Terminal Illness - C3O Short

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coinsruledude
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Terminal Illness - C3O Short

Postby coinsruledude » Sat Dec 15, 2012 11:58 pm

PART 1

[November 4th, 2012 – 7:01 PM]

The school bus sputtered as it came to a slow stop.

The yellow paint on the vehicle was no longer yellow; it had been repainted a dull black to make it harder to spot. However, the bus was dented and scratched up so much that the original yellow showed through in some spots.
Most of the many windows were boarded up, using plywood, scrap metal, and wooden planks. The back seats were removed to make room for a horde of supplies: gas, food, water, ammunition, and another miscellaneous things.

The driver, Jeffrey Bednarski, put the bus in park.

He had a scraggly, black beard that covered most of his face. His eyes were sunken into his head, and his cheekbones stuck prominently out of his face.

The Canadian military uniform (http://mpmuseum.org/securuniform/cadpat/cadpat.jpg, on the right) he was wearing made him look like a soldier, but in reality he was no such thing; he was just a retired police officer who happened to find the uniform during his very brief stay in Vancouver. He had an M16 hanging from his chest.

Antonio Valela and Hutch Ferguson looked to the front of the bus from where they were seated. They were friends of Jeff’s son, Matt, and happened to run into Jeff on their mad dash to Vancouver.

“Why’re we stopping?” Hutch asked, pushing his blonde hair out of his face.
“There’s a crashed semi blocking the street.” Jeff replied.

Jeff, Hutch, and Antonio arrived in Vancouver shortly after it started to fall. They stayed just long enough to recuperate and resupply. Now, they were a few hundred miles east of the doomed safe zone and heading south, back towards the states.

“Is there another way around?” Antonio asked.
He was a black Italian, which surprised a lot of people. His left arm was broken in a scuffle with the Last Judgement, and a doctor in Vancouver put it in a cast.

“I think we need to turn around an’ go back the other way,” Hutch said. He was looking at a map that Jeff tacked up on the inside of the bus. “Either that or push the semi outta the way.”

“Then let’s turn around. We can’t push that thing out of the way.”
Jeff maneuvered the bus into a 180-degree turn on the narrow road and drove the other way. Only a few minutes of travel later, however, they rounded a corner and nearly had a head-on collision with a black sedan.

Brakes screeched and weapons were drawn from both parties.

~

Jhonny Macrillo drew his .45 Sig Sauer. It wasn’t uncommon to run into Last Judgement this far north, even though they were out of the gang’s territory. He and his crew abandoned Salt Lake City when the military started mobilizing. Their group was whittled down until it was just one car-full of people.

The drug pusher was wearing black slacks and a black suit coat over a stained white T-shirt. He was also wearing dark sunglasses, even though the sun was all but gone from the sky.

“What do we do?” a voice asked quietly from the driver’s seat. It was Jhonny’s long-time friend and only surviving bodyguard, Marco Miller.
He was average height and muscular, and although his tattooed body was old, he was still one hell of a bodyguard: he once broke a man’s jaw because he spit at Jhonny. He wore a red bandana to conceal his total baldness.

No one moved for another few seconds.

“Should we get out?” another voice asked. The voice belonged to Wade Nowak.
Wade was a freelance ‘professional’, as he liked to be called. He did Jhonny’s dirty work, like killing other drug dealers and leading gang wars.
Although rendered blind in his right eye by a soldier during the Salt Lake exodus, Wade was still a good shot with his compound bow. He was tall and lean, and his greasy black hair hung wildly in his face.

The woman known to the men only as Krista huffed from the back seat. “I say shoot that **** up.”
Krista was a stripper who regularly worked in Jhonny’s hideout. She skin was sickly yellow, she was anorexic, and she was addicted to multiple drugs. No man ever touched her, even though she didn’t believe in the no-touching rule, because she was rumored to be riddled with STDs.

“Wait for them to make a move,” Jhonny said, still smoking his cigarette. "We ain't exactly in a hurry."
Last edited by coinsruledude on Wed Nov 06, 2013 9:06 pm, edited 2 times in total.
"You can only talk rubbish if you're aware of knowledge." ~Karl Pilkington
"**** it, it's late. Change it later." ~Me and Teddy

coinsruledude
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Re: Terminal Illness - C3O Short

Postby coinsruledude » Sat Dec 15, 2012 11:58 pm

The name of this short will make more sense in the later parts
"You can only talk rubbish if you're aware of knowledge." ~Karl Pilkington
"**** it, it's late. Change it later." ~Me and Teddy

TheTeddyguy
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Re: Terminal Illness - C3O Short

Postby TheTeddyguy » Sun Dec 16, 2012 1:06 am

Good stuff so far, it's cool seeing things happening within the universe that does not directly involve anyone from the original group.
"**** it, it's late."-Coins "Change it later."-Teddy
"She had a face like a bulldog licking **** off a nettle."-Jingles
"so he resigned himself to dying in a trash can."

Smerg
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Re: Terminal Illness - C3O Short

Postby Smerg » Sun Dec 16, 2012 3:20 am

TheTeddyguy wrote:Good stuff so far, it's cool seeing things happening within the universe that does not directly involve anyone from the original group.
"If all else fails: duck. As a method of defense it's unreliable, but incredibly reassuring for a second or two." - Unknown

coinsruledude
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Re: Terminal Illness - C3O Short

Postby coinsruledude » Sun Dec 16, 2012 4:41 am

PART 2

[November 4th, 2012 – 7:05 PM]

The standoff didn’t show any sign of letting up, so Jhonny decided to be as friendly as possible and avoid any conflict. He opened the sedan’s passenger door and climbed out, holstering his Sig Sauer in the process. When Jeff saw the other man put his weapon away, he opened the bus door by pulling a lever. Antonio and Hutch climbed out of the bus, followed closely by Jeff and his M16.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Jhonny said, maneuvering his cigarette to the corner of his mouth. “Are you folks heading to Vancouver too?”
“Vancouver’s falling.” Jeff said. His rife was pointed at the drug dealer’s chest.

“I told ya!” Marco yelled, climbing out of the sedan. There was a fifteen foot no-man’s-land between the two groups. “I told ya the people on the radio was telling the truth!”

“Bullshit,” Krista said loudly. “Vancouver can’t fall.”
“Sorry to break it to you, lady,” Hutch said. He gripped a crowbar tightly in both hands. “But it did. We left not that long ago.”

“Well, in any case we need to get past your bus here,” Wade said. “It has to be better in Vancouver than anywhere else.”

“Actually, it’s being seized by Last Judgement,” Jeff replied. “So unless you’re seeking to be members for life, then I suggest turning around. Besides, a few miles up from where we are now a truck is blocking the road.”

“Well, ****,” Jhonny said. He thought for a moment. “Are you folks well off? I mean, do you have food and water and everything?”
“We have enough for us,” Jeff said sternly. “If you’re looking for handouts you’ll have to go somewhere else.”

“I don’t want your goddamn handouts,” Jhonny said indignantly. “I wanted to ask if you’re willing to trade anything. We’re low on gas.”

Antonio, Hutch, and Jeff whispered amongst one another for a second.
“Do you have ammo?” Hutch asked. “Or weapons?”

Marco grinned.

~

“Take your pick, boys.”

The two groups converged behind the sedan, where Marco displayed an impressive armory of weapons. Firearms lined the inside of the trunk, ready to be fired. Boxes of ammo were stacked up, a tribute to the power Jhonny held in Utah.

They came to an agreement: Jeff would give Jhonny fifty gallons of gas in exchange for two guns and some ammo. The two groups would also backtrack on the road together until they decided to part ways.

“It’s nice to finally meet some respectable people these days,” Wade said, and Jeff nodded to him. “It’s all Last Judgement and zombies up here.”

Antonio grabbed a Glock 23 pistol from the sedan and hefted it in his hands. Jeff looked at the weapon.

His vision blurred.

He was in Washington D.C., in the hotel room. Matt was lying on one of the beds texting.

“Matt, I’m going to check to see when the buses will be here.”
“Alright,” his son replied, sitting up. “I might go to the lobby with Hutch to watch the news on the TV in there.”

Another blur.
The bus was pulling away, and there were people running everywhere.
“Matt?” Jeff yelled. “Matt?!”

Jeff started to run after the bus. His head was pounding, and his vision was getting fuzzy around the edges. But the bus kept pulling farther and farther away. The road stretched on forever.

“Matt!”

A bloodied woman lunged at Jeff. He reached for his pistol, but his hand found nothing, not even a holster. He left it in the hotel room. The woman’s teeth tore into his shoulder.

“Matt!”

“Mr. Bednarski!”

Jeff opened his eyes. He was lying on the ground next to the sedan, with Hutch and Antonio standing over him. Jhonny looked quizzically at him.

“Are you okay?” Antonio asked.
Jeff shakily stood up. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You sure?” Jhonny asked, attempting to light a new cigarette. “You look pretty pale.”
“I’m fine,” Jeff repeated. He stood up and dusted himself off. “I’m just hungry, I guess…we’re rationing pretty hard.”

“Well, let’s get this show on the road,” Wade said, gingerly touching the bloody pad that covered his useless right eye. “We need to find somewhere to make camp. It’s getting pretty dark.”

Antonio took the Glock from Marco, and Hutch took a Remington 51 pistol. They both received a few boxes along with their guns.
The groups piled back into their respective vehicles and started heading north again.
Last edited by coinsruledude on Wed Nov 06, 2013 9:06 pm, edited 1 time in total.
"You can only talk rubbish if you're aware of knowledge." ~Karl Pilkington
"**** it, it's late. Change it later." ~Me and Teddy

TheTeddyguy
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Re: Terminal Illness - C3O Short

Postby TheTeddyguy » Sun Dec 16, 2012 4:52 am

You should do what I'm doing and make a map on google maps of where your guys are and what not.
"**** it, it's late."-Coins "Change it later."-Teddy
"She had a face like a bulldog licking **** off a nettle."-Jingles
"so he resigned himself to dying in a trash can."

coinsruledude
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Re: Terminal Illness - C3O Short

Postby coinsruledude » Sun Dec 16, 2012 5:14 am

TheTeddyguy wrote:You should do what I'm doing and make a map on google maps of where your guys are and what not.

https://maps.google.com/maps/ms?ie=UTF& ... ffec1036d3
"You can only talk rubbish if you're aware of knowledge." ~Karl Pilkington
"**** it, it's late. Change it later." ~Me and Teddy

TheTeddyguy
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Joined: Sun Jul 24, 2011 4:03 am
Location: Writin' or Jeepin'.

Re: Terminal Illness - C3O Short

Postby TheTeddyguy » Sun Dec 16, 2012 5:22 am

Alright. Do you wish you had kept Matt and Ashley alive now?
"**** it, it's late."-Coins "Change it later."-Teddy
"She had a face like a bulldog licking **** off a nettle."-Jingles
"so he resigned himself to dying in a trash can."

coinsruledude
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Re: Terminal Illness - C3O Short

Postby coinsruledude » Sun Dec 16, 2012 5:27 am

Not really
"You can only talk rubbish if you're aware of knowledge." ~Karl Pilkington
"**** it, it's late. Change it later." ~Me and Teddy

coinsruledude
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Joined: Wed Nov 24, 2010 7:36 pm
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Re: Terminal Illness - C3O Short

Postby coinsruledude » Sun Dec 16, 2012 3:45 pm

PART 3

[November 4th, 2012 – 9:08 PM]

The group had to backtrack through the city of Kelowna in order to keep traveling south. Driving was slow, due to the cumbersome bus and constant obstacles they had to avoid. After driving for a few more hours, the survivors set up their camp in a small house just outside the city of Peachland.

Marco made a fire in the front yard. The light from the fire wasn’t visible from the street, due to the parked bus, which made their camp almost invisible to the human eye.

“So who are you people?” Antonio asked, once everyone was gathered together.

“I’m not going to lie,” Jhonny said slowly, mentally debating about how much to say. “You might not like what you hear.”

“My name is Jhonny Macrillo, and I was the biggest drug dealer in Utah before Salt Lake City fell. Marco here is my bodyguard, Wade is my right-hand man, and that’s Krista. Things were going great until the military took over.”

“They shot and killed with no discretion whatsoever. Me and my crew packed as much product into our cars as possible and left. At first we were all one big convoy, all fifty-seven of us…but the military, zombies, Last Judgement, and infighting took all but us four.”

“Were you a drug dealer before the apocalypse?” Jeff asked.
“Yep. One of the biggest in Vegas.” Jhonny boasted.

“What about you?” Wade asked.

“I was a cop.”

No one moved. Jhonny’s ever-present cigarettes drooped slightly in his mouth.

“I don’t care what you did before the zombie apocalypse,” Jeff said. “We’re all in this together now, mostly.” Everyone relaxed a little.

“Are these your boys or something?” Wade asked, looking at Hutch and Antonio. “He can’t be, at least. He’s black.”

“No, family friends. Antonio and Hutch. All three of us were in D.C. when it all happened. We got separated, and met up again right outside of Vancouver a few months later.”

“You were in D.C.?” Krista asked, suddenly attentive. “I haven’t seen many people who survived the first outbreak in D.C.”

“We were on a field trip, but **** kinda went down, ya know? Uh, our friend was his son.” Hutch said, gesturing at Jeff.
“Well, I’m sorry about your boy.” Marco said.
“We don’t know for sure that he’s dead.” Jeff grunted, staring into the fire.

“Maybe he got to one of the safe zones by himself,” Wade said. “You never know. People can surprise you.”

“Anyway, we were on a bus full of our friends and classmates, right?” Antonio said, scratching his cast. “It took us months to get from D.C. to Vancouver. There were tons of us at first, but then the food ran out. We started to starve, kids committed suicide, they killed each other…eventually it was just me, Hutch, and the bus driver, and she got bitten right after Jeff ran into us outside of Vancouver. That’s where we were attacked by Last Judgement, and they broke my arm…”

“When we were escaping Salt Lake City, a soldier lunged at me with his knife. He just barely nicked me,” Wade said, pointing at the bloody patch on his face. “It’s still throbbing, and it happened days ago. Be glad they just broke your arm, kid.”

“There was also this group of soldiers who demanded that we give them our food,” Marco said. Out of habit, he started rubbing his finger along his Mossberg 88’s barrel. “This was when our whole convoy was still together. We mighta lost a lot of men, but eventually the fuckers decided it wasn’t worth it and drove off.”

[9:36 PM]

After eating a light dinner, the group settled in for the night. Antonio, Hutch, and Jeff stayed in the bus, where they already had designated sleeping areas, while the newcomers went in the house.

[3:10 AM]

Gunfire woke Jhonny, Marco, and Wade. Krista, who stayed up to snort a little cocaine, was already at a window, and the three men joined her, weapons drawn.

The bus was being rocked back and forth by a dozen zombies, as if they were trying to break open a can and eat the sardines inside.

Marco barged out the front door, yelling and firing his shotgun to protect his new friends. Four zombies fell to the weapon almost immediately, their heads and chests being torn apart by buckshot.

Hutch and Antonio couldn’t do much except wait for it to be over; Jeff was occupying the only unbarricaded window of the bus, with his M16 was sticking outside. Every once in a while a zombie fell as the M16 did its job.

Eventually all the zombies assaulting the bus were dead, but down the road another small horde was approaching.
Jhonny ran over to the bus' open window.
“Fight or flight?” he asked. "We have plenty of ammo!"

"Let's just get this over with." Jeff said, still inside the bus. He aimed at the first zombie and fired. The gun kicked back into his shoulder, and a hole appeared in the first zombie's head.

Hutch and Antonio exited the bus and took positions inside the house with Wade and Krista, who was unarmed. They separated themselves in different rooms in order to spread out their shots among the horde. Jhonny and Marco stayed outside by the sedan.

The first few zombies fell to gunfire, but more kept replacing them; what appeared to be a small horde in the dead of night turned out to be a large pack.
"If we go down, it was a pleasure surviving with you folks." Jhonny called out, firing the last bullet in his pistol's magazine. The zombies kept pouring in from the east.

"Who says we're going down?" Marco asked.

Eventually the situation got dire: zombies were piling up at the windows and front door of the house, and Jhonny and Marco retreated behind the sedan in an attempt to survive a little longer.
"Come get it, you bastards!" Marco yelled. He pulled a M1911 pistol out of the sedan's trunk and started firing it; he ran out of buckshot for his shotgun and didn't have time to switch to birdshot.

The front door on the house gave way, and six zombies forced their way inside. An arrow immediately fell one of them, but the other five converged on the building's multiple occupants.

One entered the room where Wade was standing. He easily dispatched of it by stabbing it in the temple with his hunting knife.
Two walked into Hutch's room. He fired four shots and dropped both zombies.
One approaching Krista, who was hiding in the bathroom. She frantically looked for a weapon, took the syringe he had been using for heroin, and stabbed the female zombie in the eye with it.

The other two infected found their way into the room Antonio was in. He killed one by putting the barrel of his Glock on the zombie's forehead and shooting it execution-style, but by that time the other zombie was upon him.
It knocked him over and tried biting his cast, but its teeth just grated off the hard surface. Antonio tried beating its head in with his gun, but it didn't have much effect.

The zombies teeth clacked together, inches from Antonio's face. It was moaning and making inhuman gurgling noises with its throat. Antonio tried to push it off of him, but it grabbed his other arm and bit him.

Its teeth barely got hold of flesh. The wound looked no worse than a blood blister, and Antonio didn't even notice at the time. Luckily, Wade came in the room and stabbed the zombie in the back of the head. "You okay?" he asked, holding out his hand.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Antonio said, taking the hand and standing up. "Thanks."
Wade looked Antonio over but didn't find any wounds. "Lucky, kid-"

Suddenly, Jhonny's voice cried out from outside. "We're leaving, people! Let's go! There's too many!"

Everyone left the house to find the campsite in chaos. Two zombies were grappling with Marco, who was actually winning, and Jhonny was attempting to start the sedan and fight zombies at the same time. Jeff was fending off three zombies from gaining entrance onto the bus.
The fire, which was flickering before the horde attacked, had been kicked around. Its red-hot coals were scattered on the ground, and every once in a while a zombie crushed one under its feet, sending up a spray of sparks around its ankles.

An arrow pierced the skull of one of the zombies by the bus, and bullets from Hutch's 51 took down the others. Antonio and Hutch leapt onto the bus.

Wade and Krista fought their way to the sedan, getting there with mere seconds to spare; Krista couldn't even close her door before the car peeled away from the house, followed closely by the bulky bus.

(https://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=20 ... 3,1.234589)
"You can only talk rubbish if you're aware of knowledge." ~Karl Pilkington
"**** it, it's late. Change it later." ~Me and Teddy


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