Heading south through the ruins of forests past, with all those trees wavering and bending under their pine carriage. Cath feels the duffel bag weighing down, slamming the second full magazine into the M4, holding it tight in those shaking hands, coughing and sighing deep incapable breath, heading toward Moultonborough, keeping in the knowledge- somebody’s gotta be there. Somebody’s gotta help me.
She comes toward the back of a house, low ceiling and windows. Cracks open one of the panes of glass from the forest, peering inside. Eventually she determines it empty, climbs through the open window and settles in the bedroom. Yelping and moaning, from behind- under the window, a half-sized zombie whose jaw still rots. Catherine Foster turns around quick, centering the M4, and letting off one semiauto shot.
Sound rings from the house like mad, and every automata in the city perks up their dead ears. The short zombie slumps, head blown open. The woman with shirt and sweater shivers again, lowers the gun and approaches the door to the hall- gotta clear the house. She pops it open slow, letting a creak echo through the house, as all the house enters rustling motion. In seconds, a mob of them emerges from the bedroom’s glassy carapace, flooding the room. Panicked Cath slams the door shut as the house erupts into moans; creaking footsteps and the hallway slips into horror, shaking, bustling.
Running down its bending corridor as the walls to either side bust, plaster creaking as undead pour through. Firing one shot- held the trigger down too long, full auto, zombie dies and Cath falls, hitting the wall behind and hearing it crunch. The door to the room collapses, gotta run-- closet. As a mob comes through the front doors, Catherine opens the closet, smashing apart the shelving inside. Sudden pain, burning, horrible pain as one of them bites into her shoulder.
Turning- goddamnit, backing up into the closet and firing full-auto into the zombie’s neck as it sprays red. Another one streams in front of the closet door, blam! Another one… BLAM! They’re coming, Cath can’t breathe too well, kicking away a corpse in front of her, crying out- BLAM- get the closet closed, shutting, shutting, slam.
Moaning, creaking, echoed pain, all around- they’re all around. Trapped in a closet, Catherine Foster lets herself cry.
[spoiler]Did I mention that I have 2.5x spawn rate /and/ fast zombies? Yeah.
No deaths yet OOC, but that changes. Yes- this was the first result. I got in the house, fucking SWARMED, let loose ~20 bullets, broke into a closet as I was shooting the numerous zombies around, hid inside until I killed something like 6 of them, moved the corpses, closed the door, hid for like an hour. Was scary as shit as I hadn’t even begun savescumming.[/spoiler]