The Storm

[Catrux]

Finally the cans were filled with gas. Loki placed them in the back of the truck before returning to a gas pump. He heard the Bug honking, signaling it was about time to leave. Smiling, Loki picked up the pump and began spraying down the entire place with gasoline. "Lets get going! Hurry up!" He had already decided he would be the last one to get in, he needed to make sure they wouldn't be followed.

After thoroughly drenching the place with gas, Loki unhooked as many other pumps as he could. The gas station was going to go up in flames, hopefully taking all those zombies with it. His heart began beating faster as the droaning got closer, if every one didn't hurry up the zombies might get to him. Right now all that Loki could do to protect himself was to engage the Zombies in melee combat, somthing that could prove deadly for him.

Once every one would get in the vehicles, Loki would make a mad dash for the truck and signal for them to leave. After they would be far enough away, Loki would take his shot gun and shoot toward one of the gas pumps, causing the place to explode. He just had to hope that every one would hurry up so he didn't become a meal.

[dagodevas]

Patrick sat in awe of the convulsing man. "Was he epileptic to begin with?" There was no way of knowing what was going on so far as Patrick knew. No one was a neurologist and it's not like they had any imaging device to look at his brain activity. Patrick shook off the feeling he was getting and started manipulating his supplies. He cut the phone charger and attached both ends of the cord to a paper clip folded into it. He popped open the watch and looked for the 555 inside of it. Taking a Tic-Tac case from out of his pocket he filled it with a solution of vodka and a small sampling of gasoline. Cutting off the top of a cigarette he put some of his shoelace into the tobacco and dropped his cut into the case. The tobacco began soaking up the combustibles immediately.
"Can I plug this in?" He looked at the driver holding up the male end of the spliced charger.

[Ninjz]

Derek leaped out of the Truck with the others, and began to lay down Suppressing fire. He watched as the man in the black car wiped out a few zombies, and grinned. His grin rapidly faded when the man popped out and began to seizure on the ground. He rushed over to help, when he saw Loki doing his 'secret plan'. Fool, If he's not careful we'll all be killed.

Deciding the seizure man was the one more in dire need Derek pulled out his small medical kit, a callback to the time he had spent in the military, becoming a medic in hopes of seeing action. He had gotten some basic training and was competent in fixing up basic wounds. That training hadn't been used in a few years, and really wouldn't help this man at all.

However one of his recent grad students had been a brilliant young man with a disease involving a swollen brain. This had added to his intelligence, yet led to a few complications, such as seizures. Once he had fallen ill during a long work session. He tended to work too much, almost as much as Derek himself, and had forgotten to take one of his meds that day. Derek had called the paramedics quick enough that no damage had been done, and the young man was back to work in no time.

After this experience Derek had decided to research forms of epilepsy and seizures, in his spare time. At the time he had placed medications specific to seizures in his field bag.
He rushed over to the man lying on the truck bed, kneeling next to him he checked his temperature. He then called out to the driver of the bug,

[glow=black,2,300]"Hey! ummm... Lady... Has this man had any history of seizures.?"[/glow]
Keeping an eye on the man, Derek stayed in sight until she saw him. He hoped the response was yes, because she seemed to be his friend, and if this was the first symptom of the infection he would have to do the dirty part. Well, what had to be done...

[foxx]

With Harvey safely tucked away in the bed of the truck, Foxx was feeling a little lost. By now supplies had been gathered and the vehicles filled for the dangerous journey ahead. The undead horde swarmed around them on all sides, bloodied, groaning and persistent as ever in their need to feed. The constant noise and the nasty stench that hung over the crowd clouded her mind and curdled her stomach. She held no weapon to defend herself and, had she, had no working knowledge of guns anyways. She wasn’t even sure if she was still signed up to drive the truck. Hovering by the open driver’s side door, the reality of the situation was catching up with her again. As hard as she’d struggled to survive thus far, it was startling to know that her survival mattered mostly and probably only to her. No family fretted over her whereabouts. Old friends had not frantically searched the fleeing masses for her face. The party she traveled with now may miss the driver of the truck or the use of someone else to fend off the enemy, but none knew her well enough to mourn the loss of her life long. For the first time in a long time tears stung her eyes. Mortified, her cheeks heated with embarrassment. Using the back of the sleeve of the borrowed shirt, she swiped them away. The fresh scent of dryer sheets, a luxury those living on the street lacked, greeted her in the cloth and for whatever reason curbed the oncoming hysteria. Crying was a useless pastime in most situations and this was no exception. If she was feeling a little alone, well, it wasn’t the first time. Foxx waited for the official word to move out, replying without turning around when Patrick asked his question.

"Oh. I guess so."

[† The Jaxness †]

"Aww, how cute.. Vanman. Sounds like something out of a bad movie."

She was usually more quiet then rude, but after what this guy had just put her through, she was letting herself get away with a couple rude remarks. After all, he wasnt the one who was painted with zombie guts. After several more of his jerks and turns on the steering wheel, he mentioned a first aid kit in the back of the van. Since she had 'served her country', she was taught in the finest ways of first aid, but she never liked resorting down to it. Aiding a wound meant admitting to an injury. Admitting to an injury meant showing weakness. She's be damned if she'd show any type of weakness to some loon she'd just met. But after the thought of getting the infection that seemed to be slowing eating the world away, she took a bit out of her pride and climbed in the back.

Trying to keep as much weight off of her leg as possible, she stumbled to sit on the waterbed in front of the dresser and pull out the first aid kit. She grabbed a bottle of alcohol, paper towel, needle, and thread before shutting the box and replacing it under the dresser. Setting her items on the edge of the bed, she grabbed onto the tears in her pants surrounding the wound, and tore them to expose the wound better. Pouring on the alcohol, she used the paper towel to wipe up whatever dripped off. Ingoring the minor sting, she put the now half-empty bottle of alcohol down and proceded to thread the needle. Knotting it off, she began to stitch her 2 inch long gash, carefully placing each one the same length apart. After pulling the threat tight, she tied a knot and discarded the excess thread. Now bringing her sights up, she noticed the seemingly expensive decor of the van. Plasma tv, waterbed, carpet. Who the hell would go through so much trouble for a van? Someone without a life. Not all thoughts could be nice, now could they? Tossing the now bloody needle onto the floor, she got up off the bed to crawl back into the front seat to stare at the deserted road ahead.

Putting her foot up against the dashboard, she propped her rifle back against her knee to prevent it from sliding all over the place as they continued to be under 'Vanman's' bad driving. She was hoping for a quiet ride. Leaning her head back and catching some z's. She'd been stuck on that rooftop for 2 days, and she hadnt let herself sleep out of fear that those damn zombies could climb walls. But to no avail, the psycho kept on running his trap, talking about some radio signal and what not. Well, if there had been other survivors, wouldnt hurt to see what use they could be.

"Alright, onwards to the gas station. Besides, the world would be fucked if it was up to us to re-populate this damn place."

Putting her head back once again to the headrest, she closed her eyes and half listened to him talk about how much he enjoyed running the undead over. Comparing them to jell-o.... Well, some people are just easily amused, I guess. With a short sigh, she waited for whatever else was gonna come out of this guys mouth.

[Leila Darkmoon]

*Leila coughed suddenly, her nostrils twitching at the horrid stench that was wafting through the mist towards her. The few zombie parts that were scattered around the Gas Station parking lot were now starting to hiss as the raindrops splattered against the carcases, letting off a toxic gas that glowed a light green against the grey mist of falling rain. If they were going to get out of here in one piece, it had to be now. Knocking on the roof of the bug to let Casey know it was time to go, Leila turned and looked for Foxx. Finding her exactly where she wanted to, Leila offered the girl what she hoped to be a somewhat confident smile, before she yelled out. ~Time to get the show on the road, folks!~.

Pulling open the door of the bug, Leila settled herself back behind the wheel, readjusting the seat slightly so that she would have more room to stretch her legs out. She didn’t know how far away the Tower was going to be, all she did know was that her chances of getting out and stretching her legs between here and there were somewhat limited, hence the sudden desire for more leg space. As Casey slid into the seat beside her, she watched him out of the corner of her eye as she pulled the door shut and strapped herself in. Glancing at the large rifle he now aimed out the window, Leila felt a faint sense of hope as he popped off another two shots, causing at least four zombies to fall in their tracks.

The ignition turned easily and she smiled into the rearview mirror as she shifted into gear.

~There ya go old girl.. that’s a good start… ~ she caressed the bugs steering wheel as she whispered to the car. ~I’ll be good to you and you be good to me… just get us there in one piece.. please..~ trailing off, she blushed in embarrassment as she realised Casey was looking at her strangely.

Shrugging her shoulders, she ran a hand through her blonde mess of shaggy locks before shifting into gear. ~Here we go..~ she muttered as she pulled away from the pump. Glancing in the rearview mirror, Leila hoped to see the truck directly behind her as she and Casey drove out towards the highway.*

[burn4me]

"Redwolf, this is Cryptkeeper, we are over the objective."

The roar of the helicopter's blades drowned out most of the noise inside of the passanger bay. But through the opening, the blades sounded more like swords cutting the thin air as they made the full rotation. The inside of the bird jerked violently.

"Sargeant, where do you want this thing landed?" The pilot asked, turning his head back from the cockpit to confirm the location.

"Keep going, I'll let you know where we should land," he calmy responded to the pilot, ensuring that him and his men would drop into the correct hot zone.

Sargeant Jason Rhodes of the United States Marine Corps, out handling a civil disturbance that should have been passed down to the army. He was still wondering why they would have called the Marines in such a small case as a mere riot. He peered out of the open side of the helicopter and glanced down. The simple rain had turned into a torrential downpour, and nearly fogged the helo's spotlights that beamed down towards the ground. He sighed to himself as he lifted his hand back up to his ear.

"Redwolf, this is Cryptkeeper, be advised that we--" He stopped in mid-sentence and blinked a few times before rubbing his eyes. "Standby Redwolf."

He leaned over and poked one of his three men that was attached to his fire squad. "Smith, look down there and tell me what you see."

The man obeyed and leaned forward, peering over the ledge of the bird to try and get a better eye. He leaned back slowly and gave Jason a look of sheer horror. His face nearly went pale and sweat beaded his forehead.

Jason turned his head back towards the conjested streets of people. Fires ignited from random cars and the people seemed to move with no type of urgency. He unpacked his binoculars and raised them to his eyes, but nearly dropped them at the sight that flashed through his lenses. He watched as a woman stood atop a car, waving at the helicopter franically, screaming out to the tops of her lungs. Jason had spent years training for Iraqi operations and was taught how to read lips without hearing the voice. She was screaming help.

Jason started to tell the pilot to get closer, but caught himself as the woman was overwhelmed by others, who seemed to bite into her flesh, squirting blood on themselves and everyone around them. Three more joined in and soon the woman was buried. He pushed the zoom button and noticed that these were not humans, an assessment he had figured out when he watched them begin eating a woman, but their white eyes, which held no pupils, confirmed the theory. The rotten flash and mass amounts of blood covering each individual would have been a dead give away as well.

"What the fuck?" He blurted, giving another one of his teammates a bilwildered stare.

He lifted his hand back to his ear, "Redwolf, this is Cryptkeeper, we have eyes on. Is there something about this mission you failed to inform us about?"

He peered back out into the rain filled air, trying to catch another glimpse of the pure mayhem unfolding below him. It still struck him odd as to why they had decided to send a fire team of Marines instead of a large group of soldiers, then again, people were eating each other.

He reached down and pulled his .9 millimeter berretta from its drop holster attached to the side of his left leg and inserted a full clip. He racked the pistol back, loading it before he dropped the gun back into the holster. He then loaded his M4 Rifle, pulling the charging handle back as a 5.56 millimeter round bedded itself in the chamber.

He gave his men another glance. "I dont know whats going on down there, but people are fucking eating each other, something regiment failed to inform us about." His men responded silently, something he expected since they were no older than a few months in the fleet. Each of them had minimal training, and neither of them had the type of training for this type of mission, not even Jason.

"Redwolf! This is Crpytkeeper! Come in over!!"

"Crpytkeeper, this is Redwolf, be advised, your mission is to secure landing zone A until reinforcements arrive. Do not allow any living thing to cross that area. Backup is enroute. ETA 30 mike's"

"Shit," he said giving another quick glance out of the helicopter's side opening. The sight was not good, thirty minutes was pressing him and his men for a small window of time, considering that there were only four of them.

"Sargeant!" Cried one of his men, tears welling in his eyes. "I can't go down there! I have a wife! Kids!"

Jason gritted his teeth and gave the newest member a glare. "You signed the fucking contract! Gear up! We jump in 5."

He looked down to make sure his flak jacket was fastened on tightly, and all his extra magazines were in the proper pouches, then he ensured he had the right assortment of grenades to follow up. He and the rest of his squad were wearing black digital camoflauged uniforms, only Marines wore these uniforms.

The two men across from him stood first and threw the cable down on the ground. They would be the first to jump. Jason peered out again and noticed the rain had died down considerably in this area, something he was grateful of for the time being. The bird suddenly jerked again sending one of his men barreling over the side of the helo's opening. He screamed out in suprize until he landed back first on the pavement below. It was at least a 25 foot drop.

"Dammit!" Jason roared, pushing the next guy out. "Go go go."

The three remaining Marines gently landed on the ground after sliding down the cable and immediatly set up a 360 degree security snap around the injured man, who Jason saw was still breathing. He bent down and used his two fingers to check a pulse. He had one.

"Jaybird, man down. I need you to send a crane down ASAP." He lowered his hand from his ear and jerked his head sideways at a distant groan. That was not his Marine!

His body reacted before his mind did as he sent a three round burst of bullets eating into one of the zombie's head, dropping it instantly. "Right right!!" The other three Marines set up and opened fire, mowing down a large line of the undead humanoids that approached them in a lazy manner.

Not good.

His concentration was broken almost immedietly when the flash of car lights beamed behind them. He now had a raging wave of undead in front of him, and a car speeding up from behind him. His options became limited, so he decided to handle the situation at hand. Surely whoever was driving would notice the giant wave of zombies and either stop to help, or barrel straight into the manifested crowds of decayed beings.

His men continued to open random shots, spraying the crowd with small bursts of bullets, while Jason randomly checked the fallen Marine's pulse, ensuring he was still alive.

"Redwolf, this is Cryptkeeper, standby for a medevac 9 line!!"

[Ninjz]

"Thanks" Derek muttered, as Leila shut herself up in the bug. He decided that if the guy was going to be a zombie at some point, he might as well make him comfortable. Taking out a hypodermic needle he found a vein on Harvey's arm. Pumping the amber liquid into the man's bloodstream, Derek saw him relax a bit. Derek stashed the needle in a metal case, and wrote "Harvey" with a permanent marker. Medical supplies would be hard to come by, and sharing needles with yourself isn't that bad. with the patient safe, and the others wrapping things up, he pulled out his Desert eagle and fired off a few rounds, expertly placing small bullets into the mushy mass that was the zombies' brains. "Eventually these things are going to be gone, and then I can get back to work." he said, with a sigh.

[The Joshness ™]

The Van was hauling some serious ass down the abandoned highway that was littered with an assortment of disabled and destroyed vehicles. Vanman was most definitely a master driver, just by the way he was able to maneuver the goliath of a van to weave in and out of the dead traffic with such precision and no signs of unwilling “Damn right it would, nothing like a planet filled with reckless driving-zombie smashing-hood riding-fearless-druggy-wacko’s. Am I right?” He laughed, but only for a second because immediately after stating that a fat woman, well, a fat ZOMBIE woman waddles out from behind a turned over Buick into the path of the Van. These incident could only be described as an explosion of puss and vomit. Blistering chunks of fat and organs had erupted on the front of Vanmans ride, caking the entire thing nearly in decayed fat. She had to weigh damn near 300 pounds and more than definitely caved in the protective metal bars over the grill if it didn’t completely remove the bumper. “HOLY FUCKING MOTHER DAMN” Rotten chunky blood splattered all over the windshield and they had a very unpleasant and violent whiplash inducing jerk forward. Vanman began to swerve about and slow down rapidly. “Did you SEE That?!” He takes a deep breath, looking to her, and twists a knob on the steering column initiating the windshield wipers which does a horrible job of removing the blood but effectively removes the chunks of death. After a second it mostly removes a positive margin of the blood and what did they see? The fat lady. Well, what was left of her, she is mostly just a skeleton from the shoulders down with stringy portions of flesh attached and she looked -PISSED-. Vanman turns to look Harley “Slimfast?” Slamming it into reverse really fast and jerking her off the hood he doesn’t waste any time before putting it in drive and running over whatever was left of the fat lady now.

In no time at all he was back up to speed and being very cautious as to what was in the road ahead of him “ So Harley, you often jump of vans like tha-DAMNIT!” The entire van just takes a rapid right turn sending all the un-strapped contents inside of it to hurl themselves to the left while the van slid across the partially damp asphalt on its screaming tires. The van had barely missed the collection of yellow pylons protecting the onramp from speeding wacko’s and quickly sped down to a safer speed “Almost missed my exit.” Smiling evil like Vanman stops at the base of the onramp, the gas station not far from here. In fact, its partially viewable from the onramp and you can see the collection of vehicles outside of it. He pulls up the mic to his mouth “Trucky, do you copy? This is Vanman, I’m within sights of the gas station and needing some go-juice, over.” Vanman isn’t necessarily scared of finding survivors, not at all. What he -doesn’t- want to do is run across a band of unfortunate crazee’s that decide to rape and pillage him.

[Abira]

The gas station had become a bustling center of activity – and Abira felt as though she was watching the goings-on through a filmy piece of glass. Leila and the others had taken the seizing man (once a kamikaze godsend) into the back of a truck, where another, presumably medically-experienced, individual was looking after him. Loki continued to square up his plan for…well, Abira didn’t quite know what it was that he planned to do, but a niggling suspicion led her to believe it involved explosives. A lot of explosives. Not wanting to come between a man and his combustibles, she simply watched with glistening eyes, the black irises indistinguishable from the pupils that contracted at the first sign of flame. Rubbing the backs of her arms, she sidled closer and cocked her head.

“Who am I to ride with, then? You promised not to leave me behind…”

A half-smile played at the corners of her lips; never one completely given to somberness and sobriety, Abira seemed perpetually sarcastic and full of wit…and though she liked to joke about the dire situation she’d recently found herself in, the prospect of being left behind (again) chilled her to the marrow of her bones. Tugging irritably at the secondhand fatigues that were in danger of slipping down her hips, she tallied silently the supplies that her fellow survivors had “borrowed” from the gas station. The water was priceless, of course, as was the food and fuel…and as long as no one felt the need to glut or gag, there was a chance for survival.

A chance that Abira figured she would take with this rag-tag group of travelers. They were her saviors, albeit strange ones, and she was in debt to them…whether they realized it or not. Watching with a wary eye the approaching mass of undead, Abira began shifting her weight from foot to foot—anxious to know who’d be carting her out of the nightmarish standoff, and interested in the explosives both Loki and now Patrick were constructing.

[Talisen Phoenix]

Harvey slowly began to wake up, he could tell he was moving… lying. His last memory was of Leila at gun world, he waved goodbye knowing he would never see her again… but he had, hadn't he?

He recalled a tangle of blonde hair, brushing softly against his face. Harvey opened his eyes; his glasses were askew on his face and broken. He peered out through the shattered glass. He tried to lift a hand to pull of his glasses and try to clean the dried blood away, but his limps simply wouldn't do what they were told, he felt an incredible pressure in his joints and they ached terribly, his head felt heavy and huge, like it had grown three times its original size. Harvey feebly turned his head, he was in the back of a truck, that much he knew, but he couldn't see who was driving, and it was rather dark in the back too and with his glasses shattered it was nearly impossible to see around him. What happened to me? Was all Harvey could manage, how did he go from Gun world to the back of this truck, maybe he was kidnapped and drugged… no that didn't make sense, memories began to flood back to him slowly and painfully, the zombies had attacked gunworld, their were too many of them…

"I think I need a doctor…"

Harvey managed to gurgle out feebly

"Leila!?"

"LEILA!?"

[Ninjz]

Derek immediately tensed up at the motions of his would be patient. He saw the lethargic attempts to fix his glasses, and Derek decided that he could be safe, although he did unholster his Eagle. Kneeling odwn next to the man, he reached out and slid his glasses off of his face, setting them in his bag so that he could try to repair them.
"Shh shh," he told Harvey,"Leila is in her bug, were going to a safe place. I've given you a sedative, don't fight it, relax and sleep. Your safe."
This side of Derek, the tender, doctor like side, was rarely seen. He was loath to reveal it to those around him, as being taken seriously as a scientist was hard when your so young, not to mention having a strong military background. He quickly wiped the look of care off of his face, just in case one of the others walked in. He heard the woman from the gas station calling out jokingly, and, seeing as there was no room in Leila's bug, he yelled to her
"Hey lady, cmon and get in the truck. I'm Derek by the way,"

[† The Jaxness †]

As he mumbled on and on, she put her feet to rest on the dashboard as she made herself more comfortable. Propping her rifle against her left leg, so as not to send it flying out the door if it got ripped off in result of this wacko's bad driving, she folded her hands on top of her head and kept her eyes closed, hoping he also would fall into silence. No luck.

"HOLY FUCKING MOTHER DAMN, did you SEE that?!"

She opened one lid not on account of his words, but the harsh BAM against the front of the van made her look. Well, they DID kinda look like jell-o... atleast when this damn van got ahold of em. The windshield wipers were doing a poor job of clearing the visability, but it wasnt as it his driving could get any worse. She couldnt help but smirk at his corny jokes. Hell, it was better then the moaning the zombies offered. After seeing the gas station come into view, she replaced her feet onto the floor and picked up her rifle with her left hand, getting ready for whatever may be coming, zombies and survivors alike.

[Catrux]

Loki's mind kicked into overdrive as his adrenaline began flowing freely in his blood. Everything now came down to positioning, much like the last few minutes of a football game. With probably a bit more commanding tone than he usually used, Loki replied to Abira's question regarding where she is to ride. "Back of the truck, you're riding with me, hurry up." Quickly, Loki surveyed his surroundings, and saw exactly what he had hoped. Everyone was ready to go, as soon as Abira would climb into the truck. With all of the patience he could muster, Loki watched as the girl began climbing into the truck. The Zombies were creeping ever closer, their ungodly moaning growing louder. Finally the girl got in the truck and all of Loki's football training became vital for his survival.

Dropping the still pumping gas nozzle, Loki turned sprinting toward the next pump, dislodging it as well letting it spill forth more gasoline. Loki repeated this for every pump causing a wave of gas to usher out and drench the surrounding area. As he ran from pump to pump he put some distance between him and the zombie hoard. Loki needed all of the space possible for the next part of his plan. Now sprinting, Loki yelled "Drive Damn it!" It took a moment for the truck to begin moving, and even then it started out slowly enough for Loki to dive into the back.

Throwing his body up, Loki spun himself around and drew his shotgun. With a quick one handed pump, Loki leveled the gun at one of the pumps that was still spewing forth gasoline. Still one handed, Loki fired off a single shot. The shot instantly ignited the gasoline, and set off a chain reaction that would in moments lead to a spectacular finish. The flames reached the gas pumps nearly simultaneously, and with the pressure building up in the tanks, a fiery explosion rocked outwards slamming Loki against the cab wall of the truck. After hitting the wall, Loki dropped ending up with his limbs twisted in awkward positions and his head came to rest on Abira's lap. Due to the sturdiness of the truck and the way everyone else was positioned, Loki would be the only one thrown or even effected in much of a way by the explosion.

Groaning from the pain his body was now experiencing, Loki opened his eyes and laughed a bit as he took notice of his position. Loki looked up at Abira and offered a smile as if to apologize for the awkward position they now found themselves in. Trying to shift his body so that he could rise and reposition himself, all he could manage to do was free his limbs. Laughing he looked up again and said "It looks like I'm a bit stuck for the time being." After he finished speaking, he was stricken by a coughing fit, due to the amount of fumes he inhaled.

After he finished coughing, Loki resumed laughing and said "Well boys, I think this means I win the days kill count."

[Leila Darkmoon]

*Leila’s lips twitched into a nervous smile as her backward glance was rewarded with the sight of the truck pulling out from the pumps and falling into line behind the bug. She shifted in her seat slightly and tightened her grip on the steering wheel as she glanced over at Casey.

~I guess I'll just keep on going down the highway until we either hear another broadcast or find this damn tower, huh?~

Any answer he might have had for her was lost in the deafening explosion that rocked behind her, and another glance in the rear view mirror revealed the truck now silhouetted against the orange fireball that had once been the Gas Station. As she watched, the amber flames danced and grew, a deadly inferno for the zombies trapped within the blaze’s perimeter.

~Impressive..~ she muttered as her violet eyes trailed back to the road in front of her. It was only now that she saw the van coming straight toward them. Swerving just in time, she managed to steer the bug onto the opposite side of the road so that she could slow down and approach the van from beside it though still coming from the other direction. Breaking slowly, then with more force upon the pedal, Leila shifted down in gears as she glanced back at the truck behind her, almost out of reflex. She didn’t know who was inside the van, but the fact that a van was being driven on the off ramp told her that there were more survivors inside, and that they probably needed the gas from the station that she and her motley crew had just blown up. Winding down the bugs window, and hoping that an occupant of the van would do the same if necessary she called out ~Follow us!~ before speeding up and driving past the van with the truck behind her.

Although she glanced in the rear view mirror, the trucks bulk hid the van from view and she could only hope that the driver of the van had heard her message and had in fact turned around to do as she had instructed. Winding the window up again to protect her against the falling rain outside, Leila watched the blades of her wipers scrape across the screen, almost zoning out completely before she snapped her attention back to the pressing matter at hand. Glancing over at Casey, she frowned slightly, somewhat perturbed by his perpetual silence. Trying to make conversation, she proceeded to prattle on incessantly for a few minutes before she finally turned back onto the highway and continued heading towards where she thought the tower should be. After a few more minutes of Caseys silence, Leila sighed loudly before flicking her CD player on. The thought of listening to the radio for another broadcast did not even enter her head as she was now craving a musical release. Although she only glanced downwards for a moment to select the right CD from her case, it was enough time for a motorcycle to appear in front of her. Swerving slightly, she braked just in time as the bike cut her off in a burst of speed and rubber and Leila wished the driver a safe travel as she watched the bike disappear down the highway before her. Letting out another long sigh she booted up her CD and flicked to number 12. Despite the situation at hand, she could not resist the grin that creased her lips as her ears tingled from the first strains of “Down on Me” as it began to crank through the back speakers of the bug. As Janis Joplins husky voice filled the cars interior, Leila allowed the old familiar magic to wash over her, instantly calming her jangled nerves. The bug ate up the highway as “Maybe Baby,” “Me and Bobby McGee” and “Summertime” worked their mojo, but it was halfway through “Piece of my Heart” when the first view of the crumbling wall of the border came into view.

Sitting up straighter in her seat, Leila flicked the CD off as her eyes travelled along the wall, searching for the Tower. As her eyes finally fell upon the structure, she breathed ~We’re here..~ as she looked for the off ramp off the highway and onto the old border gateway. It was now that she noticed it had stopped raining, though she could not be sure for how long it had been stopped or for how long it would be. Glancing back at the truck, she smiled at the mirror although the driver had no chance of seeing, and hoped the van was behind the truck. Judging by the other vehicles scattered around the outside of the tower, Leila guessed that other people had already arrived. Pulling the bug in close enough to the building for protection, but far enough away to be able to make a fast exit should the need arrive, Leila parked the bug behind the Tower and pulled the key from the ignition. Offering Casey a nervous smile, Leila murmered ~Now what?~ as she slid out of the drivers seat, stretching her aching limbs as she walked over to where the truck was pulling up behind the bug. *