Last One Alive, Lock The Door ~ A Zombie RPG

After gathering all the food they could, she headed outside once more.

"I'm sure we can find a use for these. Gas, water, anything. They're treasure chests; we need only find treasure with which to fill them."

"Got a hose?" she asked.

Kaeila walked over to the cars in the lot. Their gas tanks were open, caps thrown to the side, and there were fresh spills, no more than a day or two old. Someone had beat them to this place. There was no fuel here. They must have had plenty of food, though, she thought.

"We'll have to find another place,"she said. "These cars have already been sucked dry." She remembered their own tank wouldn't take them much further. "We'll have to find it here."

 

Jerry climbed down from the back of the truck and stretched, popping his back and joints.
"Whoo!" he exclaimed. He bent his neck to the side, giving a grunt as it snapped [not broken, of course]. He followed the others into the store, stopping in the open doorway as the wall of stench met his nose. He walked in, scooting past the others, and headed for behind the register. He had become so used to death, the sight of the dead man barely even phased him. He looked for anything of use behind the counter. Not finding anything, he turned to leave, but a glint of silver caught his eye. He looked at the dead clerk. He had a single bullet hole in his chest. He wasn't a zombie when he died. Judging by the smell and rate of decomposition, he had been dead for a while. Probably since panic began to grip the nation. Jerry had guessed he had been one of the unfortunate ones who hadn't known what was happening. Not much could have persuaded someone to stay at a minimum wage job while the rest of the world was entering Chaos. There was a safe nearby, and judging by the dents and scratches in the door, someone had tried and failed to open it.
He looked at the attendants clenched fist and saw silver. Curious, Jerry pried open his hand and found a set of keys. He took them and stared for a moment. He fit one in the safe and twisted it. The safe unlocked with a dull clunk. Jerry smiled as he pulled on the handle.
The door didn't make a sound as it opened. Jerry reached in and felt cold metal. He grabbed the object and pulled it out. It was a gun. He had no idea what hind, though. He had never been big on guns. He reached back into the safe and pulled out three boxes of .22 caliber ammo.
"Ah, neat." He grabbed a knapsack off of the counter, a bright red one, and emptied the ammo in it. He put the gun on top and zipped it up. Jerry put it on and got to his feet. He grabbed a warm orange soda and a bag of Doritos he found hidden under a shelf. He walked back to the truck and sat down in the back again, munching happily on his Doritos.
He held the bag out to Grell, offering him some.

 

After leaving the store, Fitz went around back, carrying half a dozen 1-gallon containers. There were two zombies wandering a few feet from the rusting old tanker truck. Fitz dropped the containers and drew his sword, just as the two creatures came at him.

The first he decapitatated in one swing. He swung at the second, but only managed to strike the side of its head, rather than its neck. The long blade became stuck, keeping the zombie out of biting range, but still too close for comfort. He tugged and tugged, trying to free it, but to no avail. Meanwhile, the zombie was flailing its arms, desperately trying to reach him.

He kicked the zombie in the chest, knocking it back. His sword snapped in two, leaving the better half lodged in the monster's head. Enraged, Fitz stabbed the other end through the zombie's eyesocket, drew both pistols and emptied them in the beast's cranium, reducing its head to a bloody pulp.

He put away his guns and dropped to his knees in mourning, gathering up the two halves of his broken sword. "Daisy," he said, almost in tears, "I hardly knew you." With newfound resolve, he tossed away the old and peered up at the rusty tanker. "I'll rebuild her. Bigger, stronger, faster." He rose to his feet, laughing like a mad scientist. "An adamantine blade sharp enough to cut the heavens and return these unholy creatures to the depths of hell itself. You'll see. You'll all see!"

 

Jerry paused, an expression of worry on his face. Fitz outburst had scared him immensely. He rolled up the Doritos bag and took out his new gun. He turned it end over end, examining it. It vaguely reminded him of the pistol used in the Reagan assassination attempt.
He flicked out the round, bullet holder thing [he doesn't know what it is] and loaded six bullets. He clicked back in place and spun it playfully.
A moan grabbed his attention and he spun around in fear. A zombie had somehow manage to sneak up on him from the road. He was about to pull out his hatchet when he remembered the gun in his hand. He raised it up and took aim. He pulled the trigger...and missed. It hit a sign with a ding and richocheted off into the sun. He shook his head and aimed again. He fired and the bullet travelled through the zombies neck, on the left side, sending a spurt of blood from the back of it's neck. He took a deep breath and fired again. It went directly in its eye. It fell instantly, without the bullet ever leaving its brain. It had bounced about the creatures skull, ravaging its brain. Jerry realized he had kept his breath held and exhaled. He ejected the spent shells and reloaded.
"Ha!" he shouted. He stood up and held the gun in the air. "I feel the POWER!"

 

"Be careful, mama... you might like whatchu see," Dirk winked.

“Yeah, I might. What were you thinking?” I asked

Meanwhile Jake explained that I should take Dirk serious; only to beat his A$%... I knew that would be easy to do; ummm more like less than a minute.

Jake offered me his hand as I took it. I landed on the ground and spun around to face him. In a monotone I said.

“I don’t know what your motive is for being a gentleman, but I think you should keep it on the low. I hate rumors”.

I smiled at him and than turned to walk to the store. Inside was cloudy and had a stench of rotten blood, at least that’s what I assumed.

I roamed each and every isle trying to find something, well anything to eat.
“Finally” I shrieked.
I ran across some ding dongs, right next to them were a bag of cheetos. I scanned through the freezer looking for anything to drink, the only thing there was a bottle of water, I scooped it under my arm and ran out the store.

I caught up with dirk, as I looked to see what he had.
“Uh oh. Sharing is caring dirk” I said
I heard gun shots fired as I curiously spun around, Jerry held the gun in the air as he shouted.
“I feel the POWER”. I laughed at his facial expression while turning back to dirk.

 

Jason realised he had been left alone. Damnit. He decided to play a trick on them...because they were all getting a bit too mushy and otherwise annoying. He had noticed they all went in the front. He hopped out of the truck, and left his R700 in there. He walked around back, and saw what he presumed was the store owner.

He had blown his own brains out. He took the gun the man had used, an old .38 revolver. He picked it up, along with the body of the owner. He threw the body over his shoulders in a fireman's carry. He walked up to the back door. He tried the handle-locked. Reaching into the dead guy's front pockets, he found a keyring.
"Goddamnit, couldn't you of just left it unlocked, you heavy bastard." he mumbled. He found the right key, and unlocked it. He gently opened the door, and it creaked open.
"WD-40 the hinges next time, you lazy bastard." he mumbled. He heard them talking.

“Uh oh. Sharing is caring dirk”
“I feel the POWER”.
Then, he heard gunshots. No screaming, so he presumed it was one of them. He gently let the owner's body down, and posed it so it looked as if he was going to kill himself. Jason quickly pulled the trigger. It was a very loud sound compared to the otherwise quiet station. He then hauled ass to the front door, and casually let himself in.

 

Fitz was hard at work constructing his new weapon. He broke into the tanker truck and found a small toolbox stuffed behind the driver's seat, with a few basic things he could use. After that, he turned his attention to cannibalising the truck for parts. He was in the middle of prying off the front grille, when Jason came past, toting a dead body. Fitz never noticed.

A zombie came upon him from behind. He turned around as the man, reeeking of decay, reached out. With no weapon, (he hadn't reloaded his pistols yet,) Fitz grabbed the beast by the back of the head and smashed its face on the truck's bumper, painting the ground red with blood and brain matter.

"Don't f**k with me right now," he said, as though his vanquished foe could hear. "I'm very busy."

The grille came free, falling from the truck with a resounding clatter. Fitz gathered it up and threw it into the pile of other metal he'd pilfered from the derelict tanker. Reaching into his coat pocket, he drew out the remaining aerosol can he'd been holding onto, as well as a lighter. Sparking up a flame, he set to work forging his new blade.

 

Fitz emptied his gun on a single zombie. What a waste of ammo, she thought. Gunshots were coming from everywhere. Jerry seemed to be losing it, too much time in the insane-mobile, she guessed.

Kaeila stood silently outside, scanning for something, anything. Jason ran suspiciously away from the sound of one of those gunshots. The whole group was just running around, attracting zombies.

A dozen zombies rounded the corner. "Time to go!" she shouted, wondering if they'd get the idea. She took the larger gun from her waistband, took the safety off and aimed. She would shoot as many as she could while they were still coming. Half a dozen shots, half a dozen dead again.

She backed up and went to find Dirk, somewhere in the store, she was sure.

 

"Sharing is caring, huh? So whatchu gonna share with me, yo?"

He raised an eyebrow at Lorraine and let his eyes scan her body as he smiled. He opened up his orange juice and took a guzzle. He stuffed the blunt wraps in his pocket.

He saw some lemonheads.

"Yoink!"

Cheetos.

"Yoink!"

He started stuffing some of these things in his shirt.

"Junk food is really bad for you, yo."

He snatched a bag a 6-pack of beer.

"That's better."

 

I had waited at the car amused by GI Jane in his running to the back, gunshot and back to the front. I climbed into the drivers seat as zombies approached. I honked the horn to get everyone moving. "We really need to get moving everyone." I called out.

 

She found Dirk in the back.

"Junk food is really bad for you, yo." he said to Lorraine.

He grabbed a six-pack before she got to him.

"Are you serious? Do you really think I need you more impared?" she said. She thought about her words, really more harsh than she needed to be.

The horn honked outside. "Right," she said to herself under her breath. "Like we can get anywhere on an empty tank."

 

"Are you serious? Do you really think I need you more impared?"

At first, his face was blank. She really dug into him. Maybe the pressure was getting to her. He managed a smirk and went right back to vintage D.

"This ain't sh*t compared to what I plan on doing later."

He heard the horn. One hand was holding the 6 pack, the other holding the stuff in his shirt. He walked into Kaeila, using his body mass to move her out the door.

"Come on... we got gas, right?"

 

He kept pushing on her. Let it go, she told herself.

"Come on... we got gas, right?"

"No, that's the problem. All the gas in these cars has been taken already."

Zombies were filtering in from every direction now. "S***!" she said.

 

"No, that's the problem. All the gas in these cars has been taken already."

"The hell?" Jason said, "Where the f*ck are we going to get gas from now? Where's that maniac?" He pulled out his Glock and ran towards his truck to retrieve the R700.

"What's the plan? Alamo? Kill 'em all? Find gas?" he said.

 

"Where's that maniac?"

Which one, she wondered.

"What's the plan? Alamo? Kill 'em all? Find gas?" he said.

"Yeah, all that," she replied. "Start it up!" she said to Jake, tapping on the glass. She didn't know how far they could make it, but they could try to get away from the zombie's they'd attracted so far.

She chose her targets carefully, shooting only the ones that seemed to be coming towards them steadily, saving her ammo for the necessary.

The sun was climbing the sky, and she adjusted her cap to keep it out of her eyes.

 

"Right." Jason walked towards his truck, eliminating any zombie getting a little too close. He opened the door and hopped in. He turned the keys...
The truck wouldn't turn over. He rolled down the window, and shouted
"The truck won't turn over! We need to jumpstart it!" he said. He opened his door, got out, and grabbed jumper cables. He sprinted up to the front of his truck, popped the hood, and walked over to the Impala and did the same.

 

“Hey. Hey. What are you looking at?” I yelled at Dirk as his eyes traced every curve of my body.

I assumed his thoughts were in the wrong place, but attention was fun.

He guzzled down some of his orange juice before he went searching for more. He came across lemonheads, Cheetos, and of course Beer.

I watched as his face lightened up at the thought of a 6 pack.
“You must be happy, huh?”

I heard a movement as I slipped my machete out of my sheath; getting ready to swing, Kaeila swerved into the aisle.
I blinked and said to Dirk “damn that was close”

I heard a honk as Jake called out "We really need to get moving everyone."

“I guess we should go” I said following behind dirk and Kaeila.

As I walked outside, there were zombies coming from everywhere.
“What are we going to do?” I asked. “We cant take them all, no matter how experienced we are”. Quickening my walk.

“The truck won't turn over! We need to jumpstart it!" Jason shouted.
“Damn”, I put the food in the truck as I ran to help “so what can I do?”

 

Great, she thought, another crap car that won't start without a jump.

"Just try stomping on the gas while you turn the key," she shouted back, hoping Jake would hear her. Jason had already gone to find another car to start it, but that old trick wouldn't hurt to try.

Her shots were running low, but the zombies she'd thinned out for the time being. She was thirsty. Heading back into the store while she waited, Kaeila looked around for something, anything to quench her thirst. She opened the door to the back to search for something in the large, long-unrefridgerated fridge. Sure enough, jackpot again. Green gatorade was more than welcome, even if it was hot.

 

Fitz rose to his feet, surveying his handywork. His new sword was just as long as the old one, but twice as wide, which meant it was twice as heavy. He'd even taken the time to cut notches in the backside, leaving the trailing edge serrated like a sawblade. He was eager to try it out on a zombie; there were plenty of potential test subjects closing in.

Meanwhile, everyone was panicking. He was delicately wrapping a strip of old cloth around the handle, whistling to himself, putting the finishing touches on his masterpiece, even as everyone was running and shooting.

With his work done, he suddenly became aware of his surroundings. The sounds of voices flooded in on him. “The truck won't turn over! We need to jumpstart it!" someone said. "All the gas in these cars has been taken already," someone else replied.

"They can't manage without me for a few minutes?" Fitz said, tossing the empty gas containers into the back of the tanker. Once they get Jason's truck going, they'll still need to carry extra fuel somehow.

The army of zombies drew nearer, even as he was busy hotwiring the rusty tanker. It fired right up, the massive engine roaring to life with surprising ease. He slid into the driver's seat, laying his new sword across the passenger side and shutting the door.

He blew the horn twice, getting the attention of the wandering zombies, then put the truck in drive, ready to mow them all down. "Come and get it mother f**kers!" he yelled, as he put the semi truck into motion.

 

Jason had found the perfect truck. Another pickup. This time, a Dodge. He smashed the windows with the butt of his R700, and opened it. He cleaned off the glass and drove the Dodge nearly into his own truck. He popped the hood on the Dodge, and grabbed his jumper cables he had left by his truck.

 

Fitz accelerated the truck. He jumped the curb and went out of the lot to mow down the approaching zombies. They were standing at a distance, in a crowd at least twenty deep. He accelerated to a cruising speed of 30 mph and plowed through the group, splattering them like bugs on a windshield. He took out a quarter of them in his first pass and circled around for another go.

He blew the horn a few more times, drawing the remaining zombies away from the store and the station. Apparently they're more attracted to loud noises than human flesh. He plowed through the crowd again, crushing more zombies under the truck's massive tires. With no front grille, he could smell the zombie flesh burning on the truck's exposed radiator.

He drove away from the station and doubled back, accelerating to 50 for a final pass to finish off the last of the zombies. Various guages on the dashboard were in the red. The old truck couldn't hold up to much more of this.

 

Kaeila returned outside at the sound of a horn from what must have been a huge vehicle. She smirked at the sight, Fitz running down the zombies. Attracting them away from their group. She was increasingly growing to not care how crazy he seemed, because he was certainly one of the more ingenious fighters.

She drank the last of the gatorade, and threw the bottle to the side.

The truck doubled back, accelerating towards the station again. Her smile faded as he didn't seem to be slowing...

 

Fitz plowed through the remaining zombies, leaving few of them standing. At least now the group was relatively safe; they could easily finish off what was left. He began to slow the truck, planning to pull in next to Jason so they could get some fuel out of this thing and leave.

Unfortunately, the truck didn't respond. The engine shut off, taking the power steering and brake booster with it. Fitz tugged hard on the wheel, attempting to redirect the dead semi, but it was too much weight to turn. He leaned into the driver's seat, pulling the steering wheel with all his strength. The truck began to turn away, but not nearly enough.

He hit the curb as he re-entered the station, causing the truck to lean hard to one side. It tipped over, sliding into the station on its side and striking the side of the convenience store. Fortunately, it didn't plow through the store, but the impact was enough to crack the tank, leaving a steady stream of fuel coming from the back.

Fitz kicked out the windshield and emerged, standing before the wrecked semi with his sword in hand. "Yee haa! I rode the bull and lived!" he called out to Kaeila, who was standing a few feet away with an odd mix of confusion, anger, and amusement on her face. "And what's this," he said, recognizing the scent of gasoline in the air. "We've struck black gold!" He set to work putting it into the containers before it all spills out.

 

She ran to the side, making sure to be far enough away from the speeding truck. It jumped the curb and turned over, smashing into the store where she had just been standing. From the looks of things, Fitz was just fine.

"We've struck black gold!" He set to work putting it into the containers before it all spills out.

Kaeila ran over to help out, grabbing one of the containers and letting the leak fill it with gasoline. She wondered why the previous persons didn't think to get the tanker filled with gas, but she let the thought pass as quickly as it came. With her container filled, she walked back to their truck and poured it into the tank.

 

Jason drove up to the truck in a dodge, nearly smashing the front of his truck. i turned to look as he popped the hood and jumped out to get the jumper cables.

I watched how he put them on the dodge and than on his truck.

"Jason did you want me to start the dodge. I can help Juice your truck" i said.