Post-Apocalyptic RP:Zombies

No worries And I was aware of you suggestions, but they seemed to be made more toward Darkness' character.

Alas, James came to his senses and hopped into the car and started it up. I was begin to think he was mad and wanted to dumbly sacrifice himself, in front of all of us, with those things. I was either gonna have to force him to hand the keys over to me and put him in the car myself, or just bolt on out of here by foot and let him get eaten; but letting a man die really wasn't an option under the circumstance. We needed as many people alive as possible; even though that may mean to use some of them, in the future, as a meat-sponge to act as bait and allow the rest of us to escape.
We moved swiftly through the burnt bodies and carnage. I could still feel the heat coming off of some of the bodies as we passed by them. I adjusted myself in the seat, the broken glass continued to break under the weight of my feet. I looked out through the open window, just realizing I had just destroyed the property of another person. "to hell with it!" I thought. There are a bunch of other cars out here in the open for anyone's liking. But I still feel awkward about it, especially now that James remains quiet and cruises around the wreckage with the car's radio turned to static. Who does he think he is anyway? I'm no child. Giving me the silent treatment will not work on me. This man. He gets to me. I was about to apologize about ruining his car's window, not that it mattered, but he broke the silence before I could and told me to keep the dead a safe distance from the vehicle.
"yeah" I replied, pushing the cylinder out from the revolver and slamming it back in to emphasize my understanding. Not like three bullets is gonna do much if we encounter a swarm of them. We pulled up in front of Timo.

 

Welcome to the RP, Pretrenko
No more reports for the shooter, across town, rang down on us. I said, replying to Timo, "well, we're blocked off in both directions right now, and we're going to have to go toward the direction where our shooter is hiding out if we want to get out of here. The preacher said his cabin is in some direction over there anyway, so we really have no choice but to go over there if we want a way of defending our selves, and I mean really defending ourselves."

 

Yup, I was thinking the same, too. For those who are at the grocery store: I'm going to start at the hotel TotalAaron is staying at, the next time I RP (which will be tomorrow) and go from there. If we have become separated from each other, our originally stated rendezvous point will still be at the edge of town so we could all go to TheDarknessEnvelops' creepy cabin in the woods.

 

I went in, crashing through the backdoor of the hotel building and stumbled over a small embankment of janitor’s cleaning supplies. I managed to knock over the mop bucket with a chunky orange stew inside of it and got it over my jacket; it stunk, leaving a sour pungent smell soaked into its threads. Two dead walkers were in my pursuit were now quickly making their way toward me, hunched over with their arm extended, for their next meal. The one closest to me lost its balance when it walked over the orange stew and fell forward with ease. It had landed, chin first, on the hard white tile and a loud crunch of breaking bone was heard. I pulled back the revolver’s hammer and squeeze the trigger at the head of the one standing up. It slumped forward and fell to the side on the one with the broken chin. Blood mixed smoothly with the chunky orange stew. The crimson red made cheerful swirls on the chunky orange canvas. “A master’s piece,” I though. “Twenty years from now, some artist nut-job is going to find this and have a construction crew remove this giant arrangement of tiles with the dead bodies on them and have it hung up in a museum. ” I never understood these artists. They produce shit that even a day-old-child could reproduce, and then they sell it for millions of dollars. Just dumb.

I got up after the third try of having my legs slip up from underneath me and turned the corner where a majestic flight of wooden stairs made their way to the tippy-top of the hotel. Stiff rags soaked with blood littered the floor of the main area the hotel’s entrance. I grabbed onto the wood railing of the stairway and double stepped each step. More dead came bursting through where I had been lying in the orange chunky soup (now a master’s piece). “Shit!” I said, turning my double step a sprint to the top.

Each stair well lead to a hallway of rooms before you had to turn, again, to you left, before reaching a new set of stairs. On the third floor, I bumped into three unsuspecting dead that were wandering the hallway who speculating where their room service boy was with their dinner. Lucky for them, there food had just shown up and it was still warm. I moved past the first one with ease and pushed the second one over the railing of the stairs. The third one stood at the base of the next set of stairs…it was a woman wearing a set of pajamas with a bloody giraffe on her blouse. I pulled out my rock pick, closed my eyes, and swung it at her head. I heard a crack and I briefly thought of the way a coconut sounded when you smashed it open. The thought of it was a little unsettling. Her body dropped and her weight pulled me down slightly as I was still holding on to the rock pick. I opened my eyes and she was more than dead –if that makes sense- and was leaning limp to one side. I dropped the revolver and use my free hand to help the other dislodge the pick from the lady’s skull. She moved around freely like a puppet would to puppet master’s choice of pulled strings every time I yanked at the pick. The dead stiff I had walked passed earlier was now nearing closer. Letting go of the handle of the pick, I lunged forward to where the revolver lay, grabbed it at fired of my last bullet into its skull. “I hope the sniper guy heard that shot. He had too!” I thought.

I scurried over back to the dead madam wearing my rock pick as a party hat and jerk it free from her head. Seconds later, a steady stream of blood pored out from the newly formed cavity. “There’s the coconut milk,” I said. I ran up the last flight of stair to where the snipe was staying. A posse of hungry folk roamed outside his door.

 

Is anyone gonna wright something? I was about to go up to the door TotalAaron's behind of and start knocking on it; only to start singing "knock, knock, knocking on Aaron's door. Hey, hey, hey, hey, yeah! Knock, knock, knocking on Aaron's door!!" If that's what it takes to get this thing started. If not that, then I think maybe I got a little too ahead of myself and left you guys, in the dust, without asking. I'm fine going back to the grocery store (no problem) and continuing on from there.

 

Noooo, Aaron . Depending on what everyone else's reply is, I might need to do the same; but hopefully not, though. I just thought that it was rather twitchy, the sniper/explosion/zombie scene, and it was difficult to decide what to do in the heat of the moment.

 

Thanks

 

I'm okay with that . And zedheads....Zedheads, what a great name for the zombies. All this time, I have been trying to think of a good enough title to give to a zombie rather than "zombie." I was going to go with Walker, but then I would have felt like I was ripping it off from the Walking Dead; so I just went with corpse, dead, etc.

I cocked my head with haste to the sound of of another person -a female voice. I jolted my hand in gesture for her to stop her talking. Doesn't she see what's in front of us? In front of me specifically?! It's like some kind of prank. The universe has always had a cruel way to jumble up my life and put me in impossible situations; but I always manage to surpass these obstacles that the universe has dished out to me with dumb luck. I can only imagine what's in store for me next.
My heart was racing as I tried to decide what to do. Zedheads in front of me and someone standing a few steps behind me. I didn't even hear her sneak up like that. Damn you, Robby. Are you loosing your hearing or what? Who ever it is, standing back there, shouldn't be stupid enough to kill her only assistance she has right now to fend off these zedheads. Besides,the only threat, right now is them and not me. I quickly made a move and lunged forward to the closest zedhead, who now new of our presence and alerted the rest, and swung my rock pick to the side of its head. Another coconut down; four to go. With that, I clicked my revolvers hammer back and fired away my last bullet before scurrying down in the direction of whoever was behind me; three to go. I stumbled upon my own foot work and crashed down several stairs before saying "they all your's!".

 

My right leg throbbed with excruciating pain, but I could mange to shake it off. "To that door," I said, pointing to room 43 atop of the stairs. What the heck did she say to me..."suka." It sounds like a type of alcoholic drink. "There! We need to go there!" Some zeds had been attracted to the sound of gunshots and begun making their way to our position. A few of the old tenants steadily came out of the darkened hallways below and clumsily climbed the stairs. long shadows from ahead formed on the walls. I got up and double stepped the set of stairs, briefly nudging the woman with the handgun to get her to follow.
Reclaiming my rockpick, I could see that to my right, a few more zedheads popped up. I swung my pick at the heavy door with brute force. Only nickle-sized dents scratched the surface of the door. I pounded my fist on the dense door and didn't get a response. "We need to get this door open! Quick, look for something we could try and pry this door!" I searched through some broken boards that were scattered off to the side, but they were all to wide to wedge into the door for good leverage.