Violet heard James as she stormed off but didn't stop. She yelled half over her shoulder back at him, "Don't tell me, tell it that stupid bitch! She attacked us not viceversa!"

She was really getting angry...

Rhonda came scrambling up behind Sarah. When she looked up and saw Voilet in distress she ran up, meeting her half way.

"What's wrong?" Then, "Hold up."
Rhonda grabbed Violet's wrist and drug her toward the truck, not stopping until she had drawn Violet up to the relative safetly of the running boards on the passanger's side of the vehicle.

"Now, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
Her doe eyes are filled with concern even as she slings her rifle over her shoulder.

"That stupid bitch who ambushed us is wrong!", Violet pointed vaguely at the direction she came from. "And my boyfriend is trying to tell me I shouldn't make things worse - it's the end of the world, for god's sake. Lets blow ourselves up, why don't we?!", Violet was fuming.

"But... I don't care about that! I refuse to drag myself down because of that. We are alive and as long as I am alive I will not give in to despair.", Violet calmed down just a little bit and only now realized who she was talking to. Her eyes locked with Rhonda's and she smiled briefly. "Thank you... excuse me", Violet entered the truck and sat down trying to shake off her frustration.

Cautiously Dan makes his way inside the Walmart. It reeks of the dead, but he knew it could still contain things they could use. He stays up in the girder-like rafters, with his pistol drawn, just in case there happens to be zombies still inside.

(((OOC Dan is now making a survey of the store for any sort of supplies they could use, batteries, Ammunition, sealed can foods, Any First aid, medical supplies, and pharmaceuticals in the pharmacy department, Tires and even seeds in the garden department. He isn't moving fast but he is thirty feet above the ground.)))

James yells back,

"I was talking to her. You're not the one trying to kill people."

((Violet, James and Co.))

For a moment, it looks like the woman (the incredibly, almost irresistably gorgeous woman, James and Violet both notice) is going to ignore the insult, but her mouth twitches. "Spoiled little brat, aren't you?" she asks Violet rhetorically, clutching James and trying to inch behind and closer to him, using him as a human shield. Her breath tickles the back of his neck lightly. "My name is Erica." She smiles at Violet, but there is a lean, hard edge to the smile.

She smiles sweetly at James. "It's getting worse anyway. Eventually it won't be able to get any worse because the worst will have come and gone. The end is better than the journey there, surely?"

((@Morgan and Jules))

The stench was nearly unbearable with her nose 'turned up' all the way; unbearable, and difficult to sort through, but through the other meaningless tripe drifted a familar smell; Ben. It was very faint, as best she could figure it was emanating from a small, secure-looking shed in a matchingly cramped little park.

((Dan))

In the garden department most of the seeds have mysteriously vanished. As he drifts out of the garden department and through the reeking deli, he heard odd slurping sounds from deeper in the almost overlarge store. And voices....moans?

Something.

"There! Morgan, that shed!" Jules cried, pointing and tugging lightly on his shoulder. She felt a shiver of relief, but it was drowned out a deep fear: why couldn't she smell Cal? Where was Horse? Ben, please be alright.

Morgan made straight for the shed and did a quick circle around it before setting down. He hefted the rifle and kept a good eye on the area while he waited for Jules to coax her son out of the shed. His military training wouldn't let him relax until they were all safely back with the others. "Convince him to come out Jules. We need to get back to the others as fast as possible. I fly at a good speed, but catching up will be a bitch if we dally."

"Ben. Benjamin, come on out, right now," Jules called, stepping closer to the shed. She peered at the door, trying to see if it were locked, if he were trapped inside. "Honey, we need to get moving... and I have a surprise for you! So come on!"

Priets goes,
"Excuse me," as he hustles past Violet and exits the truck. He runs over to were James and the prisoner are coming along.

"Can we get a fu - damn move on. I don't like waiting out here for some other nut job to come along and make this day any worse."

Looking definitely at James,
"Move her along. If she doesn't want to come along - break something. I'm all for saving other people, but not the lives of assholes at the expense of my own. No thank you."

By this time, the only people not aboard the truck is James, Erica, and now Priest. Priest is tense and a bit pissed off, but hardly off his game.

Dan quietly makes his way to the sounds of the moaning, remaining near the roof, his gun following his eyes as he scans the area. He does all he can to avoid making noise, The edge of supprise wasn't worth giving away yet.

(((OOC He's gonna move to find the source of the sounds, do you want me to roll or what?))

James let her get closer but didn't let his grip loosen. He gave her an easy smile back and said gently,

"The journey is the goal Erica. In the long run, yeah, we're in the grave. But that's always been true and I'm in no rush. Before I die I'll watch the zoms rot into helplessness. I'll sire children too for that matter. Humanity will muddle through this."

((Jules))

The door wasn't locked; it swung open at her touch. It was dark in the shed, but she could still see in...There was...Ben....Ben was laying down, bits of bone strewn around him.

He didn't look alive. The man standing over him with, broken, elongated bloody teeth didn't either.

A bit of Ben dangled from his mouth as the creature turned to regard Jules with a somehow insidiously blank expression. Half his face was a mask of ground hamburger, one eye lost, punctured, inside the swirling, atrophied viscera. Jules dimly noted that this...creature's teeth were too long....to be...human...

Jules felt as though she were drowning.

((Disorient; roll Willpower against two successes))

((Dan))

Several zombies came into view, hunkered over the corpses of half-chewed men, rifles still clutched in their dead hands. From the back, beyond where customers usually tread, came the moans...and quieter sobbing.

((James))

"Humanity may muddle through it, but we won't," she replied, lips twisted halfway between a smile and a grimace. "I think your friend has decided it's time to go."

A dead man in a ragged business suit stumbled towards them; the woman curled into him, though the look on her face was more amusement than fear. Her eyes sparkled merrily. "And as far as I'm concerned, humanity's heart is already dead."

Someone was screaming, a terrible noise. But that was far, far away, where Jules wasn't seeing the monster try to kill her child. It was trying to kill, because it couldn't kill him because she wasn't dead yet and he wouldn't die unless she was already dead because he was her baby, her little Ben, and God/the Thunder Bird/the Great Spirit wouldn't steal her baby from her, not after taking Danny and Sami and everything - everyone else. He'd be fine, just fine. Just fine.

Just fine.

She was hitting something, aiming for a gruesome head, just as she'd learned to do. She couldn't breathe and she realized that she was screaming, a warcry that sounded more like a banshee's shriek than any Indian's whoop. She paused to take a ragged breath before screaming again, and she realized that the wretched scream she'd heard was coming from her. It was wordless and primal, the warning cry that thousands of years of instinct were being triggered in a mad Protect the offspring reaction that left no room for any response other than attack. But the creature before her spoke another language, one far simpler and emptier, and it couldn't understand any instinct but Eat.

A mother's love slammed into the mindless consumer of flesh.

[OOC:
Resist against Disorient attack (1d10=4, 1d10=6, 1d10=1, 1d10=7, 1d10=7, 1d10=2, 1d10=10) = 3 success, shakes off the Disorient
Dexterity plus Martial Arts, last die is...d10=3, 1d10=10) = 4 successes on the attack]

Dan takes careful aim and fires at the back of the heads of the Zombies.

(OOC OK I'm there, they're distracted and haven't noticed me. I want to attack them all in rapid succession. How many are there and what sort of penalty to the roll am I looking at?))

For just a moment Morgan stood behind Jules with the gun ready. When the door swung open it took a moment to register fully what he was seeing. This zombie wasn't like the others, but it was... it had killed his nephew. Then Jules started screaming and it was the worst sound Morgan had ever heard in his life. As bad as it was that his nephew was dead, Jules was devastated. This abomination needed to be put down. He quickly took aim and fired a shot at it's head.

James responds,

"Erica, why the eagerness to leap into the grave? When Death finally comes he'll have to drag me away kicking and screaming. As for humanity's heart, we've all been hurt and watched loved ones die. If the choices are curling up somewhere and dying or living with the hurt, then I'll live. This is like high school, it's awful but it gets better."

James watched the dead man stumble towards them and when he was close enough James grabbed him by the neck with one hand and squeezed.

"James you travel pretty fast right?" Priest says as he turns back to the truck cab. Priest doesn't believe that the girl, and certaintly not the zombie, are going to slow the big man down. He takes off and jumps onto the running board.

"Time to go."
The truck immediately jerks to a start and starts heading toward town.

In rapid succession Dan fires and shifts targets, all three of the zombies' heads exploding into gore as he shoots them and descends to the floor. He quickly and quietly makes his rounds of the dead bodies, and shoots each of them once in the temple. Only then does he call out.

"Are there still any survivors? Has anyone been bitten or touched by one of the zombies. I am Captain Daniel Hawkins of the United States Marine Corps. I'm here to help, is anyone else alive here?" He tuned his awareness of the surroundings as much as he could hoping there were still some who could be saved, even as a much more disturbing thought entered his mind. If there are survivors it is likely they can't defend themselves and I'll have to do it all. Our chances of success drop drastically with each survivor.

He frowns at the thought, and himself. He'd never have thought that way seven months ago. "A marine's duty it to protect those who can't do it themselves. I will do mine." His voice is barely a whisper, a near silent affirmation of his duty to himself.

((Dan))
A choked voice with a very strong Southern accent called out, "I'm in the back on toppa some crates! Is it safe to come down?"

((Jules&Morgan))

The monster reeled from Jules punch, nearly bending backward. The bullet shot between them and into the wall of the shed. The creature lunged for her, tearing a chunk of shoulder as Morgan's next bullet tore the top of its neck, breaking the spine and sending the head sagging. It screamed and fell back, a strangely human sound, though distorted with rusty, dessicated vocal cords. For a moment, the creature was distracted...and Morgan's third bullet tore through its brain. It fell lifeless to the ground. Next to Ben.

He wasn't breathing.

Dan scans the area and walks looking down each aisle for any zombies. Satisfied that all hostiles are thouroughly dead, at least in this small area he answers. "Yes, the zombies are dead, and those they killed won't be coming back. Is there anyone else here?"

James was non-plussed but not alarmed to see his ride drive off. He increased pressure on the dead man until the bones under his hand gave way. Seeing how it was just him and Erica against the hundreds of zombies closing in, he shrugged and said,

"I could stay and fight them for a few hours but there's no point. Let's go."

Keeping his grip on Erica he pulled her arm around herself then picked her up into his arms and leaped towards the city everyone else had headed too.

Jules snapped from insane-monster-killing-mother to nurturing mother in a heartbeat, spinning and dropping to her knees next to her son. "Ben! Ben, baby, wake up!" she cried, her fingers moving to his neck, feeling for a pulse.

He would be fine. He would be. C'mon, baby, sweetie, c'mon. Wake up for Mommy... Mommy needs you, so just wake up!

[[Whether or not she finds one, she'll start CPR, using chest compressions and breathing as appropriate. She has a total of 7 dice in medicine.]]

Morgan put down the creature and then turned to watch Jules try to revive her son. It was probably a hopeless thing, but it was worth trying for his nephew. Still, he was torn between helping and guarding their backs from further attacks. In the end the very competent way that Jules moved through the steps convinced him not to get in her way.

As she worked tirelessly Morgan looked at the body of the monster. That had been no normal zombie. It had done something when they first entered... he wasn't sure what but for just a moment there Jules had been phased and hesitant. It could have been what she was seeing with Ben, but somehow he didn't think so.

He briefly considered finding something to put the zombie's remains in for later examination, but just couldn't bring himself to do it. That's it focus on the tasks at hand, don't think about your nephew. Too much to do, and we need to get out of this alive. And if I keep telling myself that maybe I'll actually believe it.

Morgan swallowed hard and did his best to focus.

((Morgan&Jules))

Ben had no pulse. It didn't matter how much air Jules breathed into his lungs, or how many chest compressions she did...Ben was not breathing. Ben's heart was not beating. Lights off. Nobody home. And it was no wonder, really...his skull was bloody, one hand appeared to have been bitten off, one leg broken, his chest was one long bloody gash and various small chunks had been ripped off his arms and legs.

It was an odd thing..but no zombie ventured into this park; indeed, only one or two were in sight from where Morgan stood and they showned no inclination to get any closer.

Maybe it was the atmosphere...maybe it was Ben...but this shed didn't feel right. Jules didn't notice, but Morgan felt it, as an unpleasant tickling in the back of his mind, like someone handling your innards with dirty hands. This place was not right.

Morgan registered the sensations and decided it was time to go. Pulling Jules to her feet, "I'm sorry, but Ben is gone. We need to get out of here." He looked around the shed quickly for a gas can or some other means to completely destroy the shed.

"I'm not leaving him here," Jules said, her voice strained - no, broken. She grabbed the shirt which she had been using as a bandage and wrapped it around him. "He needs to be taken care of. I'm his mother. I can't - won't leave him."

Cradling him, she picked him up. "We can go now... we should... Cal... maybe he's ok." There was no hope in her voice. As Morgan watched, she shifted Ben so that his head rode on her shoulder. "It's ok," she said. She didn't appear to be talking to anyone, or not anyone there. "We'll get somewhere safe, and then I'll get you to bed. And a bath. A bed high in the sky, like you wanted when I told you about Sioux scaffolds. Remember, that book I read when you were five?"

Jules left the shed and started walking, then stopped. "Which way should we go, Morgan?" Dazed eyes looked to him for guidance.

Morgan exited the shed and looked around to see if the others were in evidence then back at Jules, "Up." He grabbed her around the waist from behind so that she could hold onto what was left of her son and lifted off. From the air he made a couple circuits calling out the names of her other companion, "Cal... Cal..."

If they don't get a response after he has circled out from the shed a hundred yards or so he will make a bee line back to the road and try to catch up with the others.

Movement out of the corner of Morgan's eye. And then the car blocking an alleyway pulled out and lurched toward them, a horse emerging behind. The front was completely mangled, and two tires were out, but it lurched on regardless, sideswiping a zombie shambling toward it. Cal's face was visible in the driver's seat, bloody and grim.

((Dan))

"No...just me." A sniffle, and the sound of a body moving against something, and then a small, haggard woman appeared in the double doors, her once-white shirt and jeans dirty and caked with blood, her eyes red from crying, her dark hair too grey for her pinched face. A wooden baseball bat dangled from one hand. "Didn't think there was nobody left in the city. You come way out here alone?"

At seeing her caked with blood it took some control not to aim the gun at her, but he held himself in check. "I've told you my name, what about yours? Who are you? Have you been bitten, did any of them touch you?"

He shakes his head as he finishes his litany of question and answers hers. "There are others on their way. We ran into difficulties on the way here, but the others are inbound."

He gestures to her clothing with his free hand. "You need to change clothes. Come on." He leads her back to the clothing section. "Get what you need and go change out of those dirty clothes. If that blood came from one of the infected you could become one o