She just burst in. Didn't even take a second to ask what we'd learn. Most of the anger was gone, settling into what most would consider "grumpy". Reaching back he felt the spot where his head had hit the wall It's like she never heard of not shooting the messenger. If Lorenzo wasn't there, I...I don't know if I could have stopped her. The admission chilled him, how close he was to seeing Wyoming shot in front of him.

At the mention of Joe he jumped up and spun around. Really? Looking past NM any signs of his earlier mood disappeared, replaced with the excitement of a kid seeing a big present under the Christmas tree. So his guess had been right. Go and make yourself useful. Dom's words came back like a slap. I mean, I knew it'd take more then a storm to beat Joe. There'd be time to celebrate later, now he had to show the other's he wasn't just some kid. Reigning in his emotions he followed NM behind the island. Don't worry, I'm sure Dom and the others can show the Lost Boys we're stronger together. Glancing briefly to the machete he gripped his own weapon tightly. We should be fighting the zombies, not each other.

Wyoming and Joe passed each other at the curb without incident. Wyoming's now free wrists were raw, and Joe's face was bruised, but otherwise the two of them were returning to their people unscathed. Now was time to get to the real business. Atlanta took note of Dominic's nonchalantness and filed it in the back of his mind. Atlanta spent his life learning how to emulate emotions and apply them in different situations when they were contextually useful. If that was the game Dominic wanted to play Atlanta was all for it.

Atlanta patted Wy on the back friendlily as he made his return to the Lost Boys. "Alrighty Dominic, the purchase price for Ricky here is one easy payment of all the items and materials you removed from the van. That means the guns, the drugs, the armour. Everything." He put it to Dominic as straight as he could. Atlanna crossed his arms and and waited for the Doc to come up with some bullshit, tough-guy counter offer.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:19, Fri 08 July 2016.

Hank smiled and gave a small nod at Joe's wink, glad the old timer didn't seem any worse the wear given the circumstances. Not taking his gaze off the scene in front of him he gave a small, humorless chuckle. Not you're fault. Kaiden's the one who kept this up even after finding out who we were. How far is he willing to go? Karen said something about being a psychopath. If he truly is clinical... Shaking his head he sighed If we make it out of this, I hope we can meet again under better circumstances.

When Dom called for Wyoming to come out Hank stood by the door waiting for Joe, ready to dive aside if things went south. You... He tried and failed to find the words, holding out a hand. Taking the man inside he gave the former captive a quick briefing about who had made it this far. Tom and NM are in the kitchen; Karen, Izzy, and Cauldershore are upstairs. Benson is missing and I think Mahmoud is trying to find him. Glancing back as Kaiden demanded the truck cache for Ricky he bit his lip. We need to  work together. Tom will be glad to see you. Leaving Joe to either prepare for an assault or greet the two teens he moved back to the door way, glancing at the mailbox number trying to figure out how this could be worked out peacefully.

Wyoming observed the prisoner's he was to be traded for as he rubbed his freshly freed and quite raw wrists. In those moments he relished what little time he had in another group as he could. Sure the Caravan had their misfits, but they didn't seem to be led by one like his own people, though he'd never dare voice that sentiment among his own for the most part.

Wy hadn't known that Atlanta was familiar with these people, but he was quick enough to piece it all together especially after observing the meltdown that Karen exhibited against her son. Hank's words were of comfort, even if they were little. Before the teen was shuttled outside, he smiled gravely to the elder Lucion. "Thank you for trying to help me earlier. I hope we can be friends eventually." It was a sad moment, almost like he was just going back to his usual captivity.

Playing his poor part, he would pass by 'Joe' on his way to the other side of the exchange, making eye contact with the tall, bearded Caravaner, whom he'd not really been allowed near while they'd held him and the other guy, Ricky, at their base.

Not looking as cheerful as he should have, he stood to the side and behind Atlanta, sullen and uncertain as to how this was going to work out.

Joe kept his head held high as he moved in long strides towards the Caravan house as befitted his tall stature. It wasn't the first time and it likely was not going to be the last that he'd be beaten purple though it smarted like hell.

His bindings had been cut before he'd been sent forth, and passing Dominic he clasped a hand on the Doc's shoulder before moving inside with Hank's assistance.

He'd considered asking Dom to make Joe's arrows and bow part of the deal, but if need be he'd just make another set with his hands as needed.

Green eyes looked Hank over, friendly. Joe managed a surly but heartfelt smile, his lips dry, "Yea, me." The grizzled archer listened to the quick rundown, his expression undisturbed though he might have felt some pangs of hurt deep down over their lost people, he showed outwardly no shift in composure that wasn't helpful.

"Thanks Hank. Good to see you all, truly." He nodded soundly, then glancing about the group immediately assembled, "Someone hand me one of them new fancy guns of yours." Joe didn't like using guns, but he intended to help in whatever occured, getting the feeling they were not about to disarm themselves to this gang of reprobates unless it was in the form of giving them just the bullets back, and at that at a high velocity.

Wanting to greet the boys in the kitchen, but his instinct telling him to be at the ready, he called out to them, "Hey kiddos! I'm back! Ya hold fast now, got it? We'll have a proper reunion once we get this sorted out rightfast, alright?!"
This message was last edited by the player at 04:35, Wed 13 July 2016.

Flashback - St. Louis - Hours before meeting the Caravan

Karen was dragged, limp and bloodied, into a dark room in an office tower and dropped at her son's feet. Unlike his mother, Kaidan's hands were unbound. Karen rose to her knees, looking up at her boy, eyes filled with sorrow. "They want me to do this thing... They want me to help them... and... and then they'll let us go." Karen fought to get her words out. "Kaidan, baby I'm scared. I don't want to do it. I don't want to..." "...hurt those people" was the end of that sentence, but Karen knew she wasn't allowed to tell Kaidan what had been asked of her.

Kaidan knelt down to his mother's level, meeting her sorrowful eyes with his own blank, cold stare and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Whatever it is they want you to do, do it. Don't think about it. Do it, and we can move on. Like it never happened. Okay? All that matters is that we leave here, it doesn't matter how we get there. We do what we have to, and we move on."

"It's time to go." The man called Vega cut the boy off there and yanked Karen up by one arm. She yelped. "Kaidan! I'll come back for you! I promise!" The door slammed shut.

Present day - Slaughter LA

Karen crept slowly down the stairs back into the living room where the others were. She dragged her arm against the wall, steadying herself as the room spun painfully slow in front of her. "What's ... happening?" She asked slowly, stoned on oxycodone. She peered through one of the windows, staring at her boy longingly.

"Non...that's not going to work for us" Dominic replied in a weary voice upon receiving Kaidan's rather predictable demand and things had been going so well... Dominic internally sighed already sensing the approaching bloodshed.
He was glad that they'd managed to save Joe and the last thing he wanted was for them to lose Ricky but losing everything in return wasn't an option "you can have the drugs, the body armour and a portion of the ammunition but the rest is ours" Dominic stated firmly; his lips quirking up into a smile as he continued to speak "...you know the rules, finders keepers, and we're the ones that killed all of the Zed's in that truck" he doubted his argument would hold much water but he had to draw the line somewhere. He just hoped that Izzy and the others were ready to start shooting if or rather when Kaidan didn't play ball.

In reply to Dominic Dubreton (msg # 228):

Suddenly Atlanta clapped his hands together, excitedly holding them out in front of himself. "Yes! See, now we're negotiating. That's perfect!" He paused for a moment, making contemplative faces at Dominic before issuing his counter offer. "Okay, how 'bout we split it down the middle and you give me half the guns and ammo and the drugs, and I'll give you half of Ricky. Do you want light meat or dark?" Atlanta lingered on the proposition of cutting Ricky in half before letting out a laugh. "I'm just kidding Dominic. I'm not going to cut him in half! You're right. You did kill those zombies, and I guess there should be a shipping fee..." The boy acted like he was calculating the math in his head. "...Divide by two, carry the heroine. Yes, half the guns and ammo. All the drugs? You don't want those anyways right? That's a fair price for a whole Ricky."

Wyoming listened to the negotiations with a growing feeling of dread, rubbing his raw wrists as he silently prayed that they could put their differences aside. Atlanta didn't like him praying openly anymore, so he kept it to himself. The boy who'd come and seized their group from Washington, who was also a domineering sort of leader, was arguing over weapons and drugs when his mother was just across the road.

For his own part, Wyoming missed his mother and would have done anything to see her again if it were possible..

"Atlanta, please, leave them be, we don't need all that stuff, we just need to work together.." Wyoming knew he was perhaps crossing a very fine line with the leading boy, bit nonetheless he reached out from where he stood behind Atlanta, with some of the other kids, to try to rest a hand on Atlanta's shoulder. As if the physical contact might jolt his volatile commander, a boy he thought was his friend, from upping the ante.

Standing in front of the teenage, former caravan member Dominic started to understand how and why Kaidan had come to be in charge of his little band of men. Dominic had taken the job out of necessity; to fill the vacuum left by Cookie's departure, and because nobody else had wanted the job and the shit that came with it. Kaidan meanwhile had gotten his job because he was a psychopath; grade A serial killer material that had no doubt seized control through bloody insurrection and ruled through fear. How hard would they fight for him if it came to a fight? Then again how hard would the caravan fight for him?
He silently watched as Wyoming tried to reach his psychotic leader and get him to back down. A fruitless and possibly dangerous endeavour in Dom's opinion but he had to admire the sentiment. He liked the idea of working together to build something worthwhile out here in Zombieland. Something a little more permanent than the collection of ragtag survivor groups that roamed the land, scavenging what they could from their past glory. But like he'd said to Hank he couldn't see it happening and especially not with Kaidan as a partner.

With no prospect of the deal getting any better and with any further negotiations being a risk to Ricky’s health Dominic reluctantly accepted the offer he was given "Fine...but its going to take us a little while to get it all together, so why don't you boys go an take a seat on the curb over there and we'll bring it all out to you when its ready, ok?"  Dominic said, nodding his head at the opposite side of the street, not wanting them to be too close whilst he set about making this deal happen. Assuming of course that he could actually sell it to the others that is.

With Wyoming's hand upon his shoulder, Atlanta turned his gaze to meet the boy's tentative eyes. Atlanta's soft hand joined Wyoming's and he gave the boy a gentle smile. The way the late afternoon light hit Atlanta's face, and the breeze lifted his hair, in that moment, Atlanta's face was the most reassuring thing in Wyoming's world. One simple look told the boy "it's going to be fine, trust me." Atlanta turned back to the Caravan. It was almost like his super power, giving people exactly what they needed, when they needed it. Whether it was a hug, a soft glance, a stern word, or an ass kicking, Atlanta had a knack for reading into what a person needed to be convinced, and being able to give them exactly that. He had after all had to learn every human emotion by studying it in others so he could mimic it.

"I'll give you twenty minutes Dominic. You better work fast. I really don't want to spend any more time here than I have to." Atlanta shot Ricky a quick nod, just to remind Dominic of the cost of failure.

The Lost Boys dispersed somewhat, corralling Ricky to join them as they took up positions on the lawn and porch of the house across the street. Ricky was sat down on a rocking chair on the porch, a few guards  on either side of him. The Boys with guns took cover behind the two parked cars in front of the house, and on the porch, flipping over benches and tables, creating as many dug-in positions as they could find. Atlanta stood in the centre of the street, eyes focused almost unblinkingly on the other side. Kentucky stood at his right hand, Joe's bow at the ready, an arrow resting slack on the string, raising a little every couple of minutes to check the time on a would-be expensive gold watch.

Maybe they were just being careful or maybe they were preparing for a Slaughter.

In reply to Joe (msg # 226):

Tom instantly perked up as Joe called out them. Turning again he smiled, resisting the urge to leave his spot. That would be something a kid did, and if Dom was able to get Joe back then they wouldn't need to fight. Though there was still the other hostage the fact Joe had been released was a good sign. Relaxing his grip he looked over to NM, Who do you think the other person is? Wyoming said it was a younger guy...

"Yeah, yeah don't get your knickers in a twist" Dominic replied absently as he backed away from the Lost Boy's Peter Pan; his hand gripping the hilt of his sword as he did so with his eyes never leaving the group of teenagers.
Once inside and away from the watchful eyes of Kaidan and the others Dom would drop the tough guy routine like a stone as he found himself having to take a moment or so to compose himself; the medic taking several deep breaths as he waited for the hand that had been previously gripping his sword, to stop trembling, merde...I'm not cut out for this! his mind said in a panicked whisper I'm a medic...not a hostage negotiator! and yet that was exactly what he was doing. All he could do was hope that Kaidan would actually hold up his end of the bargain, though he may as well be hoping for Scarlett Johansson and a group of Navy Seals to come strolling into town with the way things were going.
Moving into the living room he'd glance around those that had gathered around the window before speaking in a weary voice "D'accord...you heard him, get the drugs, the spare guns and some of the ammo, try and pick calibre's that won't fit the guns we're giving them if you can" just because he had to hand over part of their score didn't mean he had to make it a fair split "...oh and while we're at it, Karen you used to strip weapons right? See if you can pull the firing pins or something from those guns" he asked, not really knowing if what he was asking was even possible. He'd never had much to do with guns before Zombieland so his knowledge was somewhat hazy, but if they could render the weapons they handed over inoperable then all the better.
Kaidan would no doubt be pissed when he found out, though by that point Dominic hoped to have Ricky back and for Mahmoud to return with news about the Lost Boy's camp and the opportunity to get even.

The stoned Iraq War veteran arched an impressed eyebrow at Dominic. "Good thinking! Unless they're planning a bloodbath, they won't notice until we're a safe distance away." Karen ignored the fact that she had replaced "my deranged child" with "they." She was trying not to think about it.

If they were giving the Boys half of what they took from the van, then there would only be four guns to pull apart, lose parts from, and put back together. Karen started with her own volunteered spare handgun, attempting to pull it apart, dropping it, picking it back up, snapping a couple parts apart, flinging a couple little greeblies over her shoulder and then fitting it back together. "I need three more." she proposed to the room, waiting for someone to volunteer their new gun for disposal... Karen moved to stand next to Dom.

"We have a problem." She turned to address Dominic in some degree of privacy. "Boh took the drugs. They're not in the house, I looked..." She realized that she'd just admitted to searching upstairs for pills instead of watching what was going on outside with her own son. But maybe Dominic wouldn't be thinking about the timeline.

Giving a sigh of relief as deal was finally made Hank ducked back into the house. Maybe not the cooperation he was imagining but it was a start. At least it would bring them back to a more even standing, all things considered. That changed as Dom ordered the sabotaging of the guns and Karen's field stripping. Um...what if he wants to give them a test fire. Like through a pillow or something. Glancing in the general direction Karen had thrown the spare parts he ran a hand through his hair. There still might be a chance to set up some sort of working relationship with them. Something beneficial to both groups. This... Shrugging he leaned against the wall. We don't know what a safe distance is, and I don't know about you but I'm happy enough just worrying about zombies and random people when I go out to take a piss, let alone a group who may be actively searching for us.

Lorenzo begrudgingly let Karen take his newfound pistol to strip. He hadn't even got to use it. The SKS was too unwieldy with one arm out of commission, and trying to knife any sort of sentient opponent would no doubt send him reeling once they went for the very obvious sling. He at least didn't argue the matter. Instead he unpacked the bricks of drugs he'd taken impatiently, without even acknowleding why he had some in the first place.

Frustration was building. It only took a moment of quiet seething for it to turn to anger. His chest felt tight, his face too warm, and his heart pounded in his ears like a drum. God, what he wouldn't give to put a bullet in that little shit's stomach. Give him a few weeks to really rot. He watched where Atlanta had gone off contemplatively, jaw working, a lot of nasty thoughts going through his head.

He snorted at Hank. He almost felt bad for how naive the guy sounded. "People like this don't want a 'working relationship,'" he said, mimicking his voice in a nasally whine. "They want to strong arm and take advantage. We already gave the inch. Let's not give the whole mile so easily. I don't give a shit if that kid's Jesus Christ and Karen's the Virgin Mary, if I see him after today he won't be smirking."

Lorenzo glared toward the window again and shifted the stacked bags against his chest.

Well Hank said after a moment, turning his head to look over at Lorenzo. What would you do in his place? If someone did this to you, that wouldn't paint a target on them? Would you take the time to figure out who was responsible and who wasn't, or just lump everyone together? It's not like they don't already have guns, and a firefight would just be a waste for everyone involved.

He sighed and leaned his back against the wall. Fine then, maybe not a "working relationship". At least something where if we run across them again they won't shoot on sight.

"What do you mean Boh took the...you know what, never mind we'll just have to hand over the stuff Mahmoud dragged out of the truck and hope they won't notice" Dom replied in a low voice as he silently cursed the Cowboy. If the point got raised he'd either have to play dumb or point out that they had the guy that knew where the drugs were stashed and let them take it from there.
It was as people were reluctantly turning over the drugs and firearms they had recently acquired that Hank questioned whether or not it was a bad idea to try and screw them over by tampering with the guns. However Dominic hadn't even had chance to open his mouth before Lorenzo pointed out what felt like the obvious to the medic "He's right Hank, if they had any intention in being our friends they wouldn't be holding our people hostage and I can't see any future meetings between us and them ending well" Dominic said as he quickly worked his way through the boxes of ammunition; trying his best to keep as much of the usable stuff on the caravan's pile as possible. He didn’t exactly like the idea of having to watch his back for however long it took for the caravan to get away from the other group but he’d be damned if he was going to help arm a group that was liable to attack them anyway.

Once they'd finished sorting the ransom into one of the large SWAT hold all's, he and a volunteer would pick up the rather heavy canvas bag and carry it towards the door "By the way guys, if you see any of them going for their weapons I want you to blow em' away" he casually called over his shoulder to the rest of the group, hoping that it wouldn't come to that but wanting them to be prepared all the same. With Dominic knowing full well that any gunfight that took place probably result in him being shot even if he did intend to go down fighting.
Leaving the relative safety of the house he'd call across to Kaidan and the other Lost Boy's who were currently hunkering down on the opposite side of the street "Ok Kaidan, we have your stuff...let’s get this over with!"

A panicked expression worked its way across Karen's face. "What? Hey! No! That's my son out there!" Karen looked to those in the living room with her, watching the windows, armed and ready for a fight. "This isn't right! They haven't done anything yet! By my count, we've killed more of them then they have of us!" The anxious mother paced back and forth. "If something happens, let me try to save my son... Please?"

This whole horrible event could go off without a hitch, but Karen had a nagging feeling that it would all fall apart if someone on either side made the wrong face in the wrong direction.

In reply to Dominic Dubreton (msg # 239):

Atlanta signaled for his boys to stay put in their sheltered firing positions, meeting Dominic with only Kentucky at his side. Atlanta's eyes met with Dominic's. "Why are you doing this? I'm just curious. Why is Ricky worth it to you?" His eyes never left Dominic's.

Kentucky stood vigilantly beside his leader and his friend and his lover, his eyes scanning the windows of the tall house. He counted the faces in the glass, all of them likely armed, ready to reign hellfire down on the Boys if anything went wrong. His people were at his back, dug in, ready to return the bullets as they came. But Atlanta... He was dangerously exposed. If the worst happened, It'd be Kentucky, Atlanta and Dominic that took it.

Atlanta extended out his open hand, ready to receive the bag of goodies from the DEA van.

Lorenzo volunteered to help Dominic carry the supplies out. He wouldn't be much good upstairs with the longrifle, short of setting up some sort of stand. Which he definitely did not have time for.

Worst case scenario he could at least knife one of them. He hoped it wouldn't come down to that, since his own odds didn't look favourable. Still, there was an angry edge to his features while he approached that said he was more than ready for a fight. If he had to die stupidly he'd do his best to take one of them too.

He waited for Dominic's queue to hand his share of the supplies over.

He didn't mouth off for once, though he would have liked to. Ah, the quiet, pissed off muscle. A role he used to be very accustomed to. You're here for one reason, Lencho, and it's not to talk. He barely even looked at Ricky. He focused on the kids calculatingly and with no small amount of hostility.

In reply to Karen (msg # 240):

Hank slowly tilted his head at Karen's sudden concern, confusion obvious. You just sabotaged any chance of something not starting. As soon as they're out of sight we're going to haul ass to the "safe distance" before they realize you fucked up the guns. Shaking his head he made his way to the stairs. I just hope four guns were worth it. All those houses... It was a shame, based on the rice and pills he would have guessed either the Lost Boys hadn't hit the town yet or were very at sloppy salvaging.

Making his way to the twin's room he pulled the pillows out of their cases and started going through the closet and dressers for anything that would fit Tom.

Joe shook his head in a foreboding way as Dominic set the group on a risky course, though of course this was a tense situation no matter what.
If he hadn't had to give up his handgun, he'd have his finger on the trigger ready to go, his long sinewy frame behind the front doorframe of the house, with some semblance of cover, ready to pop out to shoot at a moments notice as the exchange got underway.

"They aren't going to let this go peaceably. These shits aren't just kids anymore." Joe commented, eyes fierce if a bit punched up. He wasn't going to hesitate.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:00, Sun 14 Aug 2016.

He really didn't get it did he? Human drives and emotions truly were as alien to him as those of ants. Dominic gave a weary sigh, he couldn't be arsed to try and explain it all to him, he just wanted to get this whole damn mess sorted and out of the way so that he could set about getting him and his people out of here "Because he's one of ours and we look out for each other" Dominic replied to the youth, using the same tone of voice a parent fed up of answering stupid questions would use "...and no doubt if our positions were reversed you'd be doing the same for ol' Kentucky here" he finished, throwing that little thought out there more for Kentucky's benefit that Kaidan's let him think on that for a little while.
With his piece said Dom drops the heavy bag of guns, bullets and assorted narcotics onto the ground by Kaidan's feet before then taking a step back "Send him over, you can pick the bags up once the three of us are on our merry way" Dominic instructed, his muscles tensed ready to reach for his gun or his sword at the slightest provocation. They were on the home stretch now, with any luck they wouldn't stuff it up.

Atlanta signaled for Saskatchewan to send Ricky forward. The small man was relieved to have his bindings off and to finally be heading home to his friends. Since the hurricane Ricky felt like he had lost so much. Cass... The Caravan... And then to be scooped up by these awful kids and viciously interrogated by Kaidan, whom he had met in a strikingly similar position back in St. Louis, when Kaidan had pretended to be a prisoner locked in a conference room with the Caravan, trying to gather information. Now Ricky had discovered that Kaidan, now "Atlanta" was the ruthless leader of The Lost Boys. A position he had gained by force during the hurricane in an elaborate coup d'etat, backed by his lieutenants Kentucky and Dakota.

Atlanta's Lieutenants had made themselves loyal to him in the last days of Washington's reign over the Lost Boys. Washington has always been a fierce commander but in the weeks before the storm he had become cautious, scared of the decline in available resources in the costal New Orleans region. Atlanta convinced a few key players that Washington had grown weak and that it was time for new leadership. Kentucky was in love with Atlanta, Dakota agreed with his sales pitch, and Wyoming was intimidated into following. Then the night of the storm, the four of them overthrew Washington and saw to his death during the evacuation from their Neverland theme park. They set out to hit the road the same time the Caravan did, encountering first Ricky, who had headed south from the industrial complex, and second Joe, who was close on the heels of the Caravan. Once Atlanta discovered that his former group (and his mother) was in the area he ordered his Lost Boys to follow. They watched the Caravan loot the DEA van (which they were then seeing for the first time) and hatched a plan to acquire its contents, following them to Slaughter.

Now, at the climax of this plan, Atlanta was seconds away from getting what he wanted, and without too much trouble. As Ricky passed the bag of goodies Atlanta scooped it up in his hand and gave it to the boy that had sent Ricky forward. The deal was done and everyone was going to go on their "merry way," as Dominic had put it. But then a funny thought crossed Atlanta's head. Dominic hadn't played by the rules. He took Wyoming and held him ransom for the ransom Atlanta was using Ricky for and the whole thing was against the rules. And Atlanta didn't like it when people didn't follow his rules.

Dominic welcomed Ricky back into the fold, quickly ushering him away to the front door of the house. Both the Lost Boys and the Caravan held their positions as Saskatchewan brought the guns back to their house and Dominic brought Ricky back to his. Still standing in the middle of the street with Kentucky, Atlanta snatched Joe's bow from him and strung an arrow, releasing it in one swift movement. Everything happened in slow motion...

Kentucky's face turned to shock and horror. This deal was done and everybody was fine. He never expected this. Atlanta's eyes locked on Dominic's back, watching the arrow fly closer to its target. Ricky smiled as he was welcomed home, one last nice feeling before the arrow crashed through his chest. The broad head of the arrow pierced Ricky's lung, tore him up and burst through the front of his chest, spraying warm blood that felt like hot oil all over Dominic and spurted through the open front door.

It was unclear where the first gunshot came from. It was certainly from the Caravan's side. The Lost Boys were so damn frightened by what they saw Atlanta do, and since the first "act of war" came from their side, they didn't fire first. No the first shot came from the Caravan. Maybe it was Lorenzo, maybe it was Dominic, maybe it was Hank or Karen or Luke in the front windows, or maybe it was Isabelle upstairs. Where it came from didn't matter really so much as where it ended up. Kentucky was smart enough to know that when thet bow left his hand any chance of avoiding a war was over. As the arrow hit Ricky Kentucky grabbed Atlanta by the shoulders and pulled him down, toppled him over and landed his own body on top to protect him from what happened next.

The boy now known as Kentucky grew up on a farm near Paris, Kentucky. His ultra conservative father grew cereal crops and was very, very upset when he found "Kentucky" kissing another boy. In the years that followed 'Tucky was forbidden from being himself and was miserable. But when the world collapsed and the oppressive culture he lived in died he was finally allowed to be free. He met Atlanta last fall and it lit up his life like he never thought possible. He was in love and for the first time in his life, that felt okay.

So when it was time to give up his life to save Atlanta's, he gave no hesitation. Kentucky landed on top of Atlanta as the bullets ripped holes in his back and arms and legs. Kentucky's blood poured all over Atlanta, leaving a soaked puddle on the pavement. The sound of the gunfire was tremendous. It was like thunder and fireworks all at once. As the boys went down in the street, the Lost Boys returned fire at the Caravan. Bullets clapped against the wood of both houses, sending splinters into the air in every direction. The car that was parked in front of the Lost Boys' house lost a tire first, and then another, and then the back window launched tiny glass sparkles into the air that danced in the light as they trickled across the pavement.

Only a couple brief pauses could be felt as each side took a second to reload. Karen watched through the window as her son made a completely illogical decision and started a gun battle. The mother looked on in horror as the boys went down and the boy protecting hers was ripped to pieces. All senses faded away. There was only a defening ringing in her ears as she collapsed onto the floor at the window. She was oblivious to what was happening now. Karen  missed the others dragging Dominic and a wounded Ricky inside barely clinging on to life, she missed what happened to Lorenzo and she missed everything that was happening outside. Broken glass, splinters of wood and clouds of drywall dust landed in her hair, but she didn't care. She felt like her heart was ripped out of her all over again seeing Kaidan senselessly try to murder Ricky.

The gun battle raged on for what seemed like forever but might have only been a few minutes until both sides began running low on ammo.

...

Mahmoud had moved swiftly to pick up Benson's trail after departing from the others. Time was of the essence, but the trail was haphazard, and truly his state of hurry hampered his efforts to objectively and calmly pick out the tracks that would reveal the location of their companion.

If it had been some time before Zombieland, he certainly wouldn't have had the stamina to do what he had to. Since that fateful day that the world ended, though, he'd sharpened his skills and honed his body into that of a fighter, a scout, a survivor.

Establishing a trail, Mahmoud was still unable to complete his task, given the mob of Mad Max style youth's that passed him by on their way to his own group. He'd had to dodge down into the muck to avoid detection, which was thankfully easy enough to accomplish given it was just he, opposed to the great number of hostiles, albeit little ones. He kept his rifle up out of the mud so as not to clog the parts, sacrificing his already tenuously dry clothing.

He had to make a call, to continue on or to rejoin his own people while he still could. Luckily there were plenty of new tracks to follow the Lost Boy's home should they get through the exchange..

Mahmoud had trailed the Lost Boys as they marched to Slaughter, but to do war or business, he could not tell. On their heels he met up with a rattled and slightly wounded Bohannon. When the gun went off an inch from his head, the bullet had grazed and bounced off of his skull, rendering him unconscious as the one who had survived the encounter dragged him away, trying to get him back to his people. But Bohannon came to, got up and tried to whoop the boy who was only just strong enough to drag the full grown man through the mud. But, having suffered a head wound, he could not keep up to the boy as he ran off to report back to Atlanta.

Wandering through the woods, in the general yet somewhat disoriented direction of the Lost Boys, Bohannon bumped into Mahmoud and together they devised their own plan to intervene in the whole mess of a situation. They figured that any group that would claim to have hostages, and try to capture more like they had could certainly be up to no good and had to be stopped. They had to get their people out of there...

...

Phase one of the plan was rushed as Bohannon heard the gunfight erupt from his position on the outskirts of town. He couldn't wait for Mahmoud any longer, he'd have to improvise. The men had found a farm yard not too far from Slaughter that happened to have a pickup truck with a slip-tank in the back and enough gas to do what they needed. So Bohannon started the engine of his new found fuel truck and sped it into town, careening around the corner at the end of the street and slamming it head-on into the car parked in front of the Lost Boys' house. Both vehicles skidded about ten, fifteen feet and ended up mangled together on the lawn. As he had hoped, he ended up with the drivers door pointing towards the Caravan's house. Dizzy and a little shaken from the crash, Bohannon wrestled the door open, fell out onto the ground and took shelter behind the rear wheel. The gunfire resumed from the Lost Boy's side, with the Caravan now providing cover for their cowboy. Bohannon dug deep into his pocket and produced his lighter and a rag. Bohannon shoved the rag into the truck's fuel tank and lit it. He counted down a few seconds before taking a deep breath and sprinting like mad towards the front door of the Caravan's house, waiving his arms like a crazy person. Somewhere between the truck and the house the gas caught fire and the whole thing went up. First the truck's gas tank went up in flames with a whud, a moment later the slip tank exploded in a magnificent fireball, shards of metal raining down on the Lost Boy's house.

Now for phase two of the guy's plan. Mahmoud sweated profusely as he moved swift and as quietly as possible through the woods that backed up the town of Slaughter. The approach would place him facing the front of the house his people had set up inside, and behind the Lost Boys' that he could see amassed on one side of the street once Mahmoud had delved behind the houses after clearing the treeline.

It would be suicide but a heroic distraction for his people if he were to attack the Lost Boy's from behind. Thankfully he was not alone, he'd brought reinforcements, of a sort.

What had caused Mahmoud to keep such a brisk pace was a crowd of followers, namely a twenty or so thick herd of walkers, biters, lurkers, creepy-crawlers. They were as motley as ever, in various states of decay, undress, injury, and demographics. Mahmoud was sure they could smell him acutely, and he made sure that they saw plenty of his backside to keep the lot of them interested enough to give staggered chase.

Knowing that his 'relief force' would spot the backs of the Lost Boys' if not detect the commotion that ensued between the two groups, Mahmoud clammored up the back steps of a residence. On the back porch, he kicked away the rotting steps he'd used in a couple sound, forceful kicks to make it difficult for any walkers to follow him up.

The groans and undead grieving continued as the monsters tried to give chase, losing site of Mahmoud as he moved into the house, closing the back door behind him, barricading it with an upturned table. Outside, the creatures that lost interest or could not clamor up onto the back porch of the house would stream past the home, to the streets where the Lost Boys and Caravan met, to attack, to tear, to rip, to eat.

Like a soldier fighting house to house, he rushed through the home, taking up to the top floor, kicking open the door to a little girl's room. Rushing past stuffed animals and varieties of pink shades, he moved to the window, yanking it open before taking a knee on the floor. Raising his rifle up to a sniper form, the dark skinned Caravaneer leveled his sights on the Lost Boys and watched as the truck exploded in flames, welcoming the horde of zombies to the BBQ.

...

The Zombies went after whoever they could find, so many possible meals laid out in front of them in every direction. The Lost Boys turned their fire from the Caravan and tried to fight off the evil dead with their dwindling ammo reserves. Somewhere in the commotion of the explosion and the arrival of the walkers a small contingent went out to collect Atlanta. One of his saviours was picked off from a distance by Mahmoud but the smoke from the fire obscured any further shots.

As Bohannon was running to the house a bullet jumped up and bit him in the thigh, passing clean trough from back to front. The smoke from the explosion and the distraction of Mahmoud's hungry cavalry gave him the cover he needed to limp and hop his was back to the house.

Isabelle laid down fire like an old pro, albeit a rusty old pro. In the shock and confusion of everything that was happening, she never noticed that Mr. Cauldershore hadn't fired a single shot. The poor man succumbed to his illness moments before Ricky went down. He slumped down, still clutching the pistol Izzy had given him. Isabelle took responsibility for letting Cauldershore off the hook from Dominic, but ultimately it was too much for her to handle. She gave him the gun and asked him to hang of because she couldn't accept that he was going to die, and that she had to help him. She chose to ignore it and maybe he would hang on just a little longer. But he couldn't.

Atlanta accepted defeat and signalled the retreat of his greatly reduced force. The Lost Boys fled first into their house and then out the back, quietly fighting their way through the lighter load of Zombies behind the house and disappearing into the woods. The horde on the street prevented the Caravan from making chase, but provided them a reprieve from fighting a prolonged battle of extermination against the Lost Boys.

Today's battle was over, tomorrow's battle was just beginning.
This message was last edited by the GM at 05:04, Mon 15 Aug 2016.