Urban Dead: The Price of the Oath

[Caz]

Sherry looked to the left toward Harvey, who'd remained quiet since they'd hopped in.
"Guess this is it," she said with a bit of a grin.

The man was a career Blackcap, and somehow he'd had the grit to stick around even now.
He'd seen her at what might have been the weakest moment of her life. He'd been the one that had to look her in the eye after all that uncertainty and tell his boss that she was still alive, because she really hadn't been sure.

"Who the fuck knew we'd end up here 'stead of collecting like fucking loan sharks, eh?" she mused, returning her stare to the road.

[Josh]

He pondered that for a long moment, then nodded. "I know what you mean."

It wasn't a particularly politically correct sentiment, but be damned if it wasn't true.

They drove on in silence, reaching the parking point. The rest of the way out would be on foot. Everyone piled out. Guard and Militia would be going in straight, under the direction of their various commanders. The Irregulars would be hitting the flank. It was a tall order, but they were up to it.

"Remember," he said on the radio. "They're roosting in the buildings. We draw them out where we have the advantage. Follow your orders, and let's make these bastards pay for coming on our turf. Books, over to you."

Zimmerman, back at the mall, began maneuvering them into their initial dispositions, the teams spreading out. Petro and Reaper lagged behind a bit, listening in and waiting for contact.

[Caz]

Sherry felt the hot thudding of her heart in her chest and took a deep breath as the trucks rolled to a stop.

"Right, Zim," she said into her radio. "Tell us where to stick these little cherry bombs?"

[Josh]

"Parrish street and Blythe avenue," Zimmerman said. "Be careful with those damned things."

[Caz]

Sherry, perched atop the truck's cap in a crouch like a gargoyle, relayed the instructions.

"We're the wind, boys," she said, as she was the only female of the troupe. "Stick to the streets and keep your ears clear. Whisky and handjobs, right?"

She grinned down at Lenny and Harv. Inside joke.

They dispersed like phantoms into the night.

[Josh]

He crouched down behind a trash can, resisting the urge to light a smoke and listening to the reports filter in on the radio. No contact yet...

[Cynical Cat]

Reaper stood with his head cocked. Listening. Shamblers would move soon. If they were here.

[Caz]

The Guard were the first to contact, and by then the barrels were already in place. Gunshots peppered the black night with occasional bursts of light that left burns across Sherry's retinas.

She closed her eyes, inhaled. The adrenaline was in full swing now.

She felt like an animal and loved it.

[Josh]

"Contact!" the call came.

So far so good. Everyone was staying calm, sticking to the plan.

"Head Hunter," he chipped in when there was a moment. "Ferals or organized?"

[Cynical Cat]

Wendigo walked towards the carnage at a steady pace. More shamblers would be coming soon. The fight would attract them. Probably from another direction. "Let them come!"

[Caz]

"Too early to tell," Marley said as the militia arrived.

Sherry crouched at the mouth of an alley, watching as the other assorted Irregulars took up their positions.

"When the fireballs go, hit 'em hard and fast and keep out of the fire," she said.

[Josh]

He followed along after Reaper, shotgun at ready, listening carefully to the radio.

There was a loud growl from the building to their left, and suddenly a dozen zombies poured from the opening.

Now that was organized...

[Cynical Cat]

Reaper shot the leader in the chest with a shotgun. It staggered. Then he shot it in the stomach and then blew apart its left leg. They were close now. He dropped the shotgun and drew his axe. His first blow splattered him with slime and gore and nearly cut the shrambler in half.

[Josh]

"Horde activity by the Lancing building," Petro said over his radio, blasting one that was attempting to flank Reaper. "We need a squad here now!"

More were coming out. Reaper might be a certified bad-ass and he was't bad himself, but the numbers were seriously against them. He dropped another one with a shot to the head. Zimmerman chimed in, pulling one of the militia squads back their way.

[Caz]

Marley and his unit seemed to materialise out of thin air around Petro and Reaper. Most weren't bothering to take down zombies with their firearms, just disable with the axes. After all, they'd all burn to death the same, headshot or no.

Further down the road, another dozen or so burst from an empty lot.

"All right," Sherry said to Zimmerman as she relayed everyone's positions. "Tell me when."

[Cynical Cat]

Reaper howled, "I am the Eater of the Dead!" His brought his axe down on another zombie. It tried to block with its right arm. The bone shattered and the zombie staggered. The skull exploded with the next blow.

Reaper was too close now. The started to swarm around him. He dropped the axe and drew his blades. One went into the skull of a zombie and it fell. He sliced through the arm and chest muscles of another, crippling it. Hands closed on him. Claws scored his skin.

He smashed one in the face with his elbow and got room. He kicked another away. He nearly severed the arms of a third. He was caked with filth. He was far from done.

[Caz]

Sherry watched the scene unfold, then looked to the Irregulars on the roofs of the buildings that flanked the streets. They held drop lines designed to pull the Militia and Guard members out of the fray, and each of the men on this mission had been briefed.

She steadied herself.

"Hold it, a while longer," she said. "We have to get 'em all."

[Josh]

He howled and jumped in next to Reaper, reversing his shotgun to buttstroke an encroaching zombie on the chin, snapping its neck. He ducked a claw strike and fired his last round into the attacker's stomach, as the militia closed in around them, beating down the attack.

"Keep luring them in," Frank said.

[Cynical Cat]

They had brought him room. He advanced, slashing up another's arms and driving a blade into its brain. He kicked the corpse away and went after the next one.

[Josh]

"Reaper!" he said, getting himself under control. "We're pulling back. C'mon!"

Even if they were otherwise inclined, more zombies were shambling into view, disgorging from buildings.

Something strange here, though...

No leaders. They were staying inside.

Fuck.

Well, they'd have to break the mass of the horde before digging them out, then.

[Cynical Cat]

He sheathed his knives and scuttled back to his weapons. A shambler lunged forward and seized his arm. He dragged it back with him and then pulled it in. He raised it high up and then brought it back down, breaking its spine on his knee. He tossed it at the nearest shambler, knocking it down. He retrieved his weapons and hissed.

[Caz]

That was it.

There were too many of them.

"Drop the lines!" Sherry hissed into the radio. She sent a single flare up into the night sky, a signal for the regulars to get their asses up the drop lines and onto the fire escapes.

They had two minutes.

[Josh]

"Up the line!" he shouted to Reaper as he started up himself. Getting above talon level, he turned and drew his pistol, firing to cover him. No kill shots, but thudding rounds into targets bought time.

This was gonna be fucking loud.

[Cynical Cat]

He walked quickly backward. He emptied the shotgun into another shambler, knocing it down, before turning and running. He leapted up and caught the bottom of the fire escape, pulling himself up.

[Caz]

At this point, Sherry had began offering cover fire as well, fuck if they knew about her position. They'd all be toast in a minute anyhow.

The bodies scrambled up the lines quickly, pooling on the fire escapes on the second or third level and hoisting their comrades up.

Her eyes scanned the crowd for any familiar faces as the one-minute flare went up from one of the buildings.