Ricky followed Dominic's lead once they got the woman out of the pit, looping an arm under her's to assist. He could hear everyone's orders to quiet the dog's radio but he didn't see it as such a pressing issue. "C'mon boy, we're leaving." He turned back to the group as they scurried over with the pit girl. "We can worry about the radio once we're out of immediate danger, for now just make sure those things don't get too close."

Cookie knew it was too late to run; she eyed up the competition and sighed.  Damned long day, worse than cheap wings night in football season.   She raised the bat and sighted up her first target, then her second.  "Move out," she muttered to the others, intending to cover their retreat.  There had to be a more defensible position....

like on the other side of the pit.  Which is where she went, intending to get as many zombies as she could INTO the pit, now that the girl was out, and thereby limit the problem as they retreated.  Of course, she wasn't dumb enough to get very close to the pit, which might tempt someone to shove her in.

The line between fight and flight drew thinner and thinner. Bohannon shouldered his gun and drew the bolo machete and took up a position beside Cookie at the pit. Though the thought of tossing her in was tempting, now was not the time. "What's the game plan here Babe Ruth? After you hit these fly-balls, you and me gotta get to first base." Bohannon caught the possible double meaning of his analogy and smiled a little. "So, where we headed?"
This message was last edited by the player at 00:33, Tue 16 Sept 2014.

The undead began to fill the open space where the Raiding Party made their stand/escape. Drawn to Cookie and Bohannon, several quickly fell into the pit, giving no care as to what was beneath their feet while pursuing living flesh.

A few began to move around the pit, or emerge from the treeline's flanking the group. Not all of the walkers showing up were the group Isabelle had initially spotted. Closing in on three sides, the biters were scattered out enough for the group to isolate a few without being overrun.

The main clump tried to descend upon Cookie and Bohannon, their presence pronounced on the other side of the pit. One after another, the rotting former-people fell into the pit, adding to a writhing mass of stinking limbs that groaned and reached up in vain to the mouth of the hole. It was like the gateway to hell itself, yearning to pull someone down inside.

Cass tried to be of some assistance to her rescuer's as they hauled her back to the safety of the treeline where other people she did not know, were waiting. Her bruised, weak legs from the initial fall into the pit had left her shaky, and though it hurt she would pick up her pace as much as possible.

Facing the back of the group as she was dragged along to the bushes, she noticed that not only were undead ahead of them, but behind them as well. It wasn't a wall of walkers, but they were everywhere.

"Hey lady! Behind you!" She called out to the young woman with dark hair and a hatchet, who was waiting amongst the foliage along with an older man.

Isabelle was about ready to high tail it out of the area. With the girl coming to safety there was little reason to stick around. Raid, mission, whatever it was, she and most of the others weren't keen to get themselves killed over someone they had never even met.

Hatchet it one hand, she prepared to cover the others as they were increasingly finding themselves encircled. When the blonde girl pulled from the pit yelled at her, she knew better than to hesitate.
Turning quickly, she came more or less face to face with a new gathering of undead. They'd come after the sound, or had been following in their staggering fashion, too slow to catch up until the group had stopped.

Eyes widening as the first lurched out at her, she swung her hatchet across the monster's temple, lodging it briefly, the collapse of the walker brought her weapon free.

Many more followed up. There seemed little pretense to using their louder weapons.
"Which way we pushin, Cookie!" She called to the leader presumptive. Each direction seemed just as dangerous as the last. If they were going to go they would have to push together or split up, every man and woman for themselves, not something that tended to end well.
Pulling her glock free from its holster she fired a round at the next approaching biter, hitting it between the eyes, dropping it.

Bill stood with the others at the tree line. He shook his head at the complexity of all that had happened. Only moments ago, they had been walking along the path in the woods, and came across this pit. The girl at the bottom of it had been rescued with little difficulty; as Bill heard Cookie's request for a branch he saw Ricky and Dominic pull her up with a rope. This young girl, and the dog from before, had latched on the group, for better or worse. Bill could not leave another soul behind.

Worse.

The undead creatures surrounded them. Closing in on all sides, they moaned, and Bill's blood froze. He clutched his rifle, watching the others to see what they would do. So much rested on the survival of this group. They were so close to the meeting spot, so close to finding Colton and delivering the food supplies back to the Fort, so close to going back home. Bill could not die out here.

The Zed's poured from out of the trees drawn by Cookie and the cowboy as they lured them into the pit; although some of them still appeared to possess enough brains to go around the outside and avoid the trap.
It was as he turned his attention back to the direction he, Ricky and the girl were travelling that he saw yet more of them coming and in numbers that prompted Isabelle to draw her gun and start firing "We head that way" Dominic responded to Isabelle's question; pointing towards what appeared to be if not a gap then a thin part in the approaching horde's line "I need you to keep going without me Ricky, someone needs to keep our way clear" Dominic said speaking to the other man behind the girl's head before unhooking her arm from around his shoulder and drawing the pair of handguns he carried; the Zed's far too close for the rifle to be of any use.
Taking his time to aim each shot Dom fires the guns picking off three the undead with only a handful of wasted or ineffective shots before moving to follow Ricky and the girl, quietly hoping that Izzy and the others would follow.

Cookie applied bat to skull and levelled a zombie lucky enough to have avoided the trap but unlucky enough to have encountered the Jersey Girl. Ya gotta love it when a plan comes together. "We bought them some time, now we go," she said simply to Bohannan.  "Who do you think put that radio on the dog ?" 

Then she caught up to the rest of them, noting the impressive problem and lack of solution.  "Give 'em hell," she growled, and began to strike down the undead with the ferocity of a truly angry woman.

With all the fighting, Ricky was just glad no one was hurt yet. He was amazed at how fast they got swarmed, just another reminder of why we need to be more careful. He nodded to Dom as the man gave the order to continue towards the thinning line; less zombies less danger, made sense to him. He moved his arms around the girl's frame to pick up the slack left by Dom, being a little overly cautious of where his hands fell. "Don't worry, I got you. We're gonna be fine." He approached the thinning line of undead as the group proceeded to drop them, keeping an eye on any that got too close for comfort and getting ready to fight them off if need be.

There seemed to be at least three or four for each of the survivors to handle, though spread out and scattered it was impossible to decipher how many more there were. Between all of the tree's there were undead bobbing in and out of view as they relentlessly groped across the landscape towards the sounds of life. In every direction there seemed to be some rotting obstructions, with no obvious direction to go.

In the pit the walkers clawed at the dirt walls enclosing them, breaking fingernails and eroding the flesh of fingers and of the earth itself. Pebbles then rocks gave way to fall into the hole of writhing limbs and snapping, broken teeth, expanding the pit slightly as its contents bulged and groaned.

Caught in a reverie, Bill was snagged on the shoulder by a lurker, the pointed digits of the attacker taking a grip of the old man's jacket sleeve, tearing the fabric from his arm when the survivor recoiled.

The dog barked loudly and followed along with the group, dodging the undead and drawing some towards the pit, only to sidestep and lead a few inside. It wasn't happenstance, the mutt seemed to know what it was doing.

Saito began to fire into the advancing undead, the peculiar sounds of the rounds passing through the silencing chamber emitting that short distance among them. Some shots clipped off of the tree's, chipping bark and dust, though most of the firing found its mark, dropping several of the advancing dead. When one came too close, he slammed the butt of his machine gun against the jaw of the rotter, knocking its jaw into dislocation and semi-detachment from the head. "Bill! Fall back!" He called to his Fort compatriot as he saw the other set upon.
This message was last edited by the GM at 03:24, Thu 02 Oct 2014.

Isabelle, grappling with the ambush, turned at the first opportunity to catch up with with Dominic, Ricky and their new ward. She cast a glance towards the Cowboy and Cookie as they made a stand to buy time. She could see Saito trying to follow up, Bill struggling and the dog weaving in and out through the scattering of walkers. She passed a walker which, grasping out from behind a flanking trunk, was promptly delivered a swipe into the jugular. It was a non kill, but dark ooze sprayed from discolored flesh, and sent the monster to the forest floor, likely only temporarily.

Closing in on the three, her eyes darted like the rest of them, unable to focus on the numbers enclosing their position, though ultimately focusing upon the pit area. However, late-comers were spotting the escapee's and the rescued girl, and were fencing in the survivors in a pincer-movement. "We might get through in a pinch, but the oth-" Isabelle was next to Dominic as they fought their way, the confusion of the fight like battlefields of old.

A metal on flesh on metal sound snapped in the air followed by a yell of pain, and Isabelle fell to the ground, tossing up decaying leaves as she did so. Quickly adjusting onto her back, her eyes widened as explanation filled her senses. A bear trap. A fucking bear trap. It was clamped to her right lower leg, bloodied metal teeth clamped around her flesh, with a few shades of red and pink displayed intermittently with shattered bone. She was breathless and thought to call for help but no words came out. Tensing up, a walker approached, pace staggered. Dropping her hatchet she opted for her glock in a pinch, raising the barrel, firing and missing as the walker tripped up.
Focusing once more, at the last moment before it was too late, she pulled the trigger, the bullet passing through the forehead of the biter, sending it crashing in front of her bear-trapped leg.

With swift reflex Bill straightened his rifle and took aim, hitting each of his targets precisely. For all his faults, Bill was a soldier and a policeman, and a good one at that; He trained regularly with firearms at the Lauderdale County Sheriff's Department.
Bill looked around at this scene in the woods. Surrounded on all sides, Bill fired again, killing three more and spending his rifle ammunition.

He looked left, and was snagged on the right shoulder, tearing his jacket and spinning him around. Bill fell to the ground, and looked up at the face of the creature that sent him down. Blank white eyes and pale skin, the thing looked dead itself. It's face looked human, but unhuman, it's body dead, but undead. Advancing toward Bill it looked him in the eye. This thing knew what it wanted.

Bill drew his Sheriff's Department pistol, and put two rounds in the creature's head. One for each dead eye. He picked himself up and inspected his torn jacket. "Damn." There was very little chance he would be able to get this repaired.

Bill caught up with the group as they moved. Whichever way they went they had to get out of here. It was only moments before he heard the heartbreaking sound. He saw Isabelle fall to the ground, heard the scream. He ran closer and saw the source of the pain. "My God." Bill thought about the undead surrounding them, the massacre at the campsite, the little girl in the pit. Now this. Bill was sure they had wandered through the Gates of Hell.

Ejecting the magazine of his automatic Dominic grabs another one from inside his jacket and quickly reloads, hardly believing how quickly he'd burnt through the first one. The Zeds were still coming but it would seem that with a little luck and a whole lot of fire power the four of them at least would be able to break through to the other side. However it was just as Isabelle was voicing as much that disaster struck as a sickening crunch followed by her falling to the ground with an agonised cry signalled that she had stepped into a trap.
Dropping down onto one knee beside her a string of curses flows from his lips as he quickly examines the steel jaws of the trap about her lower leg wondering how in the hell he was to remove it. Hearing Bill's voice he looks up to see the old sheriff stood nearby; the paramedic's heart lifting slightly at the sight of him "Bill rendre grâce à Dieu! I need you to keep them back whilst I get her leg out of this" he shouted, praying that he wouldn't cut and run, leaving the pair of them to be torn apart.
Pausing to execute another of the foul abominations that had gotten too close for his liking with a single gunshot to the head, Dominic proceeds to remove his belt; ripping at least one belt loop in the process before fastening it about Isabelle's leg as a makeshift tourniquet "Izzy I am really sorry but this is going to hurt like hell, I need you to pull your leg out of this as soon its open ok?" Dominic said speaking to her as calmly as possible under the circumstances.
There was no counting to three or telling her to brace herself, Dominic just pulled on the steel jaws of the trap and hoped for the best.

Ricky turned at the sound of Isabelle's scream, seeing her on the ground and Dom attempting to help her. He stopped for a second, wanting to turn back and help but he knew he wasn't gonna be of much assistance with Cass weighing him down. With a heavy heart he continued on, focusing on the task at hand. "They'll be fine, they're strong fighters. We've been through worse." It was hard to tell if he was trying to reassure the girl or himself. Concern was clear on his face but he tried to keep it out of his voice, keeping an eye on the nearby undead. "We gotta focus on getting you outta here." He pulled out his machete, getting ready to drop any walkers that got too close.

Bohannon fell back from his position with Cookie at the tiger pit to join the others. He moved at a run and fired as he went. He emptied the Winchester rifle and threw his back against a tree to reload. The cowboy slipped bullets from his belt and into the rifle one by one, as quick as he could.

The sound of the bear trap clamping down on that woman's leg was grotesque. Bohannon shot down a few zombies as he neared Isabelle and Dominic. The cowboy took a position to cover the pair. "We gotta go, Clooney." Bohannon didn't want to tell Dom to leave her, but...

"I know! I know" Dominic replied to the Cowboy with a hint of desperation edging into his voice "I just need a little more time, that’s all!" he didn't want to leave her; he knew he should leave and save himself and the others stood around him but he couldn't bare the idea of doing so without at least trying to save her.
Despite the traps age the spring was still strong and moved at an agonisingly slow pace. There was another option for freeing her but not until it was obvious that either opening jaws wasn't working or that they were out of time. Dominic prayed to God that he wouldn't have to use that method as Izzy would never forgive him.

Cookie's lips were set in a grim line as she swatted down another undead and smacked its snarling face with the bat.  She was getting tired; it took three swipes to dispatch it, then the next one was lurching at her.  She lashed out with a Bates boot, knocking it back and did the all-round.  "Back towards the guide," she said to the Cowboy, having heard the scream. "Idiots wasting ammo and advertisin' dinner !"  Then she swore, as undead fingers reached for her and she had to shove the zombie hard with the end of the bat, before leaping up from the ground to gain the momentum and torque to smash it properly in the head.  She then put her words into play and headed towards the scream, and Bill...he'd better be dead, or she might be tempted.....

"There is no time!!!" Bohannon hollered at Dominic. He popped off three rounds and emptied the winchester, yet again. Clumsily, he threw the rifle over his shoulder and drew his Peacemaker. The cowboy shot down one that was too close. The bleeding thing fell next to the doctor, oozing on his pant leg.

Bohannon gave Dominic a quick tug on the sleeve, indicating to him it was time to move. "C'mon Doc, we can't move her." He gestured the barrel of the gun towards Isabelle, almost as an offer. "When a horse break's it's leg in the sticks, there's only one thing a guy does. So are you gonna do it, or am I?"

As the group closed in around the girl and the bear trap, Bill looked back at Dominic. "I've got your back Dom!" he said, his worried frown and squinting brow betraying his confident tone.

He fired again, taking care to use only one bullet per body, so as not to waste ammo. He hadn't anticipated a large horde like this, he hadn't prepared for it. No one had, really. The sooner they moved out of this spot the better, Bill thought.

"What's the situation there Doc?" Bill called back to Dominic from his position. "What are we gonna do?"

“She’s not a fucking horse!” Dominic growled; glaring up at the cowboy not so much upset over what he’d said but over the fact that Dominic knew he was right. This was useless, he wasn’t going to get her out, not like this, not with all these Zed’s coming after them. Given the time and the right equipment he could have gotten the trap open and freed her, but he didn’t have the time and all he would achieve by staying here would be to get himself and anyone else who stayed with him killed “Go and catch up with Ricky, Bohannon….make sure he and the girl are alright I’ll deal with this” Dominic said with a defeated look on his face.
Gently releasing his grip upon the trap so as not to cause Isabelle any unnecessary pain; a funny concept considering what he was about to do, Dominic returns the jaws back to their original position before getting up onto his feet “I am sorry Izzy…I am really sorry” he quietly spoke to the stricken girl with an anguished look upon his face and tears edging into the corners of his eyes “…I never wanted it to come to this but there’s no other option…I am sorry” he says before steeling himself for what he was about to do.
Moving quickly so as not to give himself any time to think about it lest he hesitate and have second thoughts Dominic draws the sabre from its scabbard and in a single fluid motion brings it round in a wide downward arc upon Isabelle’s injured leg. With the bone and flesh already mangled and broken by the trap the mercifully sharp blade made short work of amputating the trapped limb taking only two blows to sever the leg just above the steel jaws so that only her booted foot remained within the trap.
With the tourniquet already tightly applied about her leg the bleeding was only minimal for the time being but he would have to work quickly to save her once he got them both out of here.
Scooping her up he throws her over his shoulder before beginning to run grateful that she’d blacked out after the first blow  “Come on Bill, we need to get the hell out of here!” he shouted, not that the old sheriff would need much encouragement considering the number of Zed’s approaching. With the blood stained sword still in his hand Dominic ran quickly as he could with the bleeding girl slung over his shoulder wondering how in the hell she would ever forgive him for what he had done.

Isabelle was pale as a ghost as she lay back, propped up on an elbow, her hand clamped around the grip of her glock. She listlessly turned the weapon towards yet another oncoming walker, the hammer clicking, tellingly empty, with the felled survivor not really noticing at first. Her gaze drifted to Dominic, who's swift presence brought her somewhat around, though it was clear she was in some shock. "Dominic.." She breathed out in what was relief or exasperation, perhaps a bit of both. With Dominic's attempts to pry open the jagged metal of the trap, she cried out, pain flooding her senses and jolting her back just enough to feel the throbbing of her torn up lower leg.

There was a momentary peace from the yanking of the bear jaws as Bohannon joined them, giving slight cover from the relentless herd surrounding their position. Locking her eyes with Dominic, and seeing the dilemma in his gaze, she couldn't help but shake a bit. I'm not one of those girls.. she thought over and over as the group gathered, unable to stay in their place for long, debating over whether or not to leave her or kill her.

With Dominic standing up, apologizing, she was sure he was about to leave her. "Dominic, its-" She began to speak between stabs of acute pain, though any sound she made seemed concealed within the rolling groans and moans of the undead forest.

She screamed as Christopher's old sabre sliced through the mangled flesh of her leg, dicing through nerves, bone and tissue, but leaving enough of her lower leg connected to warrant a finishing blow. She yelled for her him to stop, the pain too much to bear, but it was soon done, with the last of the red cords attaching her limb together giving way, blood spilling out and dying the brown leaves of the forest floor an early Autum red.

She was unconscious quickly, her form now light and maneuverable in Dominic's grip as she was carried over his shoulder, her glock by now loosed from her tense digits, falling to the Earth as they retreated in a frenzy.

"I'm not one of those girls.."

Saito hadn't waited around for Isabelle like some of the others, instead firing off a couple supressed bursts of his submachine gun to cover part of Cookie's retreat before sprinting back through the woods past the wounded Caravaner. A smaller fellow, she was able to dodge a number of grasping, discolored hands along his improvised route. They were done for if they slowed down, and he was determined to be at the head of the escape party.

He caught up with Ricky and the girl they'd pulled from the pit, adrenaline coursing through his tired body as he tried to catch his breath in that moment of stay.

"Lets get the hell out of here, if they can't keep up then we have to leave em behind." Saito stated though their actions already spoke for themselves.
"We need to get the girl back to the Fort, maybe she had information. No way we're getting through this place now." Looking over his shoulder to the more likely gap in the upcoming line of walkers, he prepared to move forward, though his features portrayed a sincere doubt that they could make it through without heavy casualties.

In reply to Ricky Robes (msg # 117):

Cass clung to Ricky as best she could as the man pulled her along with purpose away from the thick of the fight though it was soon becoming clear that they were inundated with biters from every conceivable direction. Snapping, jagged teeth cut the air as the undead trolled between tree trunks, bumping and tripping eachother only briefly as they fought over the best spot in the veritable buffet line.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

The hound that had accompanied the group dodged through the undead ranks, tripping a few and causing some delay in the progress between the tightly wedged formation of trees and hedges, last defenses of the encircled group. It made sure to stay close the party, only barking to alert one of the survivors if they were about to be snatched from behind, and intervening if necessary.

One groping hand that came too close to Ricky and Cass was dealt a viscious bite from the mutt, who promptly and powerfully jerked the limb of the walker, sending down a ditch amongst the leaf-covered forest floor.

Its communication device cracked to life as they all struggled, though there was no voice on the other end yet. A whistling sound pierced clearly in the atmosphere of the battle, similar to the bird sounds the group had heard earlier back while trekking after encountering the dog in the first.