Urban Dead: The Price of the Oath

[Caz]

Sherry put her hands on her hips, pulling the hood back with a defiant grin.

"What's that, old man?" she called. "You tellin' me how to do my job?"

[Josh]

He looked back at Mike. "I see she's back up to speed."

[Pcm979]

"Blindingly so." Mike said happily.

[Hedgecore]

"Either way, it'll be hard for 'im to cause any trouble while he's off in dreamland" Murphy radioed back. "We'll drag him down to the infirmary, then. You can give him the once-over or whatever"
He turned to Gator, "You got 'im?"
Gator rolled his eyes as he hoisted Lasko's limp body over his shoulder. "Aye, that's me, the human fuckin taxi"

[Josh]

He smiled wryly. "Good." He clapped him on the shoulder, then headed over to get into the chain of goods distribution. His wheels were out, but he could pass shit along.

[Caz]

Sherry raised an eyebrow as she lifted the box of scarves and gloves. Not nearly enough for everyone, there was no illusion about it, but they'd do what they could when they could, right?

"You sure you're up to it?" she said with a smirk to Petro as he limped toward her. A joke, of course, but the concern in her voice was evident. She'd learned her lesson about appreciation.

--

"Meet me at the southeast corner, Murph?" Melanie asked. She then transmitted:

"Dorian, grab someone else and meet us. Apparently we've got ourselves a lamb wandered too far from the flock. Dunno how bad he's hurt."

[Josh]

He glared for a moment, then remembered she didn't know about the little dance with Silver he'd had just the day before. "I've got two hands," he said. "And people need to see me sharing the work. Good to see ya, Punk Ass."

[Pcm979]

Mike stayed at the trailer, unloading things but not carrying them very far. His stitches weren't up for much more, unfortunately. He worked his way over to the cab and checked on the cats.

[Caz]

"Mighty leader mingling with the populat, huh?" she said with a wide grin. "Someone got the cameras out?"

But as she quieted, lifting the next box from the trailer, she caught his eyes with hers, and then a reassuring nod.

I'm okay.

[Josh]

"I have to keep the common touch so the riff-raff like you keep voting me in," he said, adopting a haughty accent. "Fucking punk." He grinned at her.

[Caz]

"Liar," she said as though stating common knowledge. "You're showing off your hair."

The kittens were mewling continuously, excited by all the commotion and the sounds of other voices. Licorice did what she could for the three in her carrier beside her, licking at their heads and purring as she nuzzled them.

[Josh]

"If ya got it, flaunt it," he said, passing the next crate along. "So how's Mike doing?" he asked.

[Caz]

"We've been... busy," she said in a coy tone, glancing over toward the aforementioned Mike as he inspected the cartons full of cats in the front seat.

"Let's just say he's gotten over that shy side of his."

[Pcm979]

Mike tended to the kittens as best he could, and went on to unloading the chickens, which were extremely agitated.

"Whoa, girls." He said helplessly. A farmhand he was not.

[Josh]

He grinned knowingly at that. Then the shrill whistle erupted. Incursion. Everyone paused to listen to the count. Three in.

He passed the case on. "Keep this shit moving," he ordered. "I'll get on it."

He broke into a staggered jog, moving up on the whistle.

[Pcm979]

Mike handed the chickens to someone else with relief, and turned to Petro as he jogged past.

"Need help?" He asked, fingering his gun.

[Caz]

Sherry nodded as he jogged--well, staggered--off, glancing once to Mike and waving her hand dismissively. He didn't have to worry.

She handed off the bag of coats she'd been lifting to the boy next to her, told him to take over for a second. The line had obviously slowed due to the curiosity at the perimeter breach, and things were beginning to get backed up. The girl jogged along the line, hopping up the wreckage with characteristic grace.

"Keep it moving, people!" she encouraged, "Ain't like you've never heard a goddamn whistle!"

[Hedgecore]

Gator, Lasko over his shoulder, followed Murphy through the roof-access door, and down the stairwell, where they met up with a short red-head who he figured must be 'Mel.' "Ah got 'im, jes show me where to set him, okay?" He snapped.

He knew he shouldn't have, not at them at least. He was just so damn frustrated. Once this Yankee prick is better, then he'll get an fucking earful, he thought to himself.

[Josh]

"We have it covered," he said. He realized that they'd been out long enough that they didn't even know about the spearing. Yet.

He passed the original trench, which had already been filled to capacity. Growls and moans trailed his progress... they'd have to throw a fence up around the damned thing, because it'd really suck to fall in.

The patrol was already at work, jabbing with their spears and cutting with their axes. The trio of shamblers looked fairly young and ineffectual, fortunately.

[Pcm979]

Mike shrugged and went back to unloading, grinning as he watched Sherry zoom around. After a while, his chest and neck started to burn.

"I'm gonna see Ace." He said, hefting the Cats and heading indoors.

[Caz]

With fire in her eyes and a bit of a sneer, the short woman marched straight up to the man in the kilt, eyeing him in a way that wasn't quite a glare but got the message across.

"Last I knew, this was our hospital," she growled, her accent thickening in a response to his own. "Now if you will, sir," the respectful term more an admonition than a compliment, "I'll direct you."

As they headed down the final stairwell, she whistled sharply.

"Dorian!" she called across the space between them and the infirmary's wide entrance, "Lex got any beds ready?"

The grey-haired man adjusted his glasses, then stood and waved them over.

"'Course she did," he said with a thin smile. "Back and to the left, as they say in Dallas."

So what if nobody got the joke.

[Josh]

He stood back, overseeing the work. They had it in hand, didn't need any guidance from him. The patrols knew their job well by now, and if anything they really didn't need the boss watching over them.

A realization he was starting to come to- personal oversight wasn't always the most productive thing he could.

"Good work, boys," he said cheerfully when they finished and began hauling the dismembered bits back to the new trench.

He turned to head back to the food line.

[Pcm979]

Mike made a small detour to drop the kittens off in Sherry's -and now, he supposed, his- room, fetched them something to eat and drink, and then dropped in the infirmary.

"You really got torn up." Whistled Ace, examining his stitchwork.

"I've had worse." Mike demurred, only half-lying. "I'd say they can come out now, don't you think?"

"I wasn't just talking about the chest and neck," said Ace seriously. "You got the shit scratched out of your back, and they tried to take a chunk out of your collarbone."

"Ah." Mike shifted uncomfortably. "Yes, well. You could call that friendly fire." He coloured slightly.

[Hedgecore]

Gator laid the unconscious man down, then slumped into a nearby chair feeling drained. He looked up at Melanie with genuine concern on his face. "I donno what it is. E's not cut or bleedin' or nothin' and, shit, I don't even know the fucker, but found 'im out there an'...please help 'im."

Wonderful, now you're babbling he thought to himself. As hauled himself to his feet, Gator let out a sigh. "Look, ah'll fuck off now...'m sorry"

[Caz]

Dorian tended to the unconscious man with care, pressing the back of his hand to Lasko's forehead to check for a fever. He didn't appear outwardly sick...

Melanie checked in on him, then returned to Gator in time to hear him apologise. She shook her head with a kind smile, saint of saints.

"Don't worry about it," she said, laughing a little. "Things have just been... tense here." And then she stretched, resting her hands on her hips. Good fuck, he was almost taller than her while he was sitting down!

"When's the last time you two ate?" she asked.