*Time skip*

With the screw driver gripped between his teeth, Dominic awkwardly lay under the Huey’s dashboard as he twisted the two wires together that would connect the mike in his helmet to the speaker mounted in the rear compartment of the helicopter that would hopefully allow him to communicate with anyone in the back without having to shout.
With the wires held in place with a strip of electrical tape he carefully picks his way through the mess of wiring in search of any further loose connections. Hearing the roar of a motorbike engine coming from outside however breaks what little concentration he had as he leans up to try and listen to the shouted conversation going on outside before giving up on the idea Probably just a wanderer looking to trade he thought to himself though there hadn't been many of those as of late from what he could gather.
From where he lay in the Huey; now parked in what had once upon a time been the parade square he would get a good view of the guy if he entered and so made no move towards the walls, confident that if the guy decided to cause trouble he wouldn't be causing trouble for long
This message was last edited by the player at 23:11, Wed 19 Mar 2014.

The sound of the motorcycle in the morning drew everyone's attention. Bill had volunteered upon his arrival to the Fort to organize the security on the wall, and given his experience as a County Sherriff he was the best man for the job. He knew Gabe would be on shift now, so he took his time getting to the gate. Gabe was much better at his job than some of the other watchmen, namely Luke, their newest recruit. Bill now hoped to find some capable young men among the Caravan to help out with the watch.

The old man sauntered up to the courtyard in the front passing next to where Dominic was working on the Huey. "Mornin' Dominic!" Bill noticed the doctor and pilot and waved up to him as he shouted. "Don't you work too hard now, c'mon down and get some breakfast!"

Bill was on his way this morning to the breakfast buffet the Fort Members set up outside the food storage building. Resources were scarce, but there was a full spread of toast, eggs, bacon and sausage. For now they were even fortunate to have Orange juice, but who knows how long it would be before they saw it again, once it ran out.

Bill overheard the mention of Colton Black-Rabbit on his way up to the new arrival. "Say now, what's this about Colton Black-Rabbit?" Bill stopped to talk to the man with the motorcycle. "I'm sorry, where are my manners. Welcome to Fort Dixie, my name's Bill Proctor, I used to be the Sherriff around here, pleased to meet you. Now what's this you say about Colton Black-Rabbit?"

Alex again studies the area, noting the people, armaments and other relevant data...including the surprise of a working? helicopter. Once inside, he shuts off his motorcycle and slowly gets off, making sure to not give anyone an excuse for stupidity. He allows himself to be checked for bites.

After being checked, he turns to the sheriff type fellow

"Pleased to meet you Sheriff Proctor, I ran into Colton Black-Rabbit when I was heading this way, however, what I have to discuss should best be told to whoever is in charge, would that be you?"

Hearing Bill's call as he passed him was all the excuse Dominic needed to stop working; his train of thought already more than a little de-railed by the arrival of the bike "Sounds like a plan to me mon ami" he replied amiably as he climbed out of the Huey's foot well.
It was as he was sauntering over towards the buffet with its strong and ever so inviting smell of bacon that he notices the newcomer. Taking a slight detour he moves over to inspect the mans bike and give a low whistle of appreciation "C'est bon" he said more to himself than anybody else, wishing that he still had his Honda. But alas the silver Honda was propped up against the guard room wall at the airbase where he'd found the Huey; a nice gift for the next guy to come along with a tank of gas.
With his love of fast bike satiated for the time being he turns and carries on his way towards the awaiting buffet.

"Well... Yes, of course." Bill was not used to being asked that question. He shot a knowing glance to Gabe and then back to Alex. ""I'm the... Director of Security... but let's share this with Toby right away. Have you had breakfast?"

Smooth recovery, Bill thought. He put his hand on Alex's shoulder and motioned to the breakfast buffet. He was sure Toby would be coming out for some bacon and eggs, or perhaps he was still in his office. In any case, Bill wanted to be part of this business with Colton Black-Rabbit. Any message coming from Colton was bound to be important.

"Let's have some breakfast and we'll see if Toby is around." Bill turned his head back to Gabe. One more thing to take care of. "Good job on watch tonight Gabe, why don't we get you some extra bacon?"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:28, Mon 24 Mar 2014.

"I wouldn't mind some breakfast, and I'm assuming Toby is the commander?" By force of habit, Alex continues to take in everything, making sure to note exits, vehicles, who carries weapons or not, the layout of the interior of the fort...."Not to be critical, but, you being the director of security, I notice there's alot of room for improvement in that department. I was ummm...director of getting into places like this." 

In reply to Bill (msg # 49):

Gabe let Bill take care of the newcomer, friendly and jovial but still keeping an eye on the stranger. He had been quite open with the Caravaners who'd come in days before, but this new guy was here alone, which was something to watch out for. Usually there was a reason. Luckily Gabe wasn't a terribly judgmental guy.

"You know I would love some, Bill, but save it for the others." The feast they were having today wasn't a regular thing, as Bill and Gave well knew.

Toby had walked down to the lunch area in the courtyard of the Fort after surveying the action at the gate from his somewhat elevated cabin. Keeping a placid disposition he watched as Bill spoke to the stranger and Gabe shadowed him.

It had been weeks since he'd heard from his trade partners. Damn bandits were filtering most of the survivors passing through the area, but that hadn't stopped them from attacking the Fort and its raiders. Any news that could be had was of interest to him. It also crossed his mind that the man could be part of the hostile group in the woods.

The eating area was located in the main exterior nearest the center of the Fort. The watchtower, the highest point in the Fort, was a sort of anchor in the middle of the compound where a dozen or so picnic tables were gathered.

Toby was dining on a bowl of soup, with something meaty mixed in. It looked pretty pitiful, but the Hispanic man didn't seem to mind at all.

Around him some children of the Fort and other adults were eating at their own tables. They curiously surveyed the stranger who had just entered, but seemed rather at ease. The Fort didn't have a breakfast this size on most occasions, so they were keen to take advantage of the situation. Toby had needed this event to win over the big group that arrived three days past.

He waited quietly in thought for the others to make their way to him, while giving the odd smile or grin to the kids that were eating next to him.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:53, Mon 24 Mar 2014.

In reply to Alex Cross (msg # 50):

Karen walked across the yard, the enticing smell of breakfast not lost on her as everyone else headed towards it. Karen was headed towards the stables. Then she spotted the loner who had been let in. She wasn't comfortable with that, letting in loners. She herself had infiltrated the Caravan as a loner. She knew how easy it was to gain the trust of a group like this. That was not something she was going to let happen again.

Karen watched the man as he entered, claiming news of something someone cared about. It was a perfect pitch. When it was her, her "in" was being found beaten up, barely alive. Was this news his?

Karen carried on her way towards the stables casually. As she passed him, she looked back and spoke, in a voice that conveyed no mistrust, but rather near flirtatiousness. "Hey, do I know you?" She stopped in her tracks, and walked the few steps back to where he stood. She had a distinct feeling of not trusting him coupled with an equally distinct feeling of having seen this man before. But where was it? Who was he? Now this man was a mystery she could not ignore. He was a whole pile of questions that she needed to answer. Karen kept her attitude friendly and her body language non-threatening. "Yeah, yeah. I've seen you before somewhere." Karen laughed a little, smiling at the man nicely. "What's your name?"

Alex followed Bill over to the lunch area, keeping his eyes on the interaction between the citizens of Fort Dixie...it was quickly obvious as they approached the tables who was the guy in charge, Toby.

Grabbing a plate and loading up some food, he was about to head over towards Toby when a woman stepped up to him
Aaron stares at the woman for a minute, assessing her, after a pause he says, "I'm not from around here, and no, I doubt you know me...if you'll excuse me, I've got an appointment."

Stepping around her he goes directly to the table where Toby is sitting, "You must be Toby, mind if I join you?"

In reply to Alex Cross (msg # 54):

The dark skinned man looked up at the newcomer, nodding in greeting, a small smile, but appropriately grim for the world they lived in. "Pull up a seat." He gestured to one of his people standing nearby, and a bowl of rations similar to Toby's was promptly placed in front of the traveler. It was modest and plain, unlike the more enjoyable breakfast food being served to the rest of the inhabitants. The Fort leader made no move to shake hands or anything, instead continuing to thoughtfully poke at and savor his meager breakfast.

"So you know who I am, but who are you?" He asked with no particular urgency, but with clear interest. Toby noted that Bill was lingering, with Gabe in tow.

"Thank you, guys, I can take it from here." Toby dismissed the small gathering headed by Bill, trying not to single out the older man for shooing.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:31, Thu 27 Mar 2014.

Alex sits down and introduces himself, "Alex Cross, nice set-up you have here. I'm a trader by nature, usually services rendered and/or passing of information, then I move on. I had heard about this place from another group of traders."

After swallowing a mouthful of food, "Luckily, I ran into Colton Black-Rabbit and he warned me about some raiders that were lurking around the local roads, so, I took a few shortcuts to get here. Unfortunately, these same raiders had attacked him a couple of weeks ago when they were headed here to trade. He said that he was going to try again, or if you wanted you could try to meet him."

Alex ponders his words for a second, "There's some other things I need to discuss, but, I'd like to do so in private."

"Well that explains some things." Bill said to no one in particular. He ignored Toby's subtle dismissal. This was a public gathering spot, and one of Bill's favorite passed times was to talk to the families and the young children while they ate their breakfast. Bill would not be ordered away by Toby.

"If the raiders are blocking the roads, they can't get to the Fort with the supplies they're delivering. We'll need to go out and meet them, Toby. I'll volunteer to lead the searchin' party, just like when we went out to look for Tim. Who's with me?"

Clearing his throat loudly enough to get Bill's attention, "Sure, but, wouldn't it be more prudent to think this through before any knee-jerking goes on, I mean we're talking about riding out like a bunch of cowboys...well, I was just thinking, maybe we should talk this out, make sense of things...."

Pulls out his map, pointing out known raider locations, last known location of Colton and then lastly at the fort...

"I'm not the smartest man in the world, but, what if we find a solution to not only this immediate problem, but establish a long-term solution..maybe even a permanent one. I have an idea, if you're willing." Alex looks at Toby.

Toby quietly and patiently heard out Alex as he pitched his situation, his interest piquing when Colton Black-Rabbit was mentioned. He took a moment to compose his thoughts, picking apart the chunks of rabbit meat in his soup as he picked apart the facts that Alex fed him. "Well-" Toby opened his mouth to speak but Bill interrupted,

Setting his bowl on the table, Toby endeavored to maintain his placid demeanor but it was obvious the interruption was irksome to the Fort Leader. But Toby was not the type of man to typically lose his cool or speak without carefully considering his words. The drifter, Alex, was quick to jump in and Toby cleared his throat to make both men quiet, albeit briefly.

"Look, Bill, your enthusiasm is appreciated as always but I will decide upon a course of action when I am ready to. And I recall that Brady led the search party." As usual the Latino tried to maintain a respectful atmosphere but Bill had often proven obstinate even when given all due regard.

Turning his attention to Alex once more Toby abruptly brushed a hand over the edge of Alex's map to roll it up. His movement was hasty. He did not want to discuss sensitive matters, especially with maps, in public with everyone, and with a stranger at that. "We're getting ahead of ourselves. Take your map, follow me to my cabin." The darker man's words were pithy and brief.
Standing up from the picnic table Toby's body language indicated he was departing and expected Alex to come along before Bill became any more of an obstacle to conversation.

-to Toby's Cabin
This message was last edited by the player at 03:13, Sun 30 Mar 2014.

A frail but noticeably healthier New Mexico sat at a picnic table with a robust serving of the breakfast rations on a scratched up plate. Loa had assisted him in getting cleaned up and settled over the last couple days, and with Dominic's watchful eye NM had rallied. His normally tangled hair was somewhat tamed now that Loa had given him something of a trim. It was fine by the normally shaggy young man, as long hair was a grab-risk from the undead.

He was still bandaged and weak, but with the stability of not having to move place to place, he'd prove to be healthy-ish in a few weeks. The teen had taken a shot to the shoulder a couple weeks prior, and only time would tell if he'd ever be like he was before.

Not bothering with utensils, the ravenous NM dug into his plate, food stains adorning his digits, but he didn't care. It was better than being covered in blood or walker gook for once. His behavior was in line with his past, but the loss of so many friends and allies in the Caravan just a few days before was weighing heavily on him. His body might heal, but his typically jovial disposition was hampered as of late.

Kaidan walked away from the parking area and towards the smell of fresh food and light conversation. All this talk of music and bands reminded him of the thing he wanted to do, but was avoiding doing out of nervousness. Kaidan entered the breakfast area, meandering, procrastinating. But finally, there was nowhere else to go. This was a Band-Aid he was going to have to just rip off. Kaidan took a plate and sat next to New Mexico. There he summoned his courage. "Hey, New Mexico." That was the hardest part, beginning. "I uh, well, when they took you, I found this in your stuff..." Kaidan reached into his pocket and pulled out the small iPod and headphones he pilfered from New Mexico's confiscated things back in St. Louis. "One of the uh, nurses, back in the city... She had some pretty good music on her computer." Kaidan laughed. "Yeah, they had computers up and running back there." He shook his head. "Yeah, and she let me steal some music. So it's all charged up for you, and there's some new stuff on there for you too. You like MGMT?" Kaidan held his hand out to New Mexico with the iPod.

That was the confirmation Bohannon was waiting for. He almost choked on his bacon as he overheard to conversation stray briefly past the topic of Brady. The cowboy's blood started to boil, his heart raced, and his breathing became heavy. He was here. Bohannon let out a long, deep, calming breath. Now, how to find him? In the three days since the Caravan's arrival, Benson had not seen the man he was looking for, only found small clues to his presence here. Bohannon would have to bide his time, find someone to give him more info. If Brady had moved on, Bohannon needed to know about it now so as not to waste any more time here. The sheriff was his first lead, but the booze had not caused the man to give up enough. The cowboy needed another mark, but who?

In reply to Kaidan (msg # 61):

NM glanced over briefly at his new table mate before taking up a few pieces of bacon, popping the end of one in the corner of his mouth before easily tearing it free and devouring it. Bacon was rare, so sure he was gonna eat it like jerky and enjoy the hell out of it. Something made him suspect this wouldn't last."Sup?" Kaidan was new to him, and he was still getting used to the younger guy. The little dude had helped them escape, and that made him trustable enough. It was just hard having to meet new people, only to see them die soon after. Perhaps all survivors felt that way.

Baggy eyes widened in surprise when Kaidan revealed what NM had assumed to be long gone amongst his erstwhile possessions. He'd stopped chewing, swallowing quickly whatever was left in his gullet. "No way!" He lit up, regaining some of that fine stuff that made him New Mexico. The teen did not hesitate to take back his iPod, quickly popping in one of the ear phones, all but ignoring the prospect of a working computer and some science bitch fucking with his music. The sting out what those people had done was raw.

"'Course I like MGMT." NM replied matter-o-factly, clearly pleased with this gift. "I bet they would have been coming out with their new album right about now." He flipped on the power to test it, of course. It was one of those things that made life tolerable in Zombieland.

"Thanks, Kaidan. That's fuckin sweet, dude."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:07, Sun 30 Mar 2014.

In reply to Benson Bohannon (msg # 62):

The resident Fort Hipster approached the picnic tables, always late to every occasion due to the time he spent maintaining his trim mustache with a pocket mirror. His inability to focus on guard duty and pick up slack in other duties had made him the victim of lectures from Bill.

Taking up a seat next to Bohannon the trendy young man gave a nod of greeting. "Hey there, I'm Luke. Mind if I sit here?" Not waiting for an answer, he started to eat some of the food he'd collected. "Damn I wish this could last."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:12, Sun 30 Mar 2014.

With a plate full of food Dominic took a seat near the other caravaners; nodding his head in greeting to NM before beginning to eat his own breakfast; not wanting to interrupt the boy's conversation with Kaidan. He got on well enough with NM but he wasn't going to fool himself into thinking that he was "Down with the kids" and so left them to it.
The food was glorious; after months of nothing but mostly cold food scavenged from where ever the hell they could find it the breakfast put on by the fort was the best thing eaten in a long while, hell the bacon alone achieved that. It was as he was tucking his way through his third rasher that Bill made his John Wayne style call to arms, prompted by whatever Toby and the newcomer had been discussing. Keeping his hands firmly down beside his plate so as not make any moves that could be construed as him volunteering Dom went back to his breakfast, after all Cookie had already signed him up for one combat mission so he wasn't about to sign up for another one although he was curious over what had spurred on such move.
Hearing the choking sounds coming from Bohannon he turns to see if the man required any help though upon seeing he was fine settled for taking the piss instead "Steady on cowboy, chew and swallow remember?"

How Rude.

 Bill had never really liked Toby, and he knew that Toby had never really liked him either. It was the night the two men first met, at Toby's house on a night in August in the middle of the hottest heat wave that Bill could remember, that they really began to dislike one another. Each time they met after that, when Bill was called out to Toby's place by the neighbors, their dislike grew, and eventually became full blown animosity. Most people around Fort Dixie were not from Lauderdale County, but Bill and Toby were.

 Toby had lived here a while, but Bill had lived here longer. So when the trouble started and order was lost, Sheriff Bill Proctor was first on the scene. His first attempt at survival was gathering all the people he could find and bringing them to the gym of the county high school, where he and the other deputies had set up a shelter with basic provisions. This plan was short lived. Bill returned one evening from driving around in his squad car looking for other survivors (he found none) to discover that zombies had infiltrated the high school and killed everyone inside. Bill had no choice at this point but to seek out the old Civil War fort by the river that others had turned into a defensible shelter. Fort Dixie.

 After Toby and Alex left to speak privately, Bill walked over to what was left of the breakfast buffet. Now that the Caravan had gotten settled in, the Fort Members wanted to impress them. They needed the new people, and Bill wanted them to like it here. He loaded up a plate with eggs and toast because there was no bacon or sausage left. He poured a cup of coffee made over an open fire, and when he thought no one was looking he poured in a gulp of the whiskey he kept in the flask in his breast pocket.

 Bill sat next to Dominic and Benson and Luke, filling the gap between them and Mahmoud, the only other person at the table. "Enjoying your breakfast everybody?" Bill took a nice slow drink of his coffee. "Say, I've never really heard your whole story. How'd you folks come by here? Some of you look like you've been through a lot"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:51, Mon 31 Mar 2014.

Bohannon removed his black gambler hat from the spot where Luke sat down, not paying much attention to the man. Dominic's words went unheard by the cowboy as he stewed in his own seething hot lust for blood. Then the old drunkard joined the men and Bohannon was struck with his next play. "Search party, huh? Y'all had someone go missing? Y'know, I fancy myself a pretty fine tracker. Unless of course y'all got a tracker 'round here already. Then hell, he can keep the job." Bohannon knocked back a large gulp of the delisiously bitter coffee that had been served to them all, hoping that Brady's prowess as a tracker would be enough to get the drunk old sheriff to give up his location. As he awaited a result, his mind went back to the moment it happened.

<FLASHBACK>

"There's no good or bad with you, is there Benson? Is there nothing you care about, other than saving your own ass?"

The old Nashville bar was lit only by flashlight. The two men were arguing, screaming at each other carelessly, considering what lurked outside. Benson rebutted "Like you give a damn about anyone else either Brady, I'm just doing what I've done my whole life. Surviving. And if you think I ain't trying to keep your reckless ass alive then you can go right on your merry way to Illinois all by your lonesome!" Benson wanted to leave a scar. "Y'know, Dad was right when he said you'd never be worth a damn to anybody."

It was at that moment and with tears in his eyes that Brady turned and fired. The sound of the gunshot was near deafening. The bullet hit Benson in the shoulder and he fell backwards, hitting his head on the table behind him. The ceiling went blurry and the dim bar faded to black as the cowboy lost consciousness.

</FLASHBACK>

As Alex went to his bike and pulled out his normal sleep gear, rolling up near to it's engine... He glanced at the tables across from him, watching, studying...with heavy eyelids, he was asleep.

In reply to Dominic Dubreton (msg # 65):
In reply to Benson Bohannon (msg # 67):


Though Bohannon wasn't exactly talking to Luke, the young man replied anyway, unaware if the cowboy was ambivalent to his presence or not. Who couldn't like the lead singer of Shallow Gravy? The best indie-punk-glamrock band in the southeast? "Yea well, Brady's good at what he does, he's just a dick." Luke shrugged, glad Brady hadn't been around to hear his barb. It would have earned him a hellofalot of trouble.

The mustached millennial turned his attention to Dominic seated not far away, addressing his real intention for getting cozy with the Caravaners. "Hey man, uh Dominic right? Cookie.. is she.. available?" He tried to play things cool, his fingers messing with the corner of his artistic facial hair. Its what he did when he was trying but failing at subtlety.  "You two aren't together right?"
This message was last edited by the player at 02:58, Wed 02 Apr 2014.