West of Brownson-
Nebraska State Trooper Erica Spears steered her helicopter to the west, following the highway towards the T-Bone and the promise of additional fuel. Below her, she could see several zombies scattered along the highway, some of them prying at wrecked cars and trying to get at something within. As the chopper approached, they stopped what they were doing and looked up. They stumbled after the chopper as it soared overhead, out of their reach, and then returned their attention to the highway once it had gone by. She glanced over to Michael Walters, the Englishman seated beside her. He was alternately looking out the window and watching her handle the controls. He seemed a bit shaken, but relieved to be safely in the air. "You look like you know your way around a helicopter," she remarked.
Erica glanced into the backseat, where Kimberly was still trying to bandage the bite on her arm. "How's it going back there?" asked the pilot.
"A little better now," replied Kimberly. The undercover DEA agent had managed to stop the bleeding and repair her torn flesh. "They sure bite hard." She had needed to tie a tourniquet around her upper arm to stop the flow of blood.
(Michael, roll Spot Hidden and Idea.)
On the ground below, Baldwin steered his massive tractor trailer onto Route 30, also heading west back towards the T-Bone. The zombies that had been coming towards the Brownson airfield were in pursuit, but they were moving too slowly to catch up. He placed his empty revolver and six of his eight remaining bullets on the seat between himself and his fellow truck driver, Wallace Red Crow. "You might want to reload that when you get a chance," he said. "I'd do it myself, but I need to concentrate on driving."
As the big black trucker picked up speed, he could see a few more of the ghouls in the road ahead. They turned towards the rig and shuffled after it. State Trooper Joe Barring sat in the shotgun seat and held his Mossberg Mariner ready. It currently had five shells loaded in it, but it could hold another four. The window was rolled up, but one good punch from a zombie could easily smash it. The few they could see in the nearby distance weren't much of a threat, but who knew what lay further ahead?
(Wallace and Joe, roll Spot Hidden.)
At the motel-
Captain Lereux listened as Javier Ramirez finished passing on the information about the local situation and gave him the motel keys. "Thanks," he said. "See what else you can find out." As Ramirez headed back to the two medical people in orange suits, Lereux activated his throat microphone and contacted the three Huey UH-1N helicopters hovering overhead: "This is Captain Lereux. On your way back to base, keep an eye out for a large group of over fifty infected people approaching from the west and some stragglers on the highway. They may be coming through the tall grass, so they'd be hard to spot. I'd appreciate it if you could take them out and give us some breathing room."
"Roger that, Captain," came the reply. "Good luck with your mission."
The three choppers banked to the west and began flying away, the gunship in the lead and the other two bringing up the rear. Had they stayed around, they might have caused complications for the State Police helicopter that was on its way there, but fortunately they would be gone before it could arrive.
"Wait, they're leaving?!" said Stephanie Bridges. The stranded scientist had hoped that she and Dr. Brigetta Hausmann could get some extra fuel from them so they'd have enough to reach Omaha, or better still give them a lift, but she should have realized that it was a vain hope.
"They have other missions to fly," explained Lt. Angela Blanco as she and Zorie Spooner, the women in the orange suits, examined Mr. Foo, the owner of the motel. "I'm sure they'll return if they're needed."
"Sergeant Black!" called Lereux. "See if you can spot a badly wounded dog coming from the south, possibly infected."
The sniper on the hill to the north nodded and peered through his rifle scope. His spotter, Airman Bobby Sheen, also looked to the south. "Dogs can get infected, too?" he said. "Well, even if it's not we might want to put the poor thing out of its misery. Looks like we might get a little practice in, Sarge."
(Sergeant Sam Black, roll Spot Hidden.)
"I hope they finish sweeping the motel quickly," said Lt. Elizabeth Malone. "We've been without intel for too long already."
Sergeant Edward McCain led Corporal Alanen's fire team around the motel to the west side. All of the doors that they came across, on ground level and up on the balcony, were locked except for the one broken motel room door on the balcony that Alanen had reported. McCain rounded the northwest corner while Airman Bruce Thayer did the same on the balcony above him. Corporal Alanen and Airman Manuel Ortega reached the southwest corner at about the same time. From here they could get a good view to the west. The three helicopters were still visible in the distance. The gunship pointed its forward-mounted machine gun down at something in the grass and opened fire, spraying death across its firing arc.
(Sergeant Edward McCain and Manuel Ortega, roll Spot Hidden.)
"You said you got blown up by a grenade?" said Zorie Spooner as she finished drawing blood from Mr. Foo. She put a bandage on the old Chinese man's arm, then labeled the tube of his blood and put it away. Next she took out a blood pressure cuff and wrapped it around his arm. "Hold still, please. This won't hurt."
"It was those skinheads from the Prairie Militia Society," he said as Javier Ramirez returned and Jenny Cooper arrived. "They placed a satchel charge at the diner. Their leader was about to set it off when I killed him. Then another one fired a grenade at me from his M-16/203 as I tried to escape around the corner. Luckily, I only took a little shrapnel. Somehow the satchel charge went off anyway later, and you can see the results." He pointed at the diner, which was now missing its western wall. "Their compound is not far to the north of here. Some of them escaped and probably headed back there."
Angela Blanco turned to Stephanie. "Mr. Foo mentioned that you're a scientist and that you've made some discoveries about this infection," she said.
"That's right," said Stephanie. "It doesn't work like you think it does. From what I've learned through talking to people over the comm network, the symptoms are caused by the bite, but I haven't heard of it being spread by touch before."
"We've had reports of people who were attacked by infected persons but not bitten, yet they still turned."
"Ah, I think I can explain that. The actual infection caused by the bite isn't what makes them go berserk and start eating people. It seemed that way at first, but from what I've deduced the infection merely kills them, which takes a couple of hours, and their dead bodies are then animated electrically."
"Oh, that makes me feel so much better," said Zorie, her voice dripping with irony. She finished reading Mr. Foo's blood pressure. "Blood pressure's a little elevated, but that's understandable given the circumstances." She removed the cuff.
Angela looked skeptical. "Come again?"
Stephanie took a deep breath. "I know this may seem difficult to believe, but bear with me. I'm a government scientist, assistant to Dr. Brigetta Hausmann of the CDC. For the past year or so we've been engaged in secret research. Considering the situation, I think it's necessary to tell you something about it. You need to know this information in order to save lives.
"For the past few years, the annual Leonid meteor showers have been depositing a compound all over the world, and it has since worked its way into the water cycle and by now into every living organism. The Crisis Response Center in Omaha, where we were heading when our helicopter broke down, has concluded that something has triggered this compound - I spoke to them over the comm network earlier. I had already figured out that this phenomenon was bioelectrical in nature, a process similar to galvanism. There is some external power source that operates through this compound, causing dead bodies to reanimate and attack the living."
"It is true," said Mr. Foo. "After I killed the skinhead leader, I saw him get back up and attack one of his comrades."
"But..." started Angela, "how is this possible? Causing a dead frog's legs to kick is one thing, but this?"
"It's the same basic principle, but with more advanced technology. I don't fully understand how it works myself, but I've seen that it does. There's no way someone could survive the kinds of wounds some of these infected people have taken, and I've fought them myself so I know how hard they are to bring down. A few of them I've killed with a single shot to the head, but one I shot twice in the head and only slowed it down. They don't feel pain or fear because they're already dead."
"Hmm." Angela seemed receptive to the idea, but Zorie still looked unsure. "That does make a certain kind of sense when you put it that way."
"I don't know," said Zorie. "Even if you're right - and I'm not saying you are - contact might still spread the infection, but with a longer incubation period."
"We don't really know that for certain, though."
"Yes, doctor, but we don't know that it's not true, either." She looked at Mr. Foo with sympathy in her eyes. "It's just better to err on the side of caution. You seem healthy to me, but until we can make sure we need to keep you isolated to prevent the spread."
"Thank you," he said, "but I need to find out if my wife is okay first. She was at the diner when the bomb went off. After that, I guess I could stay in one of the motel rooms."
"I'm sorry," said Angela. "Captain Lereux would never allow that. He won't risk anyone who is potentially infected staying at the motel and possibly spreading it to his people."
"But where else can they stay?" protested Stephanie. "Not at the diner! The place could come down any time. They'll be sitting ducks if they can't get over to the motel!"
"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do. If we could prove that these people aren't infected I'd be willing, but it isn't my decision. I could ask the captain, but I already know what he'll say. Is there anything else you have to add?"
"Yes, lots."
Corporal Ian Cole watched the survivors outside the T-Bone with a wary eye and his weapon ready. Airman Justin Hockey stood on one side of him with his SAW held tight, and Airman Carlos Duran was on his other side with his M-16A2.
(Cole and Hockey, roll Spot Hidden.)
In the parking lot-
Randall looked back at the troopers warily, then returned his attention to Jimmy. The teenager's wounds were fully healed, but he was still in something of a state of shock. "It's okay now," said the law student, helping the lad to his feet. "Those things are gone. You're safe." He tactfully didn't mention that there would doubtless be more zombies on the way. No sense scaring the poor kid. In his panicky state, he might run towards the soldiers and get himself shot full of holes.
Beth and Samantha made their way to the east side of the diner, where the people who had survived the blast were climbing down the ladder with Gary's help. By now all of them had reached the ground, with Luke the last one down.
"There are some badly injured people below," said Gary. "Any of you with medical training should see to them. I'll need some help shoring up the closet to keep the roof there from collapsing and blocking the stairway."
David nodded. "Let me go check on my truck. If the lumber inside is okay, we could use that."
"Good. In the meantime, we can use some of the debris left by the explosion."
"I'll help with the wounded," said Sally, heading for the back door, which had been smashed in by the zombies and then reduced to splinters by the blast.
"Ja," said Dr. Hausmann. "I had best come too and see what I can do for Bob. I don't like the idea of getting stuck down there, so let us do this quickly."
"You're not going anywhere without me and Jim," said Bo.
Mrs. Foo looked around the corner and towards the motel. "I must go see my husband," she said.
Underneath the T-Bone-
As much as Lynne tried, she could not get through to Kerry. The young woman just rocked back and forth, moaning and staring into space. "Maybe once we get some food in you you'll feel better," said the waitress.
In the ruined diner-
Robert continued to spray what was left of the fire with his extinguisher. Though he was inexperienced, he was still able to make more progress. The flames were now confined to one corner, and he could put them out in another minute or so. "Never mind finding another extinguisher!" he called to his friend Duke. "I think I've got this under control."
Now that the excitement had passed, Max the dog turned around and headed back down the stairs. Mitchell passed him on his way up, carrying a crate in his arms, this one containing the M-1 Garands, as well as the remaining M-14 and .45 automatics. "I've got some of the guns here," he said. "That girl downstairs could use something to eat and drink. She looks like she hasn't had anything in days!"
Nebraska State Trooper Erica Spears steered her helicopter to the west, following the highway towards the T-Bone and the promise of additional fuel. Below her, she could see several zombies scattered along the highway, some of them prying at wrecked cars and trying to get at something within. As the chopper approached, they stopped what they were doing and looked up. They stumbled after the chopper as it soared overhead, out of their reach, and then returned their attention to the highway once it had gone by. She glanced over to Michael Walters, the Englishman seated beside her. He was alternately looking out the window and watching her handle the controls. He seemed a bit shaken, but relieved to be safely in the air. "You look like you know your way around a helicopter," she remarked.
Erica glanced into the backseat, where Kimberly was still trying to bandage the bite on her arm. "How's it going back there?" asked the pilot.
"A little better now," replied Kimberly. The undercover DEA agent had managed to stop the bleeding and repair her torn flesh. "They sure bite hard." She had needed to tie a tourniquet around her upper arm to stop the flow of blood.
(Michael, roll Spot Hidden and Idea.)
On the ground below, Baldwin steered his massive tractor trailer onto Route 30, also heading west back towards the T-Bone. The zombies that had been coming towards the Brownson airfield were in pursuit, but they were moving too slowly to catch up. He placed his empty revolver and six of his eight remaining bullets on the seat between himself and his fellow truck driver, Wallace Red Crow. "You might want to reload that when you get a chance," he said. "I'd do it myself, but I need to concentrate on driving."
As the big black trucker picked up speed, he could see a few more of the ghouls in the road ahead. They turned towards the rig and shuffled after it. State Trooper Joe Barring sat in the shotgun seat and held his Mossberg Mariner ready. It currently had five shells loaded in it, but it could hold another four. The window was rolled up, but one good punch from a zombie could easily smash it. The few they could see in the nearby distance weren't much of a threat, but who knew what lay further ahead?
(Wallace and Joe, roll Spot Hidden.)
At the motel-
Captain Lereux listened as Javier Ramirez finished passing on the information about the local situation and gave him the motel keys. "Thanks," he said. "See what else you can find out." As Ramirez headed back to the two medical people in orange suits, Lereux activated his throat microphone and contacted the three Huey UH-1N helicopters hovering overhead: "This is Captain Lereux. On your way back to base, keep an eye out for a large group of over fifty infected people approaching from the west and some stragglers on the highway. They may be coming through the tall grass, so they'd be hard to spot. I'd appreciate it if you could take them out and give us some breathing room."
"Roger that, Captain," came the reply. "Good luck with your mission."
The three choppers banked to the west and began flying away, the gunship in the lead and the other two bringing up the rear. Had they stayed around, they might have caused complications for the State Police helicopter that was on its way there, but fortunately they would be gone before it could arrive.
"Wait, they're leaving?!" said Stephanie Bridges. The stranded scientist had hoped that she and Dr. Brigetta Hausmann could get some extra fuel from them so they'd have enough to reach Omaha, or better still give them a lift, but she should have realized that it was a vain hope.
"They have other missions to fly," explained Lt. Angela Blanco as she and Zorie Spooner, the women in the orange suits, examined Mr. Foo, the owner of the motel. "I'm sure they'll return if they're needed."
"Sergeant Black!" called Lereux. "See if you can spot a badly wounded dog coming from the south, possibly infected."
The sniper on the hill to the north nodded and peered through his rifle scope. His spotter, Airman Bobby Sheen, also looked to the south. "Dogs can get infected, too?" he said. "Well, even if it's not we might want to put the poor thing out of its misery. Looks like we might get a little practice in, Sarge."
(Sergeant Sam Black, roll Spot Hidden.)
"I hope they finish sweeping the motel quickly," said Lt. Elizabeth Malone. "We've been without intel for too long already."
Sergeant Edward McCain led Corporal Alanen's fire team around the motel to the west side. All of the doors that they came across, on ground level and up on the balcony, were locked except for the one broken motel room door on the balcony that Alanen had reported. McCain rounded the northwest corner while Airman Bruce Thayer did the same on the balcony above him. Corporal Alanen and Airman Manuel Ortega reached the southwest corner at about the same time. From here they could get a good view to the west. The three helicopters were still visible in the distance. The gunship pointed its forward-mounted machine gun down at something in the grass and opened fire, spraying death across its firing arc.
(Sergeant Edward McCain and Manuel Ortega, roll Spot Hidden.)
"You said you got blown up by a grenade?" said Zorie Spooner as she finished drawing blood from Mr. Foo. She put a bandage on the old Chinese man's arm, then labeled the tube of his blood and put it away. Next she took out a blood pressure cuff and wrapped it around his arm. "Hold still, please. This won't hurt."
"It was those skinheads from the Prairie Militia Society," he said as Javier Ramirez returned and Jenny Cooper arrived. "They placed a satchel charge at the diner. Their leader was about to set it off when I killed him. Then another one fired a grenade at me from his M-16/203 as I tried to escape around the corner. Luckily, I only took a little shrapnel. Somehow the satchel charge went off anyway later, and you can see the results." He pointed at the diner, which was now missing its western wall. "Their compound is not far to the north of here. Some of them escaped and probably headed back there."
Angela Blanco turned to Stephanie. "Mr. Foo mentioned that you're a scientist and that you've made some discoveries about this infection," she said.
"That's right," said Stephanie. "It doesn't work like you think it does. From what I've learned through talking to people over the comm network, the symptoms are caused by the bite, but I haven't heard of it being spread by touch before."
"We've had reports of people who were attacked by infected persons but not bitten, yet they still turned."
"Ah, I think I can explain that. The actual infection caused by the bite isn't what makes them go berserk and start eating people. It seemed that way at first, but from what I've deduced the infection merely kills them, which takes a couple of hours, and their dead bodies are then animated electrically."
"Oh, that makes me feel so much better," said Zorie, her voice dripping with irony. She finished reading Mr. Foo's blood pressure. "Blood pressure's a little elevated, but that's understandable given the circumstances." She removed the cuff.
Angela looked skeptical. "Come again?"
Stephanie took a deep breath. "I know this may seem difficult to believe, but bear with me. I'm a government scientist, assistant to Dr. Brigetta Hausmann of the CDC. For the past year or so we've been engaged in secret research. Considering the situation, I think it's necessary to tell you something about it. You need to know this information in order to save lives.
"For the past few years, the annual Leonid meteor showers have been depositing a compound all over the world, and it has since worked its way into the water cycle and by now into every living organism. The Crisis Response Center in Omaha, where we were heading when our helicopter broke down, has concluded that something has triggered this compound - I spoke to them over the comm network earlier. I had already figured out that this phenomenon was bioelectrical in nature, a process similar to galvanism. There is some external power source that operates through this compound, causing dead bodies to reanimate and attack the living."
"It is true," said Mr. Foo. "After I killed the skinhead leader, I saw him get back up and attack one of his comrades."
"But..." started Angela, "how is this possible? Causing a dead frog's legs to kick is one thing, but this?"
"It's the same basic principle, but with more advanced technology. I don't fully understand how it works myself, but I've seen that it does. There's no way someone could survive the kinds of wounds some of these infected people have taken, and I've fought them myself so I know how hard they are to bring down. A few of them I've killed with a single shot to the head, but one I shot twice in the head and only slowed it down. They don't feel pain or fear because they're already dead."
"Hmm." Angela seemed receptive to the idea, but Zorie still looked unsure. "That does make a certain kind of sense when you put it that way."
"I don't know," said Zorie. "Even if you're right - and I'm not saying you are - contact might still spread the infection, but with a longer incubation period."
"We don't really know that for certain, though."
"Yes, doctor, but we don't know that it's not true, either." She looked at Mr. Foo with sympathy in her eyes. "It's just better to err on the side of caution. You seem healthy to me, but until we can make sure we need to keep you isolated to prevent the spread."
"Thank you," he said, "but I need to find out if my wife is okay first. She was at the diner when the bomb went off. After that, I guess I could stay in one of the motel rooms."
"I'm sorry," said Angela. "Captain Lereux would never allow that. He won't risk anyone who is potentially infected staying at the motel and possibly spreading it to his people."
"But where else can they stay?" protested Stephanie. "Not at the diner! The place could come down any time. They'll be sitting ducks if they can't get over to the motel!"
"I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do. If we could prove that these people aren't infected I'd be willing, but it isn't my decision. I could ask the captain, but I already know what he'll say. Is there anything else you have to add?"
"Yes, lots."
Corporal Ian Cole watched the survivors outside the T-Bone with a wary eye and his weapon ready. Airman Justin Hockey stood on one side of him with his SAW held tight, and Airman Carlos Duran was on his other side with his M-16A2.
(Cole and Hockey, roll Spot Hidden.)
In the parking lot-
Randall looked back at the troopers warily, then returned his attention to Jimmy. The teenager's wounds were fully healed, but he was still in something of a state of shock. "It's okay now," said the law student, helping the lad to his feet. "Those things are gone. You're safe." He tactfully didn't mention that there would doubtless be more zombies on the way. No sense scaring the poor kid. In his panicky state, he might run towards the soldiers and get himself shot full of holes.
Beth and Samantha made their way to the east side of the diner, where the people who had survived the blast were climbing down the ladder with Gary's help. By now all of them had reached the ground, with Luke the last one down.
"There are some badly injured people below," said Gary. "Any of you with medical training should see to them. I'll need some help shoring up the closet to keep the roof there from collapsing and blocking the stairway."
David nodded. "Let me go check on my truck. If the lumber inside is okay, we could use that."
"Good. In the meantime, we can use some of the debris left by the explosion."
"I'll help with the wounded," said Sally, heading for the back door, which had been smashed in by the zombies and then reduced to splinters by the blast.
"Ja," said Dr. Hausmann. "I had best come too and see what I can do for Bob. I don't like the idea of getting stuck down there, so let us do this quickly."
"You're not going anywhere without me and Jim," said Bo.
Mrs. Foo looked around the corner and towards the motel. "I must go see my husband," she said.
Underneath the T-Bone-
As much as Lynne tried, she could not get through to Kerry. The young woman just rocked back and forth, moaning and staring into space. "Maybe once we get some food in you you'll feel better," said the waitress.
In the ruined diner-
Robert continued to spray what was left of the fire with his extinguisher. Though he was inexperienced, he was still able to make more progress. The flames were now confined to one corner, and he could put them out in another minute or so. "Never mind finding another extinguisher!" he called to his friend Duke. "I think I've got this under control."
Now that the excitement had passed, Max the dog turned around and headed back down the stairs. Mitchell passed him on his way up, carrying a crate in his arms, this one containing the M-1 Garands, as well as the remaining M-14 and .45 automatics. "I've got some of the guns here," he said. "That girl downstairs could use something to eat and drink. She looks like she hasn't had anything in days!"
