It took a moment for Hank to decide if NM's question about rules was rhetorical or not. No. With their numbers what they were every person mattered, and pre-Zombieland punishments wouldn't exactly work now. Then Benson would probably face life in prison, or even the death penalty, now... Now wasn't the time to figure that out. I wonder if the fort had any? Shaking the thought he took his own advice and refocused on the route ahead.

Hearing NM's fears he paused in his search for second. He gave the teen a reassuring smile. You've made it this far with that shoulder. Just keep doing what you're doing and you'll outlast us all. Even with his limited knowledge of NM's past and history with the caravan Hank doubted he'd be able to keep the upbeat attitude the youth had.

Heading a couple cars past the DEA van Hank turned as he heard the commotion. Running back he joined Karen and Dom as they held the van's door shut. Any idea how many are left?

The hipster of the group winced as blood splatter sprinkled his ankles upon Izzy's execution of the crawler. He had no choice but to move when a strong hand took a fist full of the back of his shirt, hauling him right up off his butt and onto his feet, his brown eyes bugging out in panic initially. If it had been a walker he might have been zombie chow. Instead it was Lorenzo, whom he was fairly intimidated by even when they weren't in a rumble with armored zeds. Ask a question about the van latch in that sharpish way, Luke seemed at a loss, shrugging but trying to answer anyway to avoid any rebuke from the other man, who even minus a wing was formidable to him. "I-I don't know, maybe they need to lock it to keep it the latch down??" Seemed plausible to Luke, watching as he was, not terribly eager to join the push against the doors, there wasn't enough space for many more of them, anyway. The height of the van put a downward disadvantage of of momentum from the weightily clad inhabitants.

When Lorenzo drafted him into something possible heroic and therefore risky, Luke just went along with it, like with Dominic in Slaughter, basically a automaton, an extra hand without a brain. "Ah, okay!?" Being in Fort Dixie for so long, he hadn't been exposed and desensitized to the undead. Despite his terror, he was eager to prove himself, especially to Lorenzo and the Doc.

Somehow hearing Lorenzo's command to keep an eye out over his internal rambling and the noise the others were making, he nodded in confirmation, "Got it!" He piped up, licking parched lips, becoming a bit flushed and uneasy when given responsibility to be the driver and brake-ologist. However he did follow through, perhaps because he feared Lorenzo's wrath should he embarrass himself again.

Keeping an eye out for Lorenzo while he slid under the vehicle, Luke wrung open the rusty driver door of the car, eliciting a metallic groan. "Gotcha, Lorenzo!"He slid inside, keeping one foot temporarily on the pavement to ease the vehicle should it roll before Lorenzo extricated himself, and/or if Luke missed the beat on warning the guy.

Luke had not even a cursory understanding of vehicles, having ruined at least two cars in his time from never having gotten even one oil change, for example, but whatever Lorenzo did, it worked.
Using his foot on the pavement, Luke gave a starter push, though was glad when Lorenzo gave the car that extra oomph, with Luke fulfilling his end of the deal by keeping the steering wheel straight, his right foot hovering precariously above the brake while the other joined it inside., the driver door still open.

"Doc, Hank, everybody MOVE!" The mustachioed millennial yelled out, quite loudly in fact, to the others holding the doors shut. What Lorenzo had planned with Luke's physical assistance should have been obvious, that they were going to try to block the back doors shut with the now neutral car's front end.

It was just as Dominic was contemplating the prospect of kerb stomping the approaching Zed and more importantly whether or not it would actually achieve anything other than hurting his foot that Luke intervened. Dragging the thing safely away from his legs he then watched as Mahmoud and then Izzy dealt with the creature after Luke’s own attempts had proved to be ineffective. With the crippled woman's performance bringing a look of admiration on his face as he spoke in an amazed whisper "Wow... c'est incroyable" the paramedic doing his best to quickly lose the admiring before either Karen or Mahmoud who were both very close to him noticed and decided to comment.
With four of them now pushing on the doors they were able to comfortably keep the Zed's within and had it not been for the protruding limbs Dominic was almost certain that they'd have been able to re-lock it.
With Lorenzo and his unwilling assistant busily working on a nearby car Dominic turns his attention to Karen as he echoes Hanks question "Karen, you were a copper right? How many more are there liable to be in there?" he asks, figuring that there couldn't be many more in there when he heard Luke's warning.
He wasted very little time in getting out of the way, not wishing to be pinned between the two vehicles. The door suddenly swinging open as a result of the inward pressure allowing a Zed to lunge through the gap only to then have its arm guillotined off by the door as the car crashed into place "Nice work mon ami, now all we have to do is inch the car back enough to let them out one at a time and then whatever is in that van is ours" if nothing else they would be the proud owners of several suits of police issue body armour and whatever was in the dead men’s pockets.

"Hard to say, didn't you find the driver dead?" Karen replied to Dominic's question with another question. "Three on the ground, probably four, five left inside." Karen's head spun as the car came careening towards her. "Everybody MOVE!" Karen dove off to the side of the van, doing a sort of clumsy tuck n' roll manoeuvre that more so scraped her elbows and tore her scab open than anything else. She sat up with her legs sprawled out in front of her and looked at the stunt men with an amused smile. "Nice work with the car guys!" She called up at them, slipping her hand into her jacket and applying pressure to her wound. After a moment she withdrew her red stained hand and wiped the blood on her pants.

"Let's pull the car back just far enough so we can open the door like twelve inches, then we can get Dominic up on the hood to hack the zeds to bits with that sword of his. Carefully of course..." Karen rose to her feet slowly and hesitantly, her eyes falling on the sword that once belonged to a man she murdered. Dizziness getting the better of her, Karen took a few steps back and perched herself on the cement guard rail. Letting out a deep, shaky breath Karen added "I'm just gonna sit this one out, okay?"

Lorenzo gave Karen a thumbs up at her shouting her praises, a huge grin spread across his face. He was looking entirely too smug and pleased with himself. Of course it was a nice job. He'd done it, after all. He sauntered behind the car and shifted the SKS on his back to his right shoulder, and upon reaching the car thumped the roof several times, loudly and enthusiastically.

"Not bad, Fresa!" he exclaimed to Luke.

Still looking pleasantly surprised, he rounded the car to the passenger's side and wrenched the door open, preparing to lean into it to help back it up. "Better to hit the brakes sooner than later," Lorenzo advised knowingly.

Again, still sounding entirely too pleased with himself. All his movements were quick and energetic- compared to the morning, he looked completely ecstatic now that he had something to throw himself into. So caught up in the task at hand, he didn't even notice how fatigued Karen looked. He assumed she was just getting out of the way. He rocked back and forth impatiently, waiting for Luke to put the rig in reverse, watching the van's doors all the while. This should be good.

Four or five... On the one hand they were contained, on the other they were contained. They could keep them in but letting them out in any sort of controlled way would be tricky. Leaning against the door as best he could Hank just caught the warning. Leaping aside he stumbled into a Kia missing a rear door. That'll work. He murmured, glad they could focus on killing the zeds instead of letting them out and killing them. Moving to the side of the barricade car's front he gripped his crowbar in both hands. We let the first one through, knock the second one down and use it to trip up the others? Dealing with them on the ground would be easier given their numbers.

Bohannon approached the DEA van, wielding a bowie knife formerly belonging to his brother Brady. "Wha'd'ya'll say we get this this show on the road?" He asked with a cock of his head. With Lorenzo and Luke manning the car, and Boh, Dom and Hank at the ready to receive their new friends, it was time to get this over with. The car inched back slowly and deliberately, the door creeping open right along with it. The skinniest of the biters pushed with all his might until suddenly he burst free, lunging clumsily at Dominic, arms outstretched and dark rotten teeth barred.

"Woah!" the cowboy hollered at Lorenzo. "That's good there!"

The next lurker threw her weight against the inside of the door, kind of bounced off of it and rolled her way out onto the road. Righting herself again she passed Dominic and lurched straight towards Hank, a gargled snarling sound emanating from her mouth carrying with it blood and bits of unidentifiable tissue. Her claw-like fingers reached out for Hank's arms or chest, or neck, whatever they hoped to grasp.

Number three was a large man, not dressed in the Police body armour like the rest, but instead in a fine suit and tricked out cowboy boots... and handcuffs. The prisoner squeezed through the door and fell down at the foot of the van, tossing and turning like an overturned turtle trying to get back up but ultimately failing with his hands cuffed behind his back.

The final two zombies popped out of the truck almost simultaneously and careened towards the awaiting men poised to slaughter them. Whomever was nearest could likely handle them. Bohannon wasn't really concerned with the zombies anyhow. "There Lorenzo! Back it up out of the way!" All Bohannon really wanted was to get inside and see for himself what was locked away inside.

The plan set into motion, Mahmoud led one of the last two walkers away from the others, slowly edging back, using the end of his rifle to keep the armored biter just far enough away. "I've got this one hooked, someone finish it." Mahmoud didn't want to use his rifle, waste a bullet, when someone could, hopefully, quickly put an end to the zed's brain functions. Just had to get that helmet off or out of the way or go around it.

The plan was simple. Roll back the car and let the Zeds out of the van one at a time so that the group of bedraggled survivors could pick them off at their leisure. However nobody seemed to have figured on them leaving the van with such speed as the first one to leave practically leapt at Dominic.
Jumping back quickly so as to avoid the grasping hands and gnashing teeth, Dominic swung his sword hoping to remove the creature’s head like the hero in a graphic novel or something. Unfortunately unlike said hero Dominic hadn't had anywhere near as much practice with the weapon and was somewhat under fed meaning that instead of severing the neck like he'd intended he instead inflicted an horrific wound across its rotting face. Had he been facing a living opponent the wound would have been more than sufficient, but on a Zed all it meant was that the thing was able close the distance between the two of them and make a grab for him.
Clamping his hand about the thing’s neck; Dominic’s arm quickly became drenched in the congealing blood flowing from its bisected face. Trying his best to push the attacking Zed back whilst simultaneously arching his own back to keep the thing from clawing his eyes out Dominic bought himself just enough clearance to raise the sword position its tip in front of its left eye, after which he simply released his grip and let momentum and blind rage do its work, with the pair of them falling into a heap as the dead weight of the zombie pushed him to the ground.
After confirming that yes he was still alive and that yes the Zed was well and truly dead with the entirety of his sword now protruding from its skull. Dominic carefully rolled the corpse from off of his body just in time to hear Mahmoud shouting for assistance.
Realising that it was going to be no easy task freeing his sword from its victim Dominic instead scrambled to his feet and dashed over to the helmeted Zed currently being fended off by Mahmoud and threw a leather clad arm about the things throat. As if sensing what was about to happen the thing started twisting violently in a desperate attempt to free itself of its attacker and feast upon its flesh. Meanwhile Dominic very carefully prized open the helmets visor to expose the Zed’s face, knowing that one wrong move would result in the Zed’s teeth clamping down onto his fingers followed by a very hasty amputation, probably using his own sword. Well…that would be one way of Izzy getting even he wryly thought before giving Mahmoud a look that signalled that he could deal with the Zed whenever he was ready.

So much for one at a time. Luckily it seemed the number of targets spread the threat a little at least. Timing his blow Hank swept the crowbar up, catching the dead woman's arm. Using her momentum he pushed her flailing form into the Kia's open back with a slight grunt. Last year the sight could have been part of a comedy as her rotting body took a couple moments to realize it should stop trying to go forward. Now it bought Hank the time and room to take a swing at a knee, a rewarding *crack* as the knee cap broke, leaving the leg waving at a slightly off angle. Taking a step back he'd let her shattered knee bring her to the ground when she got out. There were others left to take out for now.

Given the noise the others were making, not much but the silence and eerie scene made it seem louder, Tom watched the trees hoping they would be enough to stop anything from hearing the group. Twisting his hands around the tire iron he jumped slightly as the car was rammed into the van. Turning he saw the others getting ready to clear the van. He also saw Karen sitting to the side, hand still slightly bloody even after wiping it. Moving over to her he took off his pack, I have some dry Tee shirt strips if you need them. Opening the bag he couldn't help but glance toward the battle ground, wondering if he should join.

In reply to Tom (msg # 57):

The erie silence that amplified the clangour of the fight for the van was only otherwise broken by the sounds of the woods. The rustling of fallen leaves, the sporadic popping crack of a twig... The wind in the branches almost even sounded like whispers. The silence was erie indeed.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:00, Thu 21 Jan 2016.

In reply to Tom (msg # 57):

"Thank you Tom." Karen said, delighted by the boy's kindness. Tom joined the Caravan only days before Kaidan went missing and in the months since, Karen hadn't spent much time with the boy. She wasn't exactly avoiding him, but she hadn't made an effort to get to know him either.

Karen roughly folded the strip of t-shirt into a loose bundle and slipped in inside her jacket and under her shirt. The commotion earlier of trying to hold shut the van door had torn open her burnt scab and sent a trickle of blood to soak through her shirt and drip down her side. She applied gentle pressure with a grimace.

"They've got it." Karen assured the boy, reading the look on his face that said he wanted to get involved with the scrap. The violent display before them phased neither Karen nor Tom these days. There was once a time when the sight of several men being slashed and beaten to death would have traumatized a young person, but those days were long passed.

"Can I ask you something?" Karen said, turning her gaze towards the teen. "Could you survive out here all alone? Like, if you didn't have Hank, and you had to do the sorts of things we have to do to survive out here, could you do it alone?"

Sure. Tom replied as he closed his bag. Though if it was to her thanking him or reassuring him wasn't clear. He was used to being a sentry, and the space limited the number of people who could really fight, but usually they could tip things more in their favor before things got this far. That and they were several fighters down. He was already running through how he could get in while limiting the danger to himself when Karen's question caught him off guard.

His mouth opened then closed as he worked around the unexpected question. It was something he'd never really considered. Hank had only taken risks when absolutely necessary and they could be minimized, preferring flight over fight. It was probably one of the main reasons they were still around. Without him... It would depend...If I kept to the suburbs... He scratched his neck slightly uncomfortable with the question, or at least the timing. He hadn't spent much time talking to Karen, having spent most of his time with Joe, NM, Brady, Hank, or in some quiet corner being a teenager. If I could avoid dealing with people it'd make things easier. At least zombies only want to eat you. He wasn't sure how many people knew about what happened at the rest stop, he didn't think Joe would have told the others and he knew Hank wouldn't have said anything beyond the basics.

In reply to Dominic Dubreton (msg # 55):

Mahmoud and Dominic had been working together long enough now that they were fairly in sync when fighting the undead side by side. When their new leader cast himself against the zed that Mahmoud had been luring, he knew he had to move quick or the tables could just as easily turn the other way.

"Got it Dom, just keep him steady.." Mahmoud moved forward, pulling a thin but long fillet style knife from an up to now hidden sheathe at his ankle to carry out the war effort.

The visor raised by the brave Doc, Mahmoud brought a hand onto the upper part of the helmet, his thumb assisting in keeping that visor up and out of the way. Raising his other hand, he quickly zeroed in on the easy entry to the biter's brain. With the two of them keeping the snarling, grasping beast as still as allowable, Mahmoud was able to sink his blade into the corner of the zed's eyesocket and into its frontal lobe, slaying it.

"You alright, Dominic?" The long standing Caravaner asked Dom immediately after their mutual threat was put out of its misery, concern on his features but not seeing any bites on the other man.

Bohannon side-stepped the Zombies to be the first one into the van. He'd let the others deal with them while he took a cursory first glance. Wielding the orange gym bag he found, Bohannon stood just inside the van, pulling the door closed behind him. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the darkness. Once they did, the cowboy took stock of the contents...

Two passenger benches lined the side walls of the van, for the SWAT Team to ride on. In the centre of the floor was strewn the seized cache of drugs and weapons from a DEA raid, all bagged and tagged for evidence processing.

The weapons found included eight guns. Three were rifles, one modded with a suppressor. The remaining five handguns were fairly standard, though decorative pistols along with two suppressors, and a couple thousand rounds of assorted ammunition.

Next to those were three bankers boxes containing the illicit items seized in the raid. All the boxes were sealed shut with tape and labeled on the sides and lids. The first box was assorted small quantities of cocaine, ecstasy, and pot. The second box contained several thousand dollars in cash, and a couple large bags of assorted prescription pain pills. The third box was full of heroine, packaged individually for sale, and for distribution hidden inside of ceramic statues of religious figures. And last were five bricks of heroine stuffed inside a very expensive guitar with the word "FATE" scrawled up the fretboard that the cops were too sheepish to have smashed open.

Bohannon stooped and hurriedly dug through all of the items as the others finished up outside. He wanted to take his pick before the others interjected.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:50, Sun 24 Jan 2016.

In reply to Tom (msg # 60):

Karen listened intently to Tom's answer, trying to take what he said and apply it to Kaidan. She was still holding onto some small glimmer of hope that he was alive out there somewhere. "Would it..." Karen paused as Bohannon hopped up into the van alone. Her brain went in circles trying to figure out how to ask what she wanted to ask. "...Would it be easier to survive out here... if you didn't... feel... anything?"

Karen was always pretty private about the way her son was. She figured he faked it well enough that most people wouldn't notice, and those that were important enough to be a part of his life, those that were close enough, would figure it out, and that talking about made it more of a big deal than it really was. Kaidan's grandparents refused to acknowledge it. His dad killed himself because he was scared of it. And his teachers were too blind to see it. The way Kaidan was was Karen's alone to carry. And that he was missing and possibly dead, that was hers too.

A low curse escaped Tom's lips as he followed Karen's gaze. What did Benson think he was doing? First Brady now this? His grip tightened on the tire iron. Feel anything...? He slowly figured she had to be wondering about Kaidan, why else would she be asking him about making it on his own? But feelings? I guess... His frustration at Benson hiding during the fight turning to confusion at what Karen was implying. It'd depend on who I ran into, really. That and the situation. He bit his chapped lips, unsure how to try and reassure her. There's a lot of freaks out there, but there's also groups like this one. I'm sure he's fine.

Feeling the corpse grow heavy as its un-life was taken from it Dominic released his grip from around its neck and simply let the thing fall to the floor to then roll up the thick leather sleeve of his jacket to reveal an arm thankfully devoid of bite marks despite the pinching of teeth he'd felt at one point during the struggle "Oui...I'm fine" Dominic replied to Mahmoud; letting the sleeve drop as he returned to the first Zed that he'd dispatched.
With two of the remaining three Zed's now incapacitated; one by handcuffs and the others by crippled limbs, Dom left the remaining one for someone else to deal with as he placed a booted foot upon the dead Zed's head and with a horribly wet sucking sound pulled his sword free of its skull.
Pausing long enough to end the fat Zed with an almost casual thrust to the skull Dom made his way to the van to find the Cowboy already inside "found anything good in here mon ami?" he called as he climbed inside. Taking only a cursory look at the guns and drugs as he sought out the first aid kit that he knew would be in here.
He eventually found what he was looking for strapped beneath one of the benches, and aside from a few minor items it appeared to be mostly complete. Or at least complete enough to do a better job of treating Karen's wounded side.
With first aid kit in hand Dominic slowly makes his way to the door trying his best not to see what the Cowboy was doing, suspecting that it was not for the good of the caravan that he had been in here first. So long as he didn’t touch the pain meds or get himself or someone else addicted or killed then he could help himself to whatever the hell he liked.

After they had finished off the last of the walkers, Mahmoud was much like the others curious about what they could pilfer from the DEA van. His reaction was similar to Tom and some of the others considering Bohannon's behavior. He thought it should have been addressed by Dominic but he also knew that now was not a good time for a debate or a fight.

Nominally a logistical guy for the Caravan, Mahmoud came to the door of the van, opening it if it wasn't already by Dominic. Promptly the man was whipping out a crumpled notepad with a pencil from his pack, which he had set down just outside the door, and began taking inventory of everything that Bohannon had not yet scavenged for himself. "Looks like we have enough firearms for everyone, Doc. We can barter the rest of the stuff if we encounter anyone friendly. We should find a place to store out of sight what we can't carry. Can come back for things later, maybe."

While the others went through the van, NM had already sheathed his machete into its place along his thigh. Instead of crowding the spoils of war that had until recently been locked up, he was starting on the less glamorous task of stripping the dead of their SWAT gear. He kept mum on Bohannon's behavior, but left it alone. They were all too tired, hungry and exposed for any of that nonsense. There were still plenty of good people left in the group, anyway.

NM's primary goal was to acquire new(for him) socks and boots, and th rest would follow. They were what he was using the most since the flood and had been ruined by the effects of the storm.

Going down to his knee's, NM settled upon one of the several corpses and began bottom up, his dirty fingers working diligently to undo the combat boots from the deceased SWAT officer. He didn't know if it would fit, but he'd try every set if he had to until he found one that fit well enough. "We are going to be quite formidable with all this." Mexeeco mused to no one in particular, his hair falling down around the gaunt edges of his face as he pulled the first boot free from the dead body.

Izzy wasn't as content to let go the fact that Bohannon had snaked his way in through the van doors while the rest of them risked their lives. She stood waiting outside on the pavement while Bohannon finished scooping up his choice items, whereas Mahmoud and Dominic pretended not to notice the selfish behavior.

Whenever Bohannon did step out, Izzy would obstruct his path, her features neutral but her eyes judging as she stares up at the cowboy. "Why the hurry, Eastwood? What'd you take?" She held her walking staff in one hand, the end bloodied somewhat as it rested on the ground, helping keep her upright. "You don't get to murder someone in this group and then steal from this group." She wasn't going to let him walk away without being confronted. One leg or not, she wasn't having it. "Drop the bag."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:25, Sat 30 Jan 2016.

Bohannon's bag had filled out a little between when Dominic left and when Isabelle confronted him. In reality, he had slipped the big Ziploc of prescription pills into the gym bag and tucked it under the extra clothes in there, and then tossed a couple boxes of Colt cartridges on top... But he wasn't ready to reveal his treachery just yet.

"Relax stumpy, you know anyone else that uses these?" Boh reached in the bag and held up one of the boxes of bullets. If Mahmoud conducted his inventory thoroughly enough he'd see the evidence tag on the outside of the box the listed around a thousand prescription pills, but Bohannon hoped to be in a better position when that happened... as in not cornered and with his gun loaded. Bohannon replaced the box into the bag and took the two steps down to meet Izzy at her level.

She clearly wasn't convinced...
This message was last edited by the player at 02:49, Sun 31 Jan 2016.

With the van’s undead guardian's dispatched it was like Christmas for the survivor's as they began picking through the contents of not only the van but the dead SWAT team's pockets with NM already helping himself to a set of armour and some new boots "That's the idea Mon ami, even raiders will think twice if they see us with this kit" Dominic replied to the teen as he made his way over to where Karen was sat talking with Tom "We take the guns and whatever prescription stuff they have in there, the horse and E's we leave for anyone stupid enough to take it" he then said, calling over to Mahmoud who seemed to be currently taking an inventory of the van's contents with the paramedic managing to get a few more steps before stopping to then call "...oh, and take the money it'll make good kindling" who'd have thought a couple of grand in cash would have no other use than starting a fire? And personally he’d throw the narcotics onto it as well. Although he knew that Heroin would work as a pain killer he had no intention of using that stuff unless things were really desperate and he also had no intention of treating addicts which was perhaps something he’d have to point out to the Cowboy, considering what he was currently picking over.
Walking up to the injured blonde, Dominic offers her a smile as he holds up the first aid kit he'd scavenged "Hey Karen, lets get you into the back of that van and I'll get that wound of yours dealt with...sound good?" he asked, figuring she'd prefer lying down on one of the benches as opposed to the road. It would also give her a bit of privacy because although they'd all been living with one another in pretty close quarters for quite a while now she probably wouldn't want to strip off in front of everyone.
It was around about this point that Dominic could hear Izzy's raised voice as she challenged Bohannon, with the Cowboy claiming he'd taken nothing but some ammunition. Giving a weary sigh Dominic turns to look at the Cowboy and in a level voice starts to sort out a situation he'd hoped to avoid "Cowboy...somewhere in that van there's an inventory clipboard...if we dig it out are we going find more than few .45 round's missing?"

Between him and Mahmoud mopping up the remaining zeds was simple, no thanks to Benson, the one he injured helping to trip up the others. Leaning against the blocking car he ran a hand through his hair, ignoring the slight pull as knots were broken up. He'd have to hit the barbershop when they got to Slaughter. Taking a moment he glanced over to where Tom and Karen were talking, a slight smile tugging at his corner of his mouth. It was good to see him interacting with more then those he usually did. Of course he'll have to now. Turning as the smile faded he moved to start stripping the SWAT members of their gear, though he kept an ear on what was happening with Benson. Not that he expected the man to do anything, but it helped to be prepared.