DAMNED || LANDEL'S INSTITUTE

A Multifandom Asylum RPG


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Nightshift 42: Bill's Hardware
Lockdown
ruthless_hunter wrote in damned
[from here]

Lockdown kicked the door to the hardware store down and barged in. There was already a zombie in here, a big one, who the bounty hunter guessed was the owner of the store. There were also two other zombies with him, so Lockdown was already outnumbered. But that had never stopped the bounty hunter.

He frantically shifted his optics around the store, before settling on a set of large axes. Dashing forward, and executing a somersault to dodge the hands of the zombies, Lockdown quickly took hold of an axe, preparing to defend himself with it.

"HK, get your aft in here and lend a servo!" The bounty hunter called out.

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Somewhere in his brain, Tim thought that he should have predicted this. Because of course, zombies were the next logical step, weren't they? They were in the middle of nowhere, there were no maps, they'd all been kidnapped from their respective worlds...

Sure. Zombies. Why the hell not.

He supposed that there were worse places to be than a hardware store, though. In case of zombie attack, start here! It was like some crazy video game or something, like "don't shoot the civilians," only, the civilians were the zombies. What a predicament that was; killing a zombie was out of the question, because the zombie was - had been - a citizen.

But then, what the hell kind of rule was that to follow? He'd been following less of them lately, anyway, and this was kind of a dire situation...

His thoughts were jumbling, and he knew it. That wasn't going to cut it. He had to stop worrying about rules and about impressing someone that either wasn't really Batman, or was allegedly dead, depending on who you asked. The most important thing, right now, was to get the hell out of here without becoming zombie food.

He moved to the back of the store and found a curtain rod. It was heavy, made of metal, balanced decently enough. Not his first choice, but it would work in a pinch - meaning right now.

He had a moment where he hoped everyone else, his friends and family, were doing fine. But this wasn't the time to worry. He just had to get out of here. They'd be okay. They had to be.

[closed to Wesker for now, sorry!]

As late as it had gotten, Wesker was hardly surprised that they had not made it back to the institute before night fell. It was much more surprising that they were in town, with the sun not even fully set, when the transformation took place.

That the transformation reached this far out was somewhat disappointing. He had hoped it would be an isolated event to the institute, but it was possible that the town was close enough to be effected. How far did this extend out, though?

Wesker's attention was drawn from such contemplation by very familiar sounds. After so many years of creating and exterminating them, Wesker knew what a zombie sounded like. A glance outside had revealed that they were coming up out of the ground. What were they doing there anyway, this was hardly a cemetery. Wesker grabbed the largest pair of folding knives he could find and stuffed them in his pockets.

He grabbed a sledge hammer and tested the weight and balance of it, before deciding that it would do. It would certainly make smashing in heads much easier. Wesker rounded the corner of an aisle and noted the young man he had met yesterday. He had armed himself with a curtain rod. It wasn't a bad choice, really.

"Evening," Wesker really wasn't too bothered by this. He'd survived worse, and didn't have to worry about infection. "I hope you know how to use that well."

Well, somebody wasn't too bothered by the course of events. Tim glanced in the direction of the voice. The blond man from the cafeteria yesterday. He tried to remember his name, but came up blank. Maybe he'd never gotten it.

The man's unperturbed demeanor made Tim wonder what kind of world he'd come from. He'd make it a point to ask, once they were out of here and not in danger of imminent zombie attack. Small talk had to wait.

"I think I'll be all right," Tim said, sounding far calmer than he was feeling. He glanced around the store again and...oh, perfect. The utility belts they had were bigger and bulkier than he'd have preferred, but he'd make due. At least they'd hold things and he wouldn't have to carry a bunch of crap. The stuff he'd gotten from the weird doctor earlier would fit in one of the pouches. He could surely find something to use as projectiles, as well, if he just looked around for a minute.

"Nice night, isn't it?" he asked, wryly, moving toward the other shelf to grab one of the belts.

The young man was doing a good job of acting calm. It didn't seem like it was from a state of shock, either. Interesting. "Just don't get bitten, if you do, you'll wind up like them. The 'fate worse than death' so to speak," Wesker advised. There were zombies in the store, he could hear them, but he could also hear other patients fighting them.

He kept a wary eye out for the zombies, and the fellow patients that were fighting them. This was no time to let his guard down and get complacent. Wesker had survived as long as he had because he did neither of those things. This store really wasn't the best place to defend. He would need to find someplace better.

Tim's mouth twitched, but he didn't actually smile. So these guys were playing for keeps, huh? Wonderful. Because his day had been going so well up to now, too.

"Sounds like fun, but I think I'll pass," he said, strapping the belt on. He looked up at the blond man again, warily. He wondered if the guy had an eye condition or something, always wearing sunglasses. Could he even see anything? Weird. Either way, though, he looked like he knew what he was doing. Maybe sticking with him for a little bit wouldn't be too bad. Tim could work fine alone, but he didn't mind teamwork. He wasn't sure if the man would agree, but there was only one way to find out.

"So. You're some kind of zombie expert or something? You got a game plan?"

Wesker couldn't help but grin slightly. He was experiencing a bit of nostalgia, and while a zombie epidemic might have been extremely threatening to the rest of the population, Wesker could only mentally laugh at this latest hoop that Dr. Landel was making them jump through.

"I am an expert on many things," Wesker said. "In normal circumstances, the game plan would be to leave the town. While there will no doubt be zombies in the surrounding forests and woods they frequently linger around the areas they turned unless given incentive to leave." Although it might have been different for the zombies that had crawled up out of the ground.

"I am confident that in the morning all will be back to normal. Well, relative normal," Wesker paused, and turned to swing the sledgehammer in a strong, deadly arc to the face of a zombie that came around the corner and reached out for him. The skull shattered quite easily, and the body collapsed.

"That being the case, escape is not in my immediate plans. In most circumstances like this I would advise against it, but it seems the best course of action tonight would be to find a place to defend," At least until sun rise, at which point circumstances would either change or new plans could be made. Since he would be defending a location, and not making an escape, an extra pair of well-armed hands would be useful. Wesker would let the young man ask about it, though, rather than simply offer to let him come along.

Tim raised an eyebrow at the look on the man's face. He spoke as if he'd definitely lived through the zombie apocalypse or something, though, so Tim figured it was fine to trust him for the time being.

He felt the floorboards move under him and looked down. A hand was pushing its way through them, though it wasn't having an easy job. Lucky them.

"What the hell, where are these coming from? Are we over a graveyard and no one told us?" he asked, though the question was mostly rhetorical. He brought the curtain rod down on the zombie's hand a few times, effectively smashing it. It was still pushing at the boards, though.

"All right, what kind of building do you have in mind? We'll probably have an easier time getting to somewhere close by, instead of far away. I mean, maybe if we had a car or something..."

He was musing out loud, really, but that was just part of what he did.

"Guess I should ask if you mind me tagging along. Promise I don't need a babysitter."

[From here]

Alfred whacked one last zombie aside with his rolling pin, before pushing open the door to the hardware store and slipping inside. He made sure to close the door firmly behind himself, crushing some zombie fingers in the process. He moved through the store, rolling pin held ready to swing, his canvas sack, and its contents, firmly in place on his back.

He heard voices further back in the store, and the sounds of something hitting the floor pretty hard, so he moved towards them cautiously. Just because the zombies where move obvious didn't mean that there weren't people intent on causing harm as well. Or rather, living people. Either way, it never hurt to be cautious. He glanced over his shoulder often enough that it looked as though he might have some sort of nervous tick, but it wouldn't do to have one of those creatures attack him again.

Alfred rounded the corner to see Timothy crushing the hand of a zombie with a curtain rod. There was another man with him. He was taller, and wearing a pair of sunglasses. Well that was certainly interesting. He approached them, a little less concerned about something attacking him from behind.

"Master Timothy. Are you all right?" Alfred asked as he approached the pair. It was a rather loaded question, considering the state Timothy had been in earlier, but Alfred was more concerned with how the boy had been handling the zombie outbreak.

"Good evening, sir." Alfred addressed the other man with a nod, not wishing to appear rude, although he still kept an eye on Tim.

Wesker had no intention of discussing the nature of the zombies that rose out of the ground. They did defy logic, just as much as the transformation that accompanied the setting of the sun. "The Grocery store had a second floor, I believe," Although Wesker hadn't been in there himself except to check the bulletin board, if he recalled, it was a Doctor's office. "It's on this street, though we will have to fight our way over there."

That would give him a chance to do some investigating if they managed to appropriately secure the building. The approach of an old man, and his manner of addressing the younger man were quite unusual. Master Timothy. Worth noting, that indicated that Tim was from a well-off family. That made his calm in this situation more odd. People didn't keep their calm like this without training and practice, and while the heir of a rich family would need to know how to keep his cool, Wesker doubted it such training would extend to zombies or similar situations in most cases.

"Good evening," Wesker responded, with practiced politeness.

Tim wasn't sure how to feel about Alfred's presence here. Of course, he knew that the man was in town, but seeing him right here and now instead of barricaded up somewhere safe...well. There wasn't anything he could do about that now.

Alfred would be safe with them, and it wasn't as if the man couldn't defend himself at all. If there was anyone over sixty that could survive a zombie apocalypse, it was Alfred Pennyworth. Tim would bet money on that. He wasn't sure he liked Alfred just calling him Tim, though. Luckily, he hadn't given his name to the blond man yet, so he could just use Tim and it was fine. But he'd given another name to Raphael, and probably would to anyone that asked. He'd mention it to Alfred later, though. For now, they had zombies to deal with.

"We know how to fight," Tim said. "We'll get there."

He saw a pack of rubberbands on a nearby shelf and grabbed them, figuring if nothing else, they could be used to fire projectiles.

"I don't know much about zombies from practical application, but years of pop culture says that if you shoot them in the head, they go down. Or if you decapitate them. We don't have any guns, though. Not sure I want to get close enough to try this decapitating thing." He looked up at Wesker. "You're the expert, right? Recommend something."

Alfred raised an eyebrow at Timothy's assessment of the situation. Apparently the man that he was with had fought zombies before. While this was noteworthy, and slightly interesting, it wasn't quite shocking. After all, there were plenty of events that had occurred in Alfred's life that he was certain would get him locked in a mental institute, were he to speak of them to an outside party. Unfortunately, he couldn't recall Batman ever creating a scenario on "What to do in the Case of a Zombie Infestation". He decided that this stranger would have to be trusted for now. There weren't a whole lot of options available.

"I'm afraid that any knowledge of the undead that I possess is entirely theoretical, as I've not been presented with the opportunity to put it into practice until now. However," he turned to Wesker, "if you are, indeed, a zombie expert, perhaps you can tell me if I'm carrying anything that might be particularly effective? I did manage to bring cayenne and black pepper with me. I'm not certain of their effects on the undead, but the living certainly aren't over fond of having a dusting of either thrown into their faces. I have a few different knives and some small sacks of flour. What, sir, would you recommend as our course of immediate action? If there is someplace with less distraction where we might continue to discuss this, perhaps that would be best." He raised an eyebrow pointedly at the renewed efforts of a zombie trying to make its way out of the ground near Timothy's feet.

"Severe cranial damage is indeed the best and most effective way to stop a zombie. Burning them is also effective, so long as you can stay away from it until the fire has a chance to cause enough tissue damage to render it immobile while it burns to death," Wesker paused to look at the old man, his expression very unreadable. "Throwing something in a zombie's face isn't going to do anything. I would recommend the knife, but it would be better to just avoid getting that close. They tend to be quite contagious, and the last thing we need is an outbreak among the patient population."

He wasn't sure about how long an infection from these zombies would spread, if they were in fact infectious, but it was entirely possible that an infection tonight could cause problems within the next few days or nights. "I think it's time we left," Wesker said when several zombies came around a corner and started coming up behind Tim.

Wesker turned briskly and went for a window. A little broken glass wasn't going to hurt him. He dove through a window and went into a roll. [Going here]

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