It's cold today in the land of the Dead.

There is a grassy plain, and below it a missile base that is not a missile base. Around it, people, huddled in SUVs and Hummers and Pintos and horses and God knows what else. Most of them are not fully clothed, and the cold penetrates their rusty vehicles with profound ease. They don't seem to mind. This is a happy occasion; they have found something like society. There is trade, and haggling, and laughing, and occasionally theft and assault. Such things are inevitable in any gathering of humans.

The Dead are never far behind.

Ringed around the camp are, of course, sentry, and thus far they have had no problems: the Dead approach and are shot, or they wander off and are allowed to walk another day. The sentry's shots are very precise: "one shot, one kill" is the rule. Every shot must needs be in the head, of course, so the shooters are unhurried as the dead themselves. Quality over quantity.

Some of these humans, ringed in by the comforting arms of the sentry, are not like the others. Can you spot them? One is tall, broad, and black. The humans milling about shun him almost to a man. Another is treated much the same, a creature with strange, blind eyes. Not for him is the newfound camaraderie and brotherhood.

Others blend in very well. Observe this man, walking with his daughter. He looks normal enough, but those who have seen him in action know that he is both a great deal stronger than the man to his right, and a great deal more useful than Nostradamus ever was. The normals are much more friendly with him.

One of these humans that is not like the others is in the shape of a cowbell, in the arms of a scruffy, ill-bred man. It begins ringing, and the whole gathering is suddenly plunged into chaos. The aura of peace is shattered, because at the ringing the Dead begin walking, walking towards the sentry line in dazzlingly large numbers, and they don't look happy, or sad, or anything except dead and terribly, terribly hungry.

"Damn, things were going well fer once. I knew it couldn't last." Hawkins looked around and then made a dash for his own personal Humvee. He quickly donned the rest of his battle gear and retrieved some of his stockpile of weapons, particularly his pistol and the battle rifle. He grabs several clips for both weapons and then seeks out Priest and his entourage.

"You ready for another round of everyone's favorite game, "Remind the dead of their status?"

No mad dash for Priest and Company. Theirs is the hurried walk toward their vehicles which are already roaring to life. Priest cuts on his communication set and touches his ear piece.

"Priest here. Everyone sound off once you are on station. Let's not lose anyone."

He takes his daughter Sarah over to the bus. The door opens and Leo looks down at him, a worried smile on her face. Priest gives her a reassuring smile. As he turns away, he delves forward into time, gathering what glimpses of the future that he can.

Rhonda, Bethany, and Leo all chime off as their rides are loaded, locked up, and ready to rid. Priest comes up to Rhonda's Hummer - his actually, but he let's the New Girl drive his ride for him, both to keep her close and to keep an eye on her.

"I'm going to go forward and take a look - see if we should make a stand or run for it. Leo, turn the truck around in case we do have to run. Bethany, you keep on my back."

Colt was with Bethany and climbing up in the SUV's moonroof and readying his scope in his rifle. Willie was on the roof of the tractor trailer with his own rifle, but wouldn't be wasting his bullets until the truck stopped. Andy with him and would take Willie's rifle if it came down to using the flame thrower. The Scavanging Crew worked like a well oiled machine, and Priest was proud of them. No panicing - no believing that any place was ever totally safe.

Captian Hawkins came running up. He shouted his greetins and Priest nodded with a grin. Not everyone was running away.
"Take topside," Priest offered, letting Hawkins in first.

Hawkins stepped into the set and up through the sun roof as Rhonda moved toward the pickett line. Priest's confidence kept Rhonda calm, or calm enough to drive steadily. He wanted to see how bad this was. Humanity could not afford to lose anyone, and if anyone was still down in that missle base, they would need time to get out.

((Premonition activated))

Fox cursed and pulled the communicator off his belt and spoke into it for a moment. Seconds later a loud amplified voice rings out easily heard by all, "Man your stations! This is not a drill. Visitors grab a gun and do your best." Fox smiles as some order begins to take shape from the chaos. A moment later the voice returns, "Snipers begin firing, all others fire when they are in range of your weapons. They may have numbers, but they are still mindless and we've got a fence between us and them. Make your shots count." As soon as the voice ceases gunfire erupts and zombies start to fall, at first in ones and twos then more and more as others join in the barrage. "Novas to the command post please." Fox nods to the man next to him and they head to the building with the large black letters stenciled across every wall, 'command hq'.

Dan quickly sights in a few things and checks to make sure the rifle's ready to go and clear. He slaps the roof once as he firmly plants his feet. "Good to go up top. Let's get out there and buy'em the time they need."

The Hummer doesn't have the armor of his own ride, but he was needed more to shoot and kill than drive his vehicle. It would be safe here at the camp. besides he could always take off out of the sunroof if the others needed a distraction. One small blessing, he'd yet to meet a zombie that could fly.

At the sound of the bell James reached not for a gun but for the hilt of a Claymore sword he wore over his shoulder, he started to draw it then changed his mind when everyone else went for guns. He gave a half embarrassed shrug and took out a rifle instead.

James follows the others.

In the midst of the chaos the creature with the strange, blind, crystalline eyes stands motionless on his triple-jointed legs and listens. He reaches for no weapons, and at first makes no sign that he is even aware of what is transpiring around him.

Soma hears the call to arms, and the summons for "all novas" to report to the command post, but he assumes this is meant for those officially associated with this settlement, which he is not as of yet. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but no audible sounds come out. Then he cocks his head to one side as though considering something.

After only an instant of this Soma suddenly breaks out into a full sprint - in the direction of the approaching horde. His movements are incredibly graceful as he runs - disturbingly so, actually. His warped limbs only emphasize the impossible smoothness of his movements.

When he gets to within a few yards of the Zombie-front, Soma skids to a halt, and once again stands motionless while he waits. His form alters subtely and two gun-metal black tendrils with the thickness of good rope drop from somewhere inside his coat sleeves, twisting and writhing languidly in the cold air.

((OOC: I don't know if Soma would actually get to the hordes before those in vehicles, but his sprinting speed is over 40mph, so he should at least be able to keep up. When Soma opens his mouth, and then cocks his head, he's activating his H.Enhanced Hearing. Also, 'Shifting roll for the tendrils, with 1 WP spent on the roll. Let me know if I get more than the 2 successes needed and can add more to his changes.))

Before the alarm bell had even rung, Rachel had turned to Bryce and Jan and said, "Gather all the kids into the Tahoe. Jan, stay with them and be ready to leave; Bryce, bring our guns and meet me and Amanda at the pickup."

Her two friends have become very used to this sort of thing, and exchange a single glance before hurrying away. Just as they leave the bell begins to call out it's dreadful warning.

Rachel turns and hurries towards the pick-up. Amanda is already there starting it up, "Ready to impress the new neighbors?" she asks.

Before Rachel can respond, the voice that had been shouting orders over the loudspeaker announced "Novas to the command post please."

This catches her surprise; why would he pull back the heavy hitters? The novas should be protecting the human survivors, not supervising. Still, the sentries and others seem to be handling things well, and and integrating her crew into this new safe haven was a top priority.

Just then Bryce jogged up, his own police issue rifle over his shoulder and pistol in it's holster. He also carried the groups second rifle and two more pistols.

"I'm sure you heard that," he says, "I guess we should obey. Captain's order's?"

"No, I'll go for both of us. You go help defend the perimeter." She accepts a pistol from him in addition to the one she is already carrying.

"Keep her safe," she says. She watches as he climbs into the passenger seat and the two take off towards the fence. It made her sick inside sending her daughter to the front lines as it were. Amanda has earned her trust and respect in these past months, and there was no holding her back anymore.

As she turned to walk toward the command building, she slips on her sunglasses, to conceal the sudden flare from her eyes. She concentrated on her abilities, hoping to catch a glimpse of things to come.

The command post was obviously hasty construction put up after Z-day. The interior has large military maps posted on 3 of the 4 walls and the fourth wall sports a large cork-board to which is pinned many notes and lists of supplies needed or stockpiled, Names of survivors and their locations, etc. The furniture in the room is rather grander than the building itself, having obviously scrounged from nice offices and the conference table in the center of the room contains one more map, this one of the immediate surrounding of the base in great detail.

Once the other novas are gathered around the table Fox speaks, "Sorry to call you away from the front lines, but this attack doesn't look like the run of the mill hoarde just wandering about. There are just too many of them for this to be random, so I want a battle plan rather than letting it be everyman for himself. We don't need to be fancy, but lets be effective. We've all met, but I am afraid I don't know your combat capabilities. Can I get a quick description of your combat styles? I promise this won't take more than two minutes and you will be allowed to get to your stations." Fox looks around expectantly.

A rugged brown haired man with a square jaw and a big sword says,

"James DeBeer. I'm bullet proof, bite proof... well mostly. Sometimes it hurts but my skin doesn't break. I can jump for miles, litterally. I'm so strong I have to use this big ass sword because anything else breaks."

"Mostly I jump to the far side and let them try to swarm me, then jump away. Maybe try to lead them away. My ladies and I drove here in a big ass truck. Could try to just run them all over, crush a lot of them."

Rhonda pulled up to the closest picket on the line and pulled out his binoculars. With another hand he activated his personal communicator and had Leo patch him into the Command HQ.

"This is Priest. Hawkins and I are here out on the perimeter taking a look-see."

He scanned the shambling mass of inhumanity, trying to make sense of why so many had suddenly come so far. There had to be a reason for this change in behavior.

Rhonda kept the engine running and looked nervously out at the oncoming hoard. She spared a quick look at at Hawkins, hoping one of the two novas could somehow make the undead stop coming he way.

The Dead look undead, and hordish, and not remotely disposed to give clues as to their congregation. It is known that the Dead have a sort of 'life sense' that penetrates all barriers. The range is unknown but zombies miles away from any prey will usually wander aimlessly. Possibly a great catastrophe occured near here and the Dead woke to the aroma of life. Certainly a great many of them are injured in some way. Bullet wounds seem particularly common.

Priest is frustrated by the uncoming numbers of undead.

"Priest here. We've got quite a party coming. They show signs of a recent fight - bullet wounds the perferred damage of choice. Anyone know why so many would have come so far?"

At the same time, Priest is making a tactical assessment to see if the compound can hold and whether or not he should vacate with his people.

"That should be obvious. They sense a large gathering of living human flesh. Perhaps the larger the gathering the more these things are drawn to it."

Hawkins looks through the scope on his battle rifle scanning the horde to try to find any form of formal uniform or idea where this batch came from.

(((OOC Drew are there any military uniforms, or any identifiable traits to the clothing of the Zombies? Are they all dressed in Civillian clothing?")))

The compound can hold, in all probability. It might get sticky, though.

About one fifth of the dead are in uniform, the rest are dressed as civilians. The civilians are mostly a bit more decomposed than the soldiers, but they all suffer bullet and occasionally stab or bite wounds.

(OOC to Soma: 4 suxx.)

Morgan sighed, "Looks like the others didn't get the message." He frowns and adds, "This would have been better if we had coordinated. Thanks for your input James. Lets get out there and do some damage. I think those of us who can should hit them from behind. I'll carry you if you need a lift. I'll make the announcement for our people not to shoot at any but those closest to the compound."

He speaks for a moment into his comm, then the loud voice rings out again loud enough to be heard over the gunfire. "Attention! Attention! Concentrate your fire on those zombies in the front ranks. We have personel who will be hitting them from the rear. Do not, I repeat, do not shoot at our people. It should become obvious momentarily who those are."

Fox nods to James, "So how about it, need a lift?"

James draws his sword and says, "No, I'm good."

Walking outside he points to a section behind the hoard and says, "That look good to you?"

Fox smiles and nods, "That looks good, I'll take the area next to you." He removes a heavy assault rifle from his back and takes flight heading for the area behind the horde where he'd indicated. Once there he will open fire selectively making head shots from above staying out of reach of the zombies. He does his best to live up to the motto "One shot, one kill."

James leaps to the spot he'd pointed out and tries to retreat from the compound, swinging on any zomb that gets close to him and leaping away if he gets overwhelmed.

Fox shoots and James slashes, and gradually, with the help of the rest of the compound, the Dead are beaten down. Soon there's nothing left to see on the flat plain but unmoving corpses. Slowly people leak in, the gustier among them looting off the zombies, dogs running about wildly, barking, youths in and out of the compound boasting of their 'kills' (the veterans have mainly grown bored with this business). Attempts at maintaing order are forgotten, and the 'party' is back in full swing, all the wilder for this rush of adrenaline, this brush of the Dead, this reminder of their existence. People talk and laugh, children run and scream and laugh, dogs run and bark, food is cooked, items are sold, stories traded. But under it all is a tangible chill that can only be staved off by pretending it doesn't exist.

In the corner of the compound there are several men gathered around a female zombie they have captured and chained to their truck. Throngs of fascinated children and adults gather round. The zombie is naked from the waist up, her breasts pale but relatively intact. Her eyes, however, are horribly marred, their jellyish remains running down her face. The men take turns poking her with sticks, watching as she changes direction from one to the other. Some of them make jokes about her obvious 'desire' for the men, others simply watch her. Nobody bothers to clear the children away. They have seen worse.

Some yards away a tall black man watches the proceeds with a disapproving look and a large stick in his hand. He mutters under his breath about goddamn dumb shit rednecks and drums his fingers on the stick.

Fox wanders around the area verifying that the threat is over. When he sees the men poking at the zombie he quietly walks up behind them then says in a loud voice, "Boys, any of you scientists performing research on that zombie?" Seeing the blank looks on their faces he nods, and without haste or concern unholsters his engraved colt 1911 and calmly puts a bullet in it's brain. When it stops moving he just looks at the men, "Put that one with the others, and tomorrow I expect to see the lot of you helping to clear away the corpses." Seeing the various expressions of anger and embarrasement he adds, "Unless you have a cure for the Z plague that you haven't mentioned, it's best to put them down quickly. I don't allow zombies in the base no matter whether they are chained or not."

Once that is done he will make sure that the novas at the base are given the message that he wants to have a meeting the next morning, and that his men know to organize a detail to pile up all the corpses and burn them in the morning.

James killed, and killed, and killed, and he'd long since lost track of how many or how long it'd gone on before it was done. Finally he walked, very tired, back to the SUV that had brought them and sat with his back to one of the tires. His clothes were gore spattered many times over, his shirt in red rags.

Jillian claimed his sword and examined it. First wiping off the sword, she turned to examine him.

James said tiredly, "Carefull with the arms, that's infected blood, and I got bit again."

Off to one side JoAnna did a magic show with coins appearing and disappearing from the children.

When the carnage was finally over, Priest turned to Hawkins saying,
"Well, that didn't make any sense. This is a transient congregation point, so not likely to attact as much attention as a permanent settlement point. The locals here just aren't that numerous, or that close to another urban center. I don't get it."

Questions aside, Priet checks in on his people and does an ammo update as well. It would never do to run out of ammo. From there, he went to check in with the Man-In-Charge so see if there was any information on that end. The dead ... there presence here was unsettling, but maybe Fox had some answers.

Dan religiously adhered to the one shot, one kill rule. Finally when the horde was done he looked down to Priest and shrugged. "They're Zombies, They don't think in logical terms anymore. they just go where the sense food, namely us."

He looks around, cracking a smile. "Today, they had to settle for a big heap of bite-sized lead, and from the looks of things We got off without any casualties, so all in all not a bad day."

When Priest took off to see Fox, Dan Followed, after stowing most of his unused dear. He always carried at least the pistol, but the Rifle was overkill.

Seeing Fox walk pass after, James calls out.

"Yo! Fox!

James has a loud, booming voice. Assuming that Fox comes over and/or is willing to talk James continues,

"Serious issue man. Those millitary guys, the fresh zoms out there, there's too many of them. Somebody got over run, and that's a problem at this stage in the game. It's not supposed to happen to the well armed and well organized."

"And even if I'm wrong and they screwed up, there's probably some shut in survivors. We should check it out."

James abandons his shirt as a lost cause, and takes a sponge to clean up. A fresh shirt is already next to him, it's obvious this isn't the first time this has happened.

Fox stops to talk to James when he hears his name being boomed out. Listening he nods, "Yeah, that's what I'm thinkning." As he began to respond several others approached from other directions. He realized these were some of the other nova's at the base for the celebration. He waited until Dan and Priest arrived and seeing that they wanted to talk, "Well gentlemen, I was planning to meet with you all in the morning, but since you are here, let me send a runner to gather the others and we'll get it over with now." He called out to a group of kids playing tag and sent them on the mission. After a few minutes and some small talk about the celebration the others who chose to come were gathered.

"Ok, as I noted earlier, this group of zombies was just too big to be random chance. Plus, James here made a good observation, too many of those corpses were wearing uniforms, that means someone well defended got over run, it was probably the little military dictatorship just to the north. Problem is, they were well defended and shouldn't have fallen even if they were slaving under that prick, Norton. I don't think much of him and his methods but I sure wouldn't want to see any of the uninfected go down. James suggested some recognizance to see what might be left of the people there, and I think that's a good idea. You are all welcome to come along. Your skills would be very handy." He looked each of the gathered nova in the eye briefly to see their reactions.

"Meanwhile, I'm going to be issuing a few orders in the morning. That chain link fence has been plenty of protection until now but after tonight I'm not so sure any more. I'm going see that a real wall is built around the complex, complete with towers and ramparts to shoot from. That way if we ever seen another horde like tonight again we should be in better shape. It'll make this even safer for you when you visit too. If any of your people wouldn't mind helping out it would be appreciated." Fox closed his mouth and waited for the responses.

"I can start hitting some lumber yards and there's a cement factory a few towns over," Priest responds. "I also think I can jump start a Mixer for ya. Of course, fuel will be something of a problem, especially if we can bring in some earth movers for you as well."

With a smile, he as, "We'll expect some recompense in the future."

"I'm sure Leo will work with you to figure out the best design as well as just how much materials this place will need. Maybe she can hook you up with some flame-throwers to boot."

"Back to that compound over the hill ... I don't like the smell of this one bit. If there are survivors back there, and we should definitely look for some, this hoard leaving makes even less sense to compared to what we've come to understand. I think a light, fast team should volunteer for this run. The more that goes, the more we risk losing if they can't evade."

Fox nods at Priest's words. "Good sense there. We're close enough to Dallas that we should be able to get some serious building equipment pretty easy. As for recompense, if your guys help with the wall they will always be welcome here and can expect hospitality. If you want we can even build you a shop up here above ground inside the compound for you to sell and barter from."

He thinks for a moment, "I think we should just make the team folks like us with special abilities that have a higher than normal chance of survival should things go bad."

James nods,

"Agreed. And I'd say that's "when" things go bad."

James thinks a bit and says,

"So, are you going to fly us over?"

Fox thought about that for a minute, "Well, I guess I could, never done that before but it wouldn't be much different from carrying cargo. I'll have to rig something up to carry you guys in. I don't suppose any of you others can fly too eh?"

"I can fly so I'll go." Hawkins cracks a thin smile. "To be honest, I'd say it should probably just be those of us who can fly, or who can wade through any possible zombies who go. I'd also reccomend some of us need to remain here in case something else happens."

"It will take me a minute to get packed up again, but I could probably carry somebody else too. He shrugs better spend power than expend hard to replace fuel."

Fox nods, "That sounds good, but there is no rush, we'll wait until morning before leaving. It be a shame to get shot at by the defenders in the dark if there are any still alive. Also, I have radios for communication with my people here at the base so if something happens we can rush back. Our people should be able to handle it in any case unless it is something even bigger than the horde last night. Meanwhile, sleep a few hours if you can and meet me at the HQ at dawn." He looks around to see if anyone else has something to add.