WHO: Gabriel and Laney WHAT: Gabe is pretty sure he's screwed. WHEN: Backdated to 11/17, just before sunset. WHERE: A back alley in Westchester. RATING: Medium/high for zombie gore. STATUS: In progress!
Okay. This wasn't good. What had started as a normal bait-away mission while a group of reckless immune folks had raided a supermarket in Westchester. It was about time, as far as Gabriel was concerned, that they went outside the city to do some raiding. However, what he hadn't taken into account was the fact that there would be so many of them. He should have. In the city, things were slightly more controlled. The immune, folks like Gabe and the army folks (as assholish as they were, anyway) did their best to keep a cap on things, even if it just seemed like a constant battle sometimes.
Maybe it was because of the fact that he was so used to that "security" that when he got out of the city, into Westchester, the sheer volume of infected there was so surprising. He wasn't unarmed. He had his shotgun that the army dude had given to him and a knife, even though he was relatively shitty at knife defense, but running the streets from this many flesh-eaters was not something Gabe ever really wanted to do.
It wasn't long before he found out exactly how fast a runner could actually be. He was faster than most of them. He'd outrun a group with little trouble before. But this one? He wasn't sure if people in Westchester had some kind of unknown nutrient in their flesh or something else but they were just… faster. And it didn't help that he didn't know the roads like he knew the ones back in the city. The other bait girl helping him out had already dashed down a side road, and only three of the group had followed. Fortunately, the group was dwindling because shamblers couldn't keep up, but these few runners? Yeah, Gabe was worried about them. He reached to his belt for his shotgun and took aim, firing at one of them and knocking it back into the others, slowing their approach just enough for him to put a little distance between them.
He made a quick dash into a nearby alley and realized quickly that he should have checked first, because not only was it a dead end, but about halfway through? He tripped in a pothole and fell, sending his shotgun skittering just past an arms length away. He may have fooled them, but they were approaching fast.
As if on cue, one of them rounded the corner and Gabriel reached down for his shotgun as he pulled himself to his feet, backing willingly into the wall so that nothing could sneak up behind him.