motioned them towards the York brothers.  Without a word, they understood and rounded on them.  Before Richie and Eddie knew what was happening, their arms were being tied and they were being hauled off into the Museum.

ELIMINATED – Richie & Eddie York - Detained


VIII.

Fnord cursed at his luck.  He was an asshole, that much was true.  But he didn’t deserve this.  He kicked a rock about twenty feet ahead.  Looking around, he figured he must be near the Illinois and Iowa border.  He had helped these people, had gone against his better judgement and actually helped them.

FNORD: “Just my luck, the one time I actually do something nice for somebody it comes to bite me in the ass.  Just as well… I should have known not to go helping people.”

He spoke to himself as he wandered west down 88, hoping maybe he could hitch a ride.  The problem was that the family was the first life he had seen since leaving Chicago.  He didn’t know how to hotwire a car and thus far, nobody was kind enough to leave their keys behind.

FNORD: “I need a nice little hot rod.  Maybe an old Mustang or a Viper.  Yeah, why don’t I ever come across something sweet like that?  It’s the end of the world and everything is mine.”

He had drove with them west for a couple hours learning all about them.  He had shared his philosophy on life, on how you can only look out for yourself and expressed how different he had been when saving them.  He wasn’t a hero, that much he could be sure of.  After a while he stopped at a gas station to load up on supplies.  While he was inside, they took off with his car!

FNORD: “I mean, the nerve of them.  I saved THEM!  Against my better judgement, mind you.  I leave the keys in the car as a sign of faith.  And they took it.  Just left me there to die.  Who would do something like that?”

He picked up the rock he had been kicking and threw it as far away as he could.  Just his luck, it managed to hit something.  The thing it hit had once been called Susan, once been a grandmother of seven children.  Had once spent her free hours knitting and eating rhubarb.  More recently, her pastimes include eating human flesh and moaning.  The rock hit her in the shoulder, getting her attention.  She turned around, saw Fnord and let out an old lady zombie scream.

FNORD: “Oh fuck.”

All his weapons had been in the car.  All his drugs too, which was the biggest setback at the time.  Now, he wished more for the weapons.  He looked around, looking for anything he could find that would help him.  Nothing.  Not even another rock.  Instead, he simply took off in a run.

The old lady gave chase, tripping on her own ankle length nightgown, ripping it off.  Now Fnord was being chased by a naked old lady zombie, running for his life.  The highway looked endless ahead of him, a completely flat terrain without a single object that he could use.  The old lady closed in fast, running on bruised and bleeding bare feet.  Her breasts flopped menacingly as she closed in.  He could hear her coming closer.  He could feel the pain in his legs growing.  His chest was getting tight, not liking the exercise.

Was this it?  Is this how he’d die?  Eaten to death by a nude granny?  Hardly the way that such a superior asshole such as himself should go.  It was with these thoughts that he felt her hands grasp at the back of his shirt.  Ahead of him, he saw three more infected coming his way.

ELIMINATED – Fnord – Surrounded

3
Literature & Comic Books / The Sanctuary: Season 2 Episode 3
« on: October 24, 2012, 09:48:36 AM »
Sanctuary Results – Season Two – Without A Bang

Episode Three – Safety in Numbers

I.

The Journal of Jack Cromwell:

“We picked him up yesterday.  Technically, he makes number eleven to our group.  I say technically because he isn’t actually contributing much.  We had been moving down East Olympic when we came across a veterinary clinic.  I stopped in there to see what supplies I could get.  In my profession, medicine can make the difference between life and death.  That’s when we found him.  Unconscious and missing a lot of blood, but otherwise alive.  Looked like some sort of blunt force trauma to his ribs.  He had a broken tibia in his left leg, possibly crushed.  From his pupil dilation, looked like he had a concussion.  It took some convincing, but I talked the rest of the gang into taking him with us.”

“The rest of the gang, well… there’s now eleven of us.  The mystery man dubbed The Sleeper by Izzal.  Izzal was a real joker.  Always pulling a prank or two on somebody, but mostly on Jin.  Those two had made themselves into lighthearted enemies, always pulling the leg of the other.  You’d think that with all that’s happen they’d lose their sense of humor.  But not them two.  Each is fond of automatic weapons, so that’s what they carry.  Then there’s Riggs and Gavin.  Dumber than shit, those two and lousy with a gun.  But they get things done.  Give them a hole to dig and they’ll dig it.  Right now, they’re hauling the sleeper on a homemade stretcher.  Donnovan is a little project of mine.  The guy hasn’t said a word since we found him, back to the wall in an alley fighting off the undead.  I know he’s got a story in there, but he ain’t telling.  Almost as quiet is Cindy, the only girl in the group.  She’s nineteen, shy as can but she’s got a sense about her… like she could take care of herself, but chooses to get help anyway.  Sean is the man in charge, and he’ll be sure to make sure we all know it.  If you ask me, I think it’s a bit of Napoleon syndrome.  Nice guy when things are calm and relaxed, tough as nails when in a crisis.  Tanner was a videogame designer.  Says he worked on the last Simcity game.  I played that game and it sucked.  Arthur, or Art as he likes to be called (nobody ever calls him that) is an old pervert.  Pushing 60 if he’s 30, and constantly watching Cindy’s ass when she isn’t looking.  Lastly, there’s AJ.  A fourteen year old boy, who I get the impression looks at all this like a real life video game.  Poor kid. My name’s Jack Cromwell.  I’m an ER doctor.  Or, I was… before all this.  I guess you could say I’m more prepared for disasters than the average joe, but it sure as hell been a shock to the senses.  Some people, when they reach the pinnacle of their profession can do their job in a blind trance-like state.  They close out everything else around them and focus specifically on what they have to do.  Well, not in my field.  In my work, they teach you to constantly be alert of your surroundings and what you’re doing.  You can’t blank out and think about how you haven’t slept in two days and decide what you’re going to eat at the end of your 20 hour shift.  You have to have your mind set clearly on what you’re doing and what you’re going to do if it turns out the gunshot victim happens to be a rare bloodtype.  So now, I look around at all that’s happened… all that’s happening, and I take in every damn moment of it.  I see it all and it depresses the shit out of me.”

“The only ones that really complained about taking on The Sleeper were Riggs and Gavin, since Sean told them to do the carrying.  Everybody else either agreed or was so indifferent that I could have offered to take on Charles Manson and they probably wouldn’t have noticed.  Where are we headed?  Well, North.  We started off at the border with Mexico, each of us getting the idea that it would be better down there.  We’d seen how the government was handling things here, and frankly… figured we stood a better chance of survival in a place where the police and military didn’t give a damn than in a place where they’d shoot anything that moved.  The thing is, the smoke billowing out over the horizon to the south of us was so ominous I knew it was a lost cause.  That’s when I met up with the rest of the gang.  One of them got a wild hair, (I think it was Izzal) that Canada may be better off.  Something about the cold that would hurt them.  So, ever since then… we’ve been moving north.  We found The Sleeper in Los Angeles.  We hadn’t come across anybody else living since then.”

“Honestly, I don’t really know why I felt so compelled to bring him.  He was dead weight, didn’t even know his real name.  He had a military radio on him and lots of weapons but that doesn’t mean anything to us.  Maybe it’s the ER doctor in me, always wanting to put all my energy into saving an unknown man that was probably beyond saving.  I don’t know why.  They always turn out to be the bottom of the barrel, people that most would consider not worth living.  But it’s just something in me.  Something that tells me, that it’s the right thing.  And in this world… when people are killing and eating each other, and when the ones that aren’t are just killing out of fear… well, this is all I have left.”


II.

David stepped into the gas station shop, gun armed.  In front of him was Brennan who had his gun aimed at something in the dark.  David didn’t see anything.  He fumbled for a light switch, not thinking that duh… the power’s out.

BRENNAN: “I see you, asshole.”

The response is not what they expected.  A woman began wailing, another sound like a child crying.  They must have been keeping as quiet as possible.

WOMAN: “Oh, please don’t kill her.  I’ll do anything.”

Brennan glanced at David, uneasily.

DAVID: “Come over here where we can see you.”

The woman and her child came out of the shadows, unarmed.  She looked to be in her late twenties, a six year old girl clinging to her leg.  Her hands were raised and tears fell from her eyes.

WOMAN: “Please… just let my daughter go.”

BRENNAN: “We’re not going to kill you, are you alright?  Is there anyone else?”

The woman just let out another sob.  The child seemed to have let out all the tears she had, and now just had a sour look on her face.

DAVID: “Are there more of them?  Did they hurt you?”

The woman looked at them, shocked.  She looked back and forth between the two of them.

WOMAN: “Why are you doing this to us?  Why can’t you people just leave us alone?”

DAVID: “We’re trying to help.  Do you need anything?”

The child looked outside, noticing the dead man that Brennan had killed.

CHILD: “Mommy, what’s wrong with Daddy?”

Their hearts sank to the pit of their stomachs.  Brennan’s shoulders sagged and all the life seemed to drain from his eyes.  David, on the other hand, seemed to be enraged.  He turned his confusion into anger.

DAVID: “You’re with them?  Why were you shooting at us?”

WOMAN: “Please, you don’t understand.  After what we’ve been through… after what those men tried to do last time, Hank… he was afraid.  He just wanted to protect us.”

DAVID: “You gotta be fucking kidding me?  You don’t fucking shoot into a vehicle without as much as a warning.  You don’t fucking try to kill two innocent people for no god damn reason!”

BRENNAN: “David, come on… let’s go.”

DAVID: “Go where?  Look at the car!  It’s fucking wrecked.”

The girl began crying again.

BRENNAN: “David, come on.  Now.”

He grabbed David by the arm and led him away from the scene.  There was nothing more they could do there.


III.

Devin woke, startled by a nightmare.  The sun had just risen.  Sitting across from the small campfire was his father, Vlad.  If he could get used to saying that he could get used to anything.  He sat up, noticing a rock that had been under his back all night.  He grabbed the rock and tossed it.  Vlad looked up, staring with his disapproving eyes.

DEVIN: “So, what does today hold?”

VLAD: “Today, I teach you to be a man.”

Devin didn’t like the sound of that, but he didn’t know enough of what that meant to give any real protest.  He admired Vlad, and hated him at the same time.  The man was arrogant and condescending.  He had abused his mother, had abandoned them both before he was born and had no interest in the fact that he even existed until he nearly ran him over on the highway.

DEVIN: “What’s for breakfast?”

Vlad was sharpening a knife, and did not reply.  After a few moments, Vlad stood.

VLAD: “Get your stuff.  Let’s go.”

His father evidently didn’t intend on showing any empathy today.  Devin gathered his stuff into his backpack and hoisted it onto his shoulders.  After twenty minutes of walking, Devin’s shoulders ached.  The small of his back felt raw from something poking through his pack and his knees were protesting loudly.  He wasn’t much into sports and this sort of outdoors shit was going to kill him before it made him any stronger.

Soon, Vlad halted with a raised fist.  He hunkered down, so Devin did the same.  Devin looked ahead, seeing a small gathering of three infected feasting on something near the riverbank.  Vlad had eyes like a hawk and knew exactly what was happening, but to Devin’s untrained eyes… it just looked like a mess.  Finally, Vlad whispered to Devin.

VLAD: “Take this gun.  It’s silenced.”

Devin took the gun, feeling the dead weight of it and cradling it in his palms like it might accidentally go off if you looked at it funny.

VLAD: “I want you to practice shooting.”

DEVIN: “Shouldn’t I do target practice or something?  Shoot wine bottles or aluminum cans?”

VLAD: “Wine bottles will not chase you down and kill you if you miss.  This weapon is silenced, they won’t hear the shots and if you stay hidden they won’t know where it’s coming from.”

DEVIN: “But…”

VLAD: “Kill them, son.”

Devin’s eyebrows lowered.  He aimed the gun, squinted his eyes.  Pulled the trigger.  Didn’t even hit the water.  The bullet skidded off in the dirt about fifteen feet shy of the feast.

VLAD: “Like this…”

Vlad took Devin’s other hand and placed it on the pistol.

VLAD: “Use both hands.  Now, don’t close your eyes.  Keep the gun directly in front of you and aim.”

Devin tried one more time, this time doing as he said.  He fired, hitting one of them in the leg.  Devin nearly jumped for joy, but thought better of it at the last minute.  The wounded creature looked around, unharmed but now alert.

VLAD: “Get on one knee.  Aim again.”

Devin did this, fired again.  BULLSEYE!  Right above the ear.  The infected dropped to the ground.  Now, the other two infected stood up looking around, snarling.

VLAD: “Now, kill the others.”

After saying this, Vlad took his knife and stabbed it into the dirt before slinked away behind Devin.

DEVIN: “Where are you going?”

Vlad was now twenty feet behind him, walking away with his back turned.  He yelled at the top of his lungs.

VLAD: “I’M MAKING YOU INTO A MAN!”

Devin’s heart skipped a beat.  He turned back to the infected who had heard him yell.  They both began charging right at Devin.  He fired without thinking, the bullet sailing through the sky unseen.  He caught himself, steadied his breathing, took aim.  Fired.  The closest one went down.  He took aim again.  Click.  No bullets?  The gun wasn’t fully loaded.  The zombie closed in.  Devin grabbed the knife out of the dirt, rose just in time and planted it just under the jaw of the thing.  Now dead, the full weight of it collapsed onto Devin.  Devin fell back, rolled down the levee and into the shallow section of the river.

DEVIN: “Holy-“

He stopped midsentence, seeing the dead woman that the infected had feasted on.  It was Aimee.  Her legs were gone, her stomach devoured and her throat torn out.  She still stared up at the sky in feeble shock.  Devin stared at her for a while before Devin came behind him.  He put a hand on his shoulder, though only briefly.

VLAD: “This is what happens if you don’t think.  If you make mistakes.  If you become weak.  Her death was unnecessary, but it proves a point to you now.  If you’re going to survive, you have to be ruthless.  You have to be strong.  Most of all, you have to think and have a backup plan should the unexpected occur.”

DEVIN: “The gun wasn’t fully loaded.”

VLAD: “You can never count on it being that way.  Always plan for the worst.  Never let fear overcome your sense of reason.”

DEVIN: “You turned your back on me.”

VLAD: “Twice.”


IV.

The Journal of Jack Cromwell:

“Today was rough.  If you can call the death of two of your companions a rough day.  We were about five miles north of where we picked up The Sleeper.  Tanner was in the lead, carrying a machete.  Tanner, I never did find out his first name.  Anyway, I didn’t even get a scream out of him.  One minute, we were walking along like everything was normal.  Izzal and Jin were fucking around, insulting each other’s mothers.  Donnovan was silent as always.  I was trying to talk to him, trying to figure out his story.”

“’That tattoo, USMC.  Guess that means you were in the Marines, right?’  I asked him.  He just looked at me.  His typical response.  Then, he just tensed up.  Like he saw something but didn’t know what it was.  Next thing I know, bullets are flying.  Tanner was hit in the neck.  Damn near took his head off.  We all ducked down.  Izzal and Jin started spraying bullets in the general direction as the opposing fire.  Me, being the hero that I am, started looking for cover.  I ducked behind a dumpster, with Cindy joining me next.

“’They’re up on the roof, third building form the left.’  That was Sean.  Don’t know how he saw them from his vertically challenged state.  I squinted and vaguely saw movement up there.  Then I saw something flying.  Poor Arthur, Art, whatever his name is… caught the grenade like it was a fucking tennis ball.  Boom.  I’m still wearing pieces of him.  Don’t know what the hell he was thinking.  Izzal and Jin kept firing.  When one had to change a clip, the other covered him.  Soon, there was no more return fire coming our way.  ‘After them.’  Sean yelling again.”

“’No fucking way,’ AJ yelled out.  He was huddled beside me and I didn’t even realize it.  ‘They’re gone, I say we get the hell out of here.’  I tended to agree.  Sean reluctantly agreed and we grabbed our shit and took off.  Still feel sorry for Riggs and Gavin, carrying The Sleeper at a run as we ducked down an alley.  After twenty or so minutes, we felt like we had lost them and took a break.  None of us said anything about Tanner or Arthur.  Nobody had to.  We were beginning to grow accustomed to loss.”


V.

Somewhere along Highway 80, federal agents Sonya Wilkins and Frederick Solo, along with non-federal non-agent Daniel Cayman, bounce along in the back of a thoroughly wrecked pickup truck. Solo and Cayman keep their hands on their heads, as requested by the owners of the vehicle, two of whom stand in the back, leaning against the cab, each keeping a Steyr TMP submachine gun directed at their prisoners. Sonya doesn't comply with the request, as she still hasn't recovered from being struck across the head, and now lays flat between guards and prisoners, rocking back and forth as the truck rolls onwards.

SOLO: You know, you guys really need to fix the suspension on this thing - it's bad enough back here, I'd hate to be driving when we go over a railway crossing or something.

GUARD: I thought I told ya to shut up!

CAYMAN: You did, he's ignoring you.

GUARD: And you too!

CAYMAN: Sorry.

The ride continues to pass in silence, aside from the occasional backfire from the engine.

Eventually, a sign flits past the truck - and then they have crossed over the threshold of a small town, as double-storey buildings rise into view, along with streetlights and sidewalks, but no people, no movement, no life.

SOLO: Nice place. Remind me to come back over the summer sometime.

GUARD: I told you - !

Solo puts two fingers to his mouth and makes a zipping motion.

With a screech from the tires, the truck turns and drives off the road onto a dirt path, before coming to a stop before a tall wooden fence with a gate in it, topped with barbed wire. At an unseen signal, the gate is unlatched and pulled open by two more men wearing typical farmers' clothes, each with a bolt-action rifle hung over their shoulder. The truck rolls on through the gate and straight into an open barn, before the engine is finally shut off. One of the guards on the back of the vehicle gestures 'out' with the barrel of his gun, and both Solo and Cayman oblige, stepping out over the back end and hopping to the ground, then reaching back in to pull out Wilkins.  Daniel carried her in his arms, knowing how pissed it would make her if she were to wake up in this state.  She had a good smell, though.  Completely contrary to the rough exterior she always portrayed.

The Reverend, as it would appear, approached them.

REVEREND: “What’s going on here?”

GUARD: “Federal Agents.”

The Reverend stared daggers at him.

REVEREND: “We don’t have enough supplies for more people?  Maybe one, since Jim left… but…”

He looked at the three of them, Wilkins unconscious.

REVEREND: “What’s wrong with her?  Is she infected?”

SOLO: “One of your men did a number on her, hit her in the head.  She’s not infected.”

The Reverend turned to the men.

REVEREND: “Is this true?”

They answered by simply looking downcast and bowing their heads.

REVEREND: “Forgive me, I’m trying to teach these boys some manners.  Listen, we can let you stay for one night.  I sent them out to gather supplies, not people.  And to look for Jim.  Jim went out looking for supplies three days ago, and he hasn’t been back.  I fear the worst.”

CAYMAN: “We had no intention of coming at all.  Your men were insistent.”

REVEREND: “My men are lazy.  They’ve entertained the notion that if they can get more people here, the work to be done will be much less and then they can sit around drinking beer all day.  I keep telling them that’s not the case.  The more mouths to feed, the more work there is to be done.  Now, here are the rules.  I’ll only say them once.”

He spoke as he led them to a series of cabins, apparently once used for vacationing campers.

REVEREND: “You’ll each be given chores.  You complete the work assigned to you, then the rest of the day is yours.  This is a community where everybody pitches in, even me.  You’ll see me out working on the garden every morning.  I have been for the last fifteen years, and the zombie apocalypse is not going to change that.  There is no fighting.  No deserting.  No stealing.  The early hours of the day are for foraging in the surrounding areas.  Colfax, particularly.  We are short on fuel, ammunition and brains.”

He said this last part while glaring at the men who had brought them in.

CAYMAN: “Listen, Reverend… I don’t mean to be rude.  But if it’s all the same to you, we’re simply passing through.”

REVEREND: “Passing through where and to where?”

Daniel and Frederick looked at each other, then back to the Reverend.

CAYMAN: “Well, we don’t really have a place in mind yet.  Mostly we’re just seeing what we can do to help on the broader scope.  Solo and the unconscious Wilkins are federal agents.  They’re researching the disease.”

REVEREND: “I never had much understanding for things scientific.  But what exactly do you intend to discover?  That the dead are walking?  That they’re killing anything currently living in search of food?  I can tell you that.  There’s nothing you can discover that will be of any help to you, I guarantee it.  But if you don’t have a destination, and are merely looking for a place to get by… well, this could be it.  I urge you to consider staying.”

Once out of earshot, Daniel whispered to Frederick.

DANIEL: “I don’t like it.  There’s more going on than he admits.”

FREDERICK: “I feel it too.  Let’s stick around and see what their angle is.  Wait for Sonya to come to and get her opinion.”

DANIEL: “How is she?”

FREDERICK: “She’ll be fine.  Concussion probably.  I hope they have aspirin.”

Then, in a whisper.  As if Sonya would hear him.

FREDERICK: “She can get a bit bitchy at times…”

Daniel smiled, shyly.


VI.

Jim pulled up to the boarded up church.  Susan and Julia were both asleep, Susan in the front and Julia laying down in the back.  He decides to let them be while he stretches his legs.  He gets out of the car, letting it cool some.  They were in Redding and in front of Four Square Community Church.  After a moment, Julia peeked out the rear window, evidently awake.

JULIA: “Have you ever shot somebody?”

Jim turned, surprised.

JIM: “Me?  Yeah… yeah, I have.”

She thought about it a moment.

JULIA: “But only bad guys, right?  And the monsters.”

JIM: “Right.”

This made her smile.  From inside the church, a man screaming sent a chill up his spine.  Susan woke, flailing her arms before realizing she had been dreaming.  She got out of the car, looked at Jim who was staring at the church.

SUSAN: “What is it?”

JIM: “Came from inside.  I’m going to take a look.  The key’s in the ignition, if I’m not back here by ten minutes just go.”

SUSAN: “Don’t go.”

JIM: “I have to… I can’t leave somebody helpless.”

Julia rolled her window up as Jim walked off towards the church.  Susan climbed back in the car, watching him go.  Jim took out his gun as he neared.  He paused by the door, checked the handle and realized it was unlocked.  The windows on the right side were boarded up, but that was all.  He hazarded a peek inside and what he saw chilled him to the bone.  Several dozen infected, all having a feast of flesh.  Many of them were now pressed towards the back of the church, pounding on a door at the back of the sanctuary.

Jim silently closed the door, stepped away.  He circled around to wear the windows were boarded up.  He peeked through, and saw the man who had screamed.  Inside, the man had his back to an office door and was pressing against it with all his strength.  The door was unlatched and hands were reaching through the cracked doorway.

Thinking fast, Jim yelled into the office.

JIM: “Don’t panic.  Let me get these boards off the window and I’ll get you out of there.”

The man nearly did panic when he heard the voice.  But the hope gave him a bit more strength and he was able to force the door shut, though he knew it wouldn’t hold for long.  Jim pulled away at the boards, finally removing the bottom two.

JIM: “Come this way.”

The man made a run for the window, squeezing through and falling to the grass unglamorously.  The man got back up.

MAN: “Thankyou.  My name’s Samuel.  This is my church.  Was my church.”

JIM: “Not a problem.  Listen, there’s probably fifty of them in there.  We’re going to need to burn it.”

A look of horror came across him.  He shook his head violently.

SAMUEL: “No, no, no!  This is God’s house.  These are his children.  My congregation.”

JIM: “They’re already dead.”

SAMUEL: “You don’t know that.  They’re just sick, that’s all.”

Jim turned around, walking away from him.  The man was not listening to reason.  Jim approached the car, seeing the relieved look on Susan and Julia’s face for returning unharmed.  He opened the driver’s side door and popped open the trunk.  He went around back, all the while Samuel is babbling away.

SAMUEL: “They’re still people.  They need help.  It’s a disease, we just have to give it time.  God will come through with this.  We just need to have a bit of faith, officer.”

Samuel picked up a bottle of vodka he had been saving.  Took a greasy rag out from under the spare tire and opened the bottle, completely ignoring the man.

SAMUEL: “Listen to me, I cannot let you do this.  It’s murder.”

JIM: “I’ve had about enough listening to you.  Now, step aside.  That’s an order.”

Samuel bit his lip, didn’t say another word.  Jim finished making his Molotov cocktail and lit it with his lighter.  The flame danced over the bottle.  He approached the church slowly, holding his finger up for the rest to be quiet.  Samuel clenched his fists in protest, but did not say a word.  Jim opened the door, tossed the bottle inside and closed the door again.  He moved an iron bench in front of the door, and ran back to the car.  Already infected were pushing at the door, trying to get at them.

JIM: “Get in the car, now!”

Samuel stared for a few moments more, before Jim ran over… opened the rear door and practically threw the man inside.  Jim got in himself just as a couple infected broke free from the church.  As they pulled away, flames were billowing through the office windows and licking the roof.  With hope, at least two thirds would perish in the fire.  Samuel was silent for a long time afterwards.


VII.

Randy looked at Meggan, as if to get confirmation.  She gave no such confirmation, but he knew she couldn’t.  It was now or never.  Their target had stepped outside for a piss and had his back turned to them.  Randy crept over as silently as he could, the chloroform soaked rag in his hand.  Four feet away, he stepped on a twig, breaking it.  The man whirled and Randy gaped.

MAN: “HEY!  OUT HERE!”

Randy stumbled backwards, running.  Meggan didn’t have to see what was happening to know.  Doors opened.  Men piled out of the building, armed and angry.  They grabbed Randy first, who up until that point had hoped he’d be able to somehow outrun them back to the van and get away with Meggan.  No such luck.  They tackled him to the ground and bound his hands in rope.  Meggan sighed, not bothering to try and escape.

She had feared this would happen, and had planned accordingly.  The men would not kill her.  They had no reason to.  But they would be so confident that she’d get her answers anyway.  The problem was the cost.  She had been ready to sacrifice ethics for the truth, kidnapping the guy to get more evidence.  She wondered how she’d feel about sacrificing more for it.  She would find out.

The men approached the van slowly.  She opened the door, hands raised.

VOICE: “Well, holy shit… is that Meggan Evans?  That bitch just don’t learn, does she?”

She recognized the voice.  It had haunted her nightmares for years.

ELIMINATED – Meggan Evans – Detained


VIII.

Eddie saw Earl turn to the driver of the truck.  He heard the screaming and the cries of the creatures.  He reacted the best way he knew how, without thinking.  He grabbed Earl’s gun, snatched it away.  At the same time, Richie rose with his own gun.  Earl turned stunned to his two would-be victims.  From behind, one of the creatures grabbed him and sank its teeth into the neck of Earl.

Eddie got a real good look at the thing this time, really took in what it was.  Slowly, he raised the gun and fired.  The creature fell over, a bullet in his head.  Early lay on the ground, bleeding to death and taking in his last breaths.  Richie went to the cab of the truck, saw another infected feasting on the driver.  Richie raised the gun, couldn’t shoot.  Eddie came along side him, aimed his own and emptied the second chamber.

They both stood in silence for a while.  Silence was something rarely shared between the two of them.

RICHIE: “You killed them.”

EDDIE: “Had to.”

Richie looked at his brother in a different light, his brother the screw up… had done something that Richie couldn’t.  And he had blood on his hands because of it.  Eddie turned back to the Gran Torino, whose tires were shot.

EDDIE: “Now what?”

Richie answered him by grabbing the dead driver and hoisting him out of the truck.  Eddie watched in shock as Richie climbed went around the front, this time grabbing the infected’s foot and dragging him back through the windshield and off the hood.  The windshield itself was useless, and the cab was covered in blood and other.

RICHIE: “It’s not much.  But it’ll get us moving.  At least until we can find a new car.”

EDDIE: “I’m gonna be sick if I get in that thing.”

RICHIE: “I gotta get home, Eddie.  Come on, help me out.”

Eddie sighed and took his brother’s hand, shaking it.  They each climbed into the truck, this time Richie driving.


IX.

Cassandra knelt down behind the abandoned car.  A hundred yards ahead, the soldiers were shooting the shit and gabbing.  It was time.  Alessandra better fulfill her part of the plan.  After a few more agonizing moments, she finally saw it.  Three hundred yards away on the other side of the soldiers, a car exploded.  The soldiers turned their attention to it.  Cassandra smiled.  She looked down at Lidia, took her hand.

CASSANDRA: “Remember, stay right behind me.  And be very quiet.  Don’t make a sound.”

Cassandra got up, holding the hand of the little girl as they crept up on the soldiers.  She held the gun tightly in her hand.  Another car exploded, this time fifty feet to the left of the first one.  Now the soldiers began to move, making their way to the explosions to investigate.  As they moved, Cassandra went to the truck.  Unlatched it, and flung it open to let out the survivors.

Unfortunately, they weren’t survivors.

She barely let out a whimper as the things dove off the truck at her.  Twenty of them, at least.  She stumbled back, the things tackling her to the ground.  Lidia ran away, escaping behind a car.  But not for long, for they had seen her too.  At the last minute, gunshots filled the air.  They took out several of the infected that had escaped.  This got the attention of the rest, who changed direction and diverted their attention to the soldiers.  Cassandra shot the one that was ontop of her, and rolled it off.  Lidia was running around and around the car in circles, as an infected gave chase.  Cassandra ended the girl’s misery by putting a bullet through the zombie’s head.

LIDIA: “Cassandra!”

Lidia charged for Cassandra and wrapped her arms around her leg.  Cassandra turned her attention to the other infected.  They had overtaken the soldiers, killing all of them.  Cassandra aimed coolly and mowed down the last four remaining infected.

Cassandra sat down, hugged her knees.  That was way too close of a call.  She was sure she had seen living non-infected get into the truck.  That means they had turned while inside.  How could she have known?  It sounded like a good diversion in her head, but it was just way too close.

Her thoughts were interrupted when Alessandra returned from setting up the diversions.  The sister looked at the piles of bodies, then at the guns.  She picked one up, before Cassandra could even realize what was happening.

When she did, it was too late.  The gun was aimed at her.

ALESSANDRA: “Now, give me your gun.”

CASSANDRA: “Alex…”

ALESSANDRA: “Give me the fucking gun.”

LIDIA: “Cassandra…”

Lidia whined.  Cassandra sighed, tossed the gun to the ground.  Alessandra reached down and picked it up, stuffing it into her jeans.  She kept the assault rifle aimed at the two, then cracked a smile.

ALESSANDRA: “I guess I’m in charge now.”


X.

Gordon Fisher and his group stopped to rest at a turnout just off of 80.  The sun was setting and Gordon had been driving all day it seemed, but hadn’t found much in the way of supplies.  He knew he should  be heading west to the cities… but instead, he just sort of ambled along.  Jim pointed this out.

JIM: “Are we actually going to try and get anywhere tomorrow?”

Gordon didn’t respond.

JIM: “I don’t like this area.  I thought maybe you were getting out of here.  If I had known you were just going to drive around in circles-“

GORDON: “I’m looking for food and supplies.  You won’t find much in the cities that hasn’t already been looted.”

JIM: “We can’t stay here forever.”

GORDON: “And why not?  You’re not captive here.  Why don’t you find your own way?”

JIM: “It occurred to me that I might.  But…”

GORDON: “But what?”

JIM: “Nothing.”

Sam was asleep.  Cody gave him a look as if to say, ‘I told you so.’  He didn’t tell him nothing though.  Content to leave the argument as it was, Gordon settled himself in his seat and shut his eyes.  He got the feeling that Jim was only pretending to sleep, though.  Gordon would have to do the same.


XI.

Morning came for Daniel Cayman and his federal agent friends.  Wilkins even woke up, looked at the sun glaring through the window then stood to full attention.

WILKINS: “Where are we?”

SOLO: “Take it easy, it’s still early.”

WILKINS: “Take it easy?  We’ve been kidnapped.  Where’s my gun?”

SOLO: “It’s on the nightstand.  Don’t worry, we’re not captive here.”

WILKINS: “What the hell are you talking about?”

CAYMAN: “Let me explain…”

And so, Daniel went through all the events that happened.  He downplayed his suspicion that something unseen was happening, but Sonya picked up on it anyway.

WILKINS: “Something else is going on that they’re not telling us.”

They didn’t say a word.

WILKINS: “We’re leaving.  Now.”

As if on command, the door opened.  The Reverend walked in with a few of his boys.

REVEREND: “Rise and shine, time to start the day.”

Sonya glared at them.  Frederick spoke first before she could put her foot in her mouth.

SOLO: “We wanted to thank you for letting us stay here, and we’ll be off on our own now.”

REVEREND: “Oh, that’s a shame.  Well of course, you’d be helping us out by doing your fair share of the work.  I mean, being as how we took you in.  You would return the favor, yes?”

WILKINS: “You took us here against our will.”

REVEREND: “That was a misunderstanding.”

WILKINS: “We’re leaving.”

REVEREND: “Yes, you are.  But you’ll be going with Rick here.  Heading back up Highway 80 in search of more supplies.  When you’re finished, you can bring supplies back here.  And when you’re done with that, you can leave.”

Wilkins nodded, grudgingly.  The three of them gathered there things.  Daniel felt the bulge from his gun as he put on his backpack.  He sincerely hoped he’d never have to use it.


XII.

Josh didn’t sleep well.  Did anybody ever sleep well these days?  His nightmares were full of grotesquely large zombies charging in from all directions.  Sometimes they looked like strangers, but often they were people he knew.  His friends, his cousins, Crystal.  That was the worst.  He woke up covered in sweat.  He looked over and found that he was alone.  Crystal had already gotten up.

He got up himself, got dressed and looked out the window.  Yep, still fucked.

He went downstairs, his head still feeling funny.  Mostly his neck was killing on him from sleeping on the floor.  He had an idea to grab some beds from someplace nearby if they were going to actually make this place into something.

Crystal was sitting on the floor, loading and unloading a gun.

JOSH: “Hi Crystal.  Whatcha doing?”

CRYSTAL: “Practicing loading the weapons.  The faster I become, the more it may make a difference when it really matters.”

JOSH: “I see.”

Inside, he recalled a time when they had thought of nothing more serious than whether or not The Mars Volta was overrated.

CRYSTAL: “More importantly, we need more ammo.  And more guns.  With Tiffany here, we’re going to need a few extras for her.  And we’ll need more for the other refugees.”

JOSH: “Refugees?”

CRYSTAL: “That’s the point, isn’t it?  We’re going to make this into a fortress.”

JOSH: “Are you okay?”

CRYSTAL: “I’m great, why do you ask?”

She continued loading and unloading the gun.  She was insanely quick at it now.  But still she went on.

JOSH: “Nothing.”

Tiffany was standing near a window, looking at the street.  Now she called to them.  Josh came over, with Crystal following close behind.  She raised the run, took off the safety and crouched near the window.  She was taking this serious.

A group of four were strolling down the street.  Looked like a family.  They were headed straight for the building.  The male of the group carried a hunting rifle.  The woman and the two young boys were unarmed.

JOSH: “They’re headed straight here.”

CRYSTAL: “Of course they  are.”

Crystal stepped outside, the gun lowered.  She waved at them.  Josh made futile attempts to call her back, worried that the man with the gun could be hostile.

CRYSTAL: “Hi, I’m Crystal.  Welcome.”

MAN: “Do you have food?  We need food.”

CRYSTAL: “Not yet.  But we’re working on it.  We’ve got plenty of water though.  You can either stay here or if you’re just passing through, you can simply load up on water if you like.”

Josh noticed Tiffany watching him.  He met her gaze, shrugged his shoulders.  She did not stop looking at him.  Strange.

The family reloaded on water and went off on their own.  After a while Josh wandered outside, finding a department store nearby.  He turned around to let Crystal know, when he saw it.  The reason the family had headed straight for their building.  A large banner hung over the building, hung from the roof.

“Safety and Supplies”

He hung his head, getting a bad feeling for it all.


XIII.

Sonya, Frederick and Daniel were sitting in the back of a truck with a guy named One Eye, a thick hairy man with an eye patch.  After a while, they pulled up to a stop.  Sonya looked around, seeing only a station wagon pulled to the side of the road.

SONYA: “Why are we stopped?”

ONE-EYE: “Supplies.”

They all piled out of the truck, drawing their weapons just in case.  As they approached the vehicle, a gunshot caused them all to drop and take cover.

FREDERICK: “What’s happening?”

One Eye went down like a sack of potatoes, blood pooling from his gut.

ONE-EYE: “I’m hit.”

He returned the kindness by spraying a stream of bullets at the station wagon before collapsing onto his face.  Frederick took the uzi from the dying man, checked its clip and waited.


XIV.

Gordon woke up.  Woke up, damnit… he had dozed off.  He heard the sound again, car doors closing.  He turned around, saw Jim waking up.  Saw Sam fast asleep.  Cody was licking his Gordon’s knuckles.  Jim turned around suddenly, just as five men and a woman got out of a pickup truck, all of them armed.

Suddenly, Jim raised a gun.  HIS gun.  Gordon felt at his belt, feebly.  Realized Jim must have taken the gun when he fell asleep.  That son of a bitch.

Jim shot out the back window, shattering it.  The bullet hit one of them, a guy with an eye patch.  They all dropped down for cover.  A few moments passed then machine gun fire sprayed the car.  Sam plugged his ears.  Cody whimpered.  Gordon pulled Cody down and got himself as low as he could.  Sam was already as low as he could be, crouching on the floor of the back seat.

That Jim was going to get them killed.  The gunfire stopped though.

GORDON: “Give me that god damn thing.”

Jim glared at him, refusing without words.  Then he opened the car door, got out of it.  Bang.  Bang.  He fired at the two on his side.  He hit the woman in the stomach, hit the driver right in the center of his chest.

Gordon saw the ignition without keys.  The bastard must have took them too.  He had slept through all that?  How?

Behind him, Jim got hit in the leg by awkward looking man carrying the uzi.  He wondered if he bore some sort of affection for the woman, because he seemed to liven up after she got hit.  Still, everything happened so fast.  Jim, though hit, kept firing.  He hit the awkward man in the forehead, killing him instantly.

He hazarded a glance to Sam.  The boy still covered his ears, but he didn’t appear as shaken up as you’d expect a kid to be.  This kid had seen far too much violence.  He had grown numb to it.

From this vantage, Gordon saw his only chance.  The tire iron lay on the floor of the backseat.  He grabbed it, clenched it in his fist for when the time was right.


XV.

Sonya was shot.  Frederick was dead.  One of the guys they came with was ducked down beside Daniel.  The man started yelling.

MAN: “Jim, come on man… why would you do this to us?”

JIM: “I’m not going back there.  You hear me?”

He fired again, this one hitting the man in the knee.  He doubled over in pain.  Daniel took out the gun, the heavy bulge he had carried this long.  The one he was supposed to use to take out Frederick and Sonya if they were about to make the wrong call.  It still felt heavy.

He raised the gun, doing as he was trained.  He hit the guy, Jim, but only in the shoulder.  The man spun around, shooting wildly.  By some miracle it hit the man behind the truck, dead center in his chest.  Bet he couldn’t do that again if he tried.  Daniel fired again, hitting the guy right between the eyes.  He fell down, dead.  The shooting stopped.

Daniel got up, went to Sonya.  She was coughing up blood.

DANIEL: “What do I do?”

She reached into her pocket, took out a phone.  Placed it in his hands.

SONYA: “Make the call.  Please.  There’s only one number in there.”

He looked at the phone, it was a government satellite phone.  It would work so long as there was a satellite still in the sky.  He shook his head.

DANIEL: “I can’t do that.  It’s wrong.  We still have a chance.”

Sonya tried to fight through the words.

SONYA: “If they don’t hear from me… they’ll do it.  Make the call… tell them I failed… stop them from making a mistake.”

She gurgled out the last few words.  Then he understood.  Had he carried out his mission as Major Bene intended, he would have doomed them all.  She spoke just once more.

SONYA: “Kill me.  Quickly.”

He didn’t understand at first, then realized… gunshot wound to the stomach.  It was a long and painful death.  He shook his head, but tears fell from her eyes.  She looked over to Frederick who lied dead on the other side of the truck.  He sighed, the gun still heavy in his hand.  He closed his eyes and pulled the trigger.

Would he ever live with himself after that?


XVI.

Gordon stepped out of the car carefully, silently.  There was only one of them left.  Only one man, but he wouldn’t let anything happen to the boy.  Couldn’t let anything happen to him.  His heart beating nearly out of his chest… he wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take… he raised the tire iron.  The man stood up, pointed the gun at the woman on the ground.  Executed her right then and there.

The cold hearted son of a bitch.

Gordon swung with all his might, hitting the man right on his temple.  The man went down.  Gordon kept swinging.  Tears flew from his eyes.  This was different.  This wasn’t like killing the infected.  This was a human being.  But it was necessary.  He swung and swung and swung, caving the man’s head in.  Exhausted, he dropped the tire iron and sobbed into the dirt.  The man was a bloody mess on the side of the road.  Collecting himself, he reached into his pocket… took the man’s wallet and removed his ID.  “Daniel Cayman.”  He stuffed the ID into his pocket and then went to Jim.  He took his keys, took the gun then made his way back to the vehicle.

His hands shook as he got behind the wheel.  He looked back at Sam, still huddled down on the floor.  He hoped the boy hadn’t turned around to look.  He didn’t think he did.  But Cody saw.  Damn if Cody didn’t know just what he had done.

But they were safe.  That’s what mattered.  He started the engine and drove off, leaving Colfax and its surrounding area behind them.

ELIMINATED – Daniel Cayman, Frederick Solo, Sonya Wilkins – Dead

4
Random Topics / It's happening...
« on: May 26, 2012, 09:01:19 PM »
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/05/26/naked-man-eating-victims-face-killed-miami_n_1548359.html

Quote
One man is dead and another hospitalized after a bizarre incident off the MacArthur Causeway reportedly forced a police officer to open fire.

City of Miami police say the incident began Saturday afternoon about 2 p.m. when officers responded to reports of 2 men fighting in the bike path of the Biscayne Boulevard exit ramp, alongside the Miami Herald's parking garage -- where, according to the Herald, an officer observed a naked man eating another man's face:

    The officer, who has not been identified, approached and saw that the naked man was actually chewing the other man's head, according to witnesses. The officer ordered the naked man to back away, and when he continued the assault, the officer shot him. The attacker continued to eat the man, despite being shot, forcing the officer to continue firing. Witnesses said they heard at least a half dozen shots.

"[Officers] attempted to separate them, there was some sort of confrontation," Miami Police spokesman Willie Moreno told Local10.

Photographs taken from the Herald's garage show the naked man lying dead at the scene. Police said the second male was transported to Ryder Trauma Center at Jackson Memorial Hospital.

Officials have yet to identify the officer involved, the deceased, or the victim.

5
Random Topics / My big project
« on: March 08, 2011, 02:40:23 PM »
I'm not planning on doing a big halloween display this year, so decided to make my kids a playhouse.  I've been posting on facebook if anyone has me on friendslist.  But figured I'd post it here so you all can see what I've been up to.

I'm really proud with how it turned out, though it's taken a month to get freaking flightsticks shipped to me.  Aside from that, and some painting touchups it's all done.

6
Random Topics / how goes it?
« on: January 27, 2011, 02:20:06 PM »
Just stopping by to say hi. Have been pretty busy with other things and sorta let this site slip away.

Looks like things are going well here still, so that's cool.

7
TV/Film / Not too scary movies
« on: September 18, 2010, 06:00:46 PM »
I'm looking for monster type movies, but not something too scary for my oldest boy. He wants to see some scary movies this Halloween.

Last year, he saw Monster Squad and loved it. He's also seen 8 legged freaks and was fine with that as well.

Any suggestions?

8
Random Topics / Random!
« on: September 02, 2010, 01:57:42 PM »
If you found a human head inside a sealed pumpkin, what would you do?

9
Fed News / Sanctuary Apps open for 1 week only
« on: August 30, 2010, 11:24:53 AM »
Colfax, California. Three zombies fed on the remains of a few bodies lying by the roadside. A satellite phone rang near them, startling them all. The one feasting on the body of a woman, once called Federal Agent Sonya Wilkins, reached for the phone, slapping it. It howled at it, as did the others. After a few rings, the phone went silent. Unanswered.

Pennsylvania. Acting President Biden lowered the phone, sadly. He looked at his advisers, a ragtag group of congressman that had survived the evacuation of Washington DC. The president hadn’t been so lucky. He was still alive, if you wanted to call it that. Locked in a room, seven floors below them in an even more secure area of the underground compound...

...they had a hundred survivors, enough food and water to last a hundred years. Mankind would go on, in some way or another.

Above ground, that was another question.

They were out of time. They should have launched a week ago. Perhaps he would have to take matters into his own hands if they couldn't come to a consensus. Party Politics and violence hadn’t shared beds in over a hundred years. But a lot of things had changed. A lot would still have to be changed.

-------

Roseville, California.  Susan sobbed, squeezing the gun in her hands and shaking. Finally she just threw it at Jim, disgusted. For a painful moment, Donald thought Jim would pick up the gun and use it to kill every one of them. He didn’t know what this man was about, or if he was one of the good guys or not. But the little girl had trusted him… Jim just looked at the gun, got up and walked to the other side of the sanctuary, leaving it there on the floor.

After a few tense moments, Donald picked up the gun himself and stuck it in his belt. There was no shortage of weapons in the room, but the act seemed to symbolize something. The three looked to him, and Samuel asked.

SAMUEL: “What now?”

-------

For ONE WEEK ONLY applications for The Sanctuary, Season 3 are open.  They will close saturday night at 9:00pm Pacific Daylight Time.  Want to try something different?  Tired of armbars?  Feast your eyes on zombies who will feast on your flesh.

The Sanctuary
May your brains remain uneaten

10
Random Topics / worst injury ive heard of
« on: August 19, 2010, 11:31:51 AM »
Being the safety captain for my district at work, I get emails with the various injuries that have occurred and just thought I'd share...

An employee, while driving a golf cart, had his knee sticking out the side of the cart. He went around a corner too sharply and hit his knee on a bollard! Holy mother fucking ouch!

The situation around this next one is suspicious, but somehow while shuffling papers an employee scratched their eyeball with a staple. How the fuck?

Anyone got any good ones themselves?

11
Random Topics / Aliens
« on: August 10, 2010, 12:11:13 PM »
Ok, I don't know if they're real or not. The idea scares the hell out of me and has scared me since I was a kid. Would love to see some real debate about this.

Just about anyone that's claimed to meet/be abducted by aliens I've disbelieved. The story always seems corny, one-sided and the person tends to give me the impression that they're mentally disturbed.

I bought a storage unit once and it had a notebook filled with the observations of somebody that believed he was visited by aliens weekly. Some of his observations were ludicrus and laughab le. And this was something written for himself.

Taking for granted that aliens do exist and that they're the commonly identified "gray" aliens. Why do they have such big black eyes? My initial suspicion is that they're for seeing in the dark, and that light may in fact hurt them. Also, in many drawings the eyes look so large that if they were spherical like mammal eyes, they would take up a huge portion of the skull.

They look to be physically weak, having small, but long arms.

And what's with the anal probe? I mean, really?

12
Fed News / The Sanctuary Theme Song
« on: August 08, 2010, 10:33:44 AM »
The musician, Yung Gunn has created a skit and song as a dramatization of actual events.  Listener discretion is advised.


13
Random Topics / The Anti-Joust
« on: July 24, 2010, 11:35:09 AM »
Time to get some positive momentum going for a change. Its summer, its hot and everybody's annoyed with something. Let's turn that frown upside down and kiss the ass of someone that deserves applause.

Alex K: For being a cool guy, all around and one of the few people I've met online that can keep their head straight.

T-Bone and Rancid - For pimping out Sanctuary whenever they can and just giving loads of support.

Ian, Sam and the invisible Knight: For setting the standard for how the game should be played.

Russ: Too early to give him applause for the tourney? Nah, its not too early. Your organization and dedication should be strived for by many.

14
Random Topics / Ethics of Spam
« on: July 15, 2010, 12:42:25 PM »
10 years ago, I wouldn't have even given this a 2nd thought. But as the communities mature, so do methods of recruitment.

We can all agree that spamming an efed's board with your site is wrong (and potentially ineffective) but what's everyones thoughts on advertising on the forum of a closed efed?

15
Fed News / Society is crumbling... signups open
« on: July 10, 2010, 12:09:05 PM »
The more I look around, the more I see the world I've come to know slipping away...

I spent 4 hours last night, flipping through channels to watch all the talking heads tell me what's happening. Spent 3 hours online, reading the real life accounts. I trudged through all the misinformation and bullshit guesses to finally come to the meat of what is happening.

They're not zombies, despite what Conan says. He gets a cheap laugh and calms everyones fears by talking that way. All the while, people are dying.

Its a disease. It somehow reboots people's minds to their most primitive instincts, to eat. It attacks their nervous system, stopping them from registering pain. It increases the strenth of their muscles and tendons, while causing their flesh to rot.

They have an unsatisfiable hunger for meat, whether from animals or human.

And they're only the most obvious monster we deal with. Because the only thing worse than the mindless enemy is the one that thinks. Its the one that leads an air raid through Los Angeles to take down people just trying to survive. The kind of mind that barricades downtown areas to give people a chance to evacuate, sacrificing everyone inside the barricaded area to the infected.

People are scared, just trying to survive. And they'll put a bullet in anything that gets in the way of that, whether infected or not.

In a way, I suppose the infected aren't the only ones whose minds have reverted to a basic instinct. We revert to our will to survive.

CNN has been off the air for the past half hour. I don't know if they were overrun by the infected or the military. I don't suppose it matters, either way.

This will be my last blog post. After I post it, I'm going to kill myself. For the betterment of all mankind.

-Anonymous


-----

Signups for Game 2 are now open at The Sanctuary. The next story arc will last for 6 weeks, so get involved while you can.

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