Olivia Jensen is on her way to ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ғᴀsᴛ (sprinted) wrote in remains_rpg, @ 2015-10-11 21:16:00 |
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The sun was still two hours away from even starting to set, but it felt like a long day to Babs. It was a simple outing, it didn’t even require carrying anything for the two women. Go to the edge of town, to where Babs dropped a man named Gabriel Ryan off, and see if he was a live. If he was, bring him back to LBJ, and if he was dead… well. That was why Babs had Brian’s old rifle and plenty of ammo on her. Babs’ ambulance, their ride for the day, they’d driven near the edge of town was a block away, unlocked, with the keys in Olivia’s pockets. Babs wanted the kid to have them, she wanted Olivia to be able to run back and get to the supplies they’d already picked up for the list Olivia had gotten handed. Babs had been very quiet during the first leg of the trip, just watching Olivia’s back and helping her carry supplies back to the bus. It was only now that they were hoofing it, looking for signs of a man named Gabe Ryan that she spoke. “He’s a scientist. Engineer. So if you hear any equipment, that could be him trying to set something up.” Kaleo loped next to Babs, his tongue hanging out as he slobbered on Bab’s knee, and then turned to try and get a pet from Olivia. As far as he was concerned, today had been great- he’d spent all day in the car getting pet by the two women, and Babs had even stopped them at an abandoned PetCo and grabbed a giant bag of fancy, expensive food and some treats. His breath smelled like rawhide. "Okay. Got it." Olivia was a good listener, she thought; besides, she'd been around Erik's equipment before, so she knew well enough what it sounded like even if 'equipment' was kind of vague and they probably didn't even use the same kind of 'equipment.' One of her hands felt the outline of Babs' keys in her back pocket, double checking their presence, while the other made sure her handgun was in its holster, too. How exciting! She was eager to do more than her usual scouting trips. It was exactly what she needed after all the drama that'd come with the aftermath of the Hellhounds' carnival. Once Bab's instructions were settled and clear in her head, she turned her attention to the door that stood just a few feet away. She'd broken into places before, shot door locks open and climbed through windows and cracks in broken walls. This building was just begging for them to enter, though, a thought that sounded dirty as soon as Olivia had it. She pushed it aside and pointed to the half-turned door handle, the way you could see how it was like, only just a few centimeters away from being fully closed. "I'm really fast," she told Babs for probably the fifteenth time that day. "So I'm gonna go open that and you're gonna cover me with your gun, okay? If there's zombies in there, I'm gonna run. Obviously." “Obviously,” Babs repeated, almost a little shocked. She was used to going out with people like Brian, like Day, like Calvin. All ex-military, all of them well aware of how to cover someone safely and how to make sure nothing went wrong. This girl was what, a college freshman who ran a lot? Jesus. Maybe their entrance strategy was simple, but Olivia had learned by now that it was dumb to assume the other person was on the same wavelength. Her hand settled back onto her gun as she stepped forward and reached for the handle, turning it and to slowly open the door. And then -- silence. There was nothing at all that came from the building, just the general ambiance of an early evening in Austin. Still, if Babs was sure… "Safe to enter the first room," she said, eyes still trained inside the building. “You see a zombie you get the hell up to high ground, get to the bus, drive out, and let me handle them. Got it?” Babs said, her voice low and soft as she stepped forward and eyed the gun. They'd covered this part of the plan earlier; it was simple reiteration by this point. That was why she had the keys, after all. But that didn't mean there wasn't a part of Olivia that felt that if the zombies came, Babs' time would be better spent running, not shooting. Still, she nodded as they walked in together. "Yeah, I got it." Could this girl even shoot? Babs could, half her summers had been spent shooting BB guns and then rifles at cans in Pickens. Brian had loved to take her shooting at the range, he’d liked showing off his pretty blonde bride with her big blue eyes who could shoot better than some of the older hands in the shop. When they’d first started dating in the field, Babs had let him ‘teach’ her how to shoot- an excuse to lean up against him, and let him feel big and important. She’d been an idiot. Babs felt for her knife, knowing damn well that an unheard kill was better than the easy kill a gunshot would bring. She wanted to ask Olivia so many questions, she wanted to ask her just how many of these she dealt with, how often her life was put into danger for the sake of hard candies, bandages, and other supplies. She hoped to God that Gabriel understood what their purpose was here. And how hard they were likely to fight to get him back to LBJ. On her hip, Babs had a walkie talkie. Gabe should have had the other one, but so far no reception was hard. She gently pressed a button on it, hoping to hear a beep back from somewhere in the building. This had been his lab after all. No sound back- but maybe they weren’t close enough to hear. After a slow approach, the two women reached the center of the room without incident. Olivia's eyes scanned the interior, her feet planted steady on the floor she she willed herself to not make a sound. There was the risk of attracting the undead, yes, but she was also meant to be listening for equipment. (Again, whatever that sounded like.) Babs would click the walkie talkie every few feet, and after they crossed through three rooms with no incident, she heard it- a sharp beep like a school bell, muffled with distance. She pointed in the direction to Olivia, and pressed again so they could be sure of the sound. Silence was not uncomfortable to Babs, but right then what bothered her was the fact that it seemed as if there was some sound- creaks of the floor, a door on old hinges. All of it explainable by wind, by weight, by time. Or by the undead. Babs expected to smell them again, as she had during outings in the past. But there was no smell- just a sharp beep getting closer and closer as they continued to rely on their ears to lead them through. Ever the optimist, Olivia was sure the presence of her friend's walkie talkie meant that he'd be here, too. Maybe he was just being smart, stealthy even, by not picking up. Maybe he was fighting off zombies at that very moment. But the room in the far left of the building seemed empty, but hadn’t been for long. Babs could see the walkie talkie, half smashed and barely warbling by the time Babs pressed for it again. She got onto her stomach, and pulled it out from under what looked like a DYI hammock mess. She could almost smell Gabe on the sheets. “Gabe,” she muttered. “Where the fuck are you?” That was when the first zombie stumbled out, dragging itself out from behind what looked like a half-broken closet door. Babs was still on the floor, nearer to the zombie than Olivia was, and the older woman's words echoed then, sharply, in her head: You see a zombie you get the hell up to high ground, get to the bus, drive out, and let me handle them. Got it? "Babs," she said in between breaths, eyes wide. God, this was why she didn't run with partners if she could help it; there was that instinct to bolt, of course, but how could she just leave Babs there? And that was just leaving her in the room, too. How was she supposed to drive away without her? She'd done a lot of stupid shit in the last two years when it came to dealing with zombies, but she was sure that Babs would consider her staying put just then to be the dumbest. Too bad for her that she did just that, her gun up and trained on the zombie while she willed Babs to get up. Babs had struggled before with zombies. The undead nature, the way it was just human flesh falling off of the bone. Sometimes the fear of what if they’re alive?- a haggard human could look like a fresh one after all. But in that moment, Babs didn’t hesitate. She turned, swung low, and knocked the zombie over by hitting the back of the knees. A moment later she was on her knees next to him, one hand holding him down by the throat and the other plunging a knife through the eye. She stabbed three more times, until finally the thing stopped moving. It was only when she took her weapon back that Babs allowed herself to look at the face- it wasn’t Gabe. Part of her was glad, because Gabe might not be dead then. But the other part, the more realistic part, couldn’t help but wish it had been Gabe. At least if it had been, she’d be sure of the man’s fate and would have dealt with what she saw was her duty to her friends and family: to put them down if needed. “Damn,” she muttered, before standing. She kept her knife out, before turning on Olivia, one hand on her hips and eyes narrowed. “Nice running, Atlanta.” "It was just one," Olivia retorted, a defensive edge clear in her tone. Somehow, she was more affronted by the way Babs was looking at her than the violence she had just witnessed. "I'm all for running, but I knew we could take it down super easy. And we -- you -- did." That was like, child's play for Babs. Like, maybe she hadn't been in the Army, but it wasn't like she hadn't spent the last two years doing stuff like this for the LBJ Library. Babs bristled. She bit her tongue. She had a game for people like Olivia when they were a patient- a point system. If she broke even she got a treat. +1 for not yelling at Olivia. "Besides, what are you going to do if I leave you? Use up all your ammo on whatever shows up and then make a break for it?" “No. Use half, and then leave with enough to get back safely,” Babs said, working hard to keep her tone in check. She failed (-1) she wasn’t used to her fellows in the field being young girls she felt protective of- she was used to Cal, to army boys and girls who were tough and chewed leather like marshmallows. “You ever been on a team before?” Southern twang. -1. "Of course," Olivia said impatiently, her free hand balling on her hip too, the two women's stances mirroring each other unconsciously. Hadn't she already mentioned her lifelong history of team sports? Even if running was a solitary event, unless you were like, doing relay or something, you still won and lost as a team. But Babs didn’t know that- she knew softball. Football. Running was just a part of sports to her, not a whole sport. "Look, I'm not -- I know I wasn't in the Army or anything, but I'm not dumb." She was the one who'd been living here in Austin for the last two years, after all, dealing with crap like this every day. It was what she did. (Footsteps sounded, distantly, but they went unheard.) “I didn’t say you were dumb, I wouldn’t say you were dumb, Olivia,” Babs said, pinching the bridge of her nose (-1) and feeling a stress headache coming on as the younger woman tried valiantly to hide the petulant pout and wounded ego. “We need to keep going- if Gabe is here… if he’s dead, it’s my duty to put him down.” Olivia had to understand that, right? She was a big girl. Babs holstered her gun, she looked in either direction and picked a path. “You with me?” she asked for a final time (+1), ready to go with or without her. Despite the defensive blustering and insubordinance she'd just displayed, there was no hesitating before Olivia started to follow. "Yeah, I'm with you," she said, her voice nearly a grumble. This was why she so rarely went out with a partner who wasn't another scout, someone who thought and reacted the exact same way that she did when things like this happened. You couldn't afford disagreements like this when you were wandering through abandoned buildings looking for people. Not when she needed to keep her head and not worry about what other people thought about her. There were two more rooms on the ground floor, both of them empty of living and undead people and any usable supplies. And then they were in front of an eerily lit flight of stairs. "What are the chances that your friend's up there?" Olivia asked. “He’s resourceful and cocky,” Babs said by way of answer, though there was a deep sigh. Her gut was saying to turn back, and let whatever fate Gabe had met be his fate- not theirs. But Olivia had agreed to this, and Babs did feel a sense of duty. She eyed the stairs, and looked over her shoulder- if they got trapped up there, getting out would be much harder than it would been on the first floor. She wanted to give Olivia another out, but she knew the girl had made a choice- she had to respect it (1+). “Let’s go,” she said, checking her gun quickly and then taking a step up. Olivia nodded, doubt and skepticism easily visible on her face, but she followed Babs up the stairs. Her heart felt like it was hammering in her ears, her eyes wide and extra-alert. This was a big risk they were taking, and she wasn't sure how much further she'd follow Babs. (Well -- probably as far as Babs wanted to take this, but that didn't mean Olivia had to like it.) They reached the second floor, the boards creaking under their shoes as they hit the landing. Olivia's eyes darted left and right, assessing the doors and hallways. The sound of their breathing, the fear she was so poorly disguising, was palpable. "Which one should we try first?" she asked Babs, voice low and quiet. "One on the --" And then more floorboards creaked, the sound coming from in front of them. Then more creaking, cracking noises, followed by the telltale moaning that Olivia knew too well. "We should get out of here," she said, but this time she waited for orders before she did anything else. Babs wasn't even sure how to be in charge of someone who couldn't shoot the eye out of a squirrel or was sick in bed. She grabbed her knife and stepped forward, her choice made for a split second. She wanted to find Gabe, to find him and deal with him. But when she saw the way the floor dipped, and smelt what was coming closer, she suddenly changed her mind- not for herself. Her mind focused on Olivia. Young and full of promise, Babs turned around and nodded. “Car, now,” she said with that same firm leadership. She put one hand on Olivia’s upper arm, actually leading her out. It’s the walking equivalent of the soccer-mom-arm in a car, and Babs didn't even know how to translate that to her brain right then. If there was anything Olivia had learned from fending off and dodging shufflers and walkers, though, it was that sometimes you just had to make your retreat when you could, pride be damned. Their pace quickened in no time as the two women hastily made their way back down the stairs as the footsteps behind them sped up. Olivia didn't have to look over her shoulder to tell that the monsters behind them were moving fast. Faster than the ones that dragged themselves along the ground, faster than the ones that walked. She and Babs were faster, though, blessed with legs that worked and minds fully in control of their bodies, and before she could even be aware of what was happening -- how had they missed that pack of zombies when they'd parked in front of the damned place? -- they broke out into a run for the car. The zombies' hive mentality was in full force that night; they were all making those mouth-breathing, moaning noises that seemed to attract their friends and family to the scene real quick. When one of the women stumbled, pulling the other down accidentally -- when had they started holding hands? -- the fear caught tight around Olivia's heart and senses, causing her to trip over her feet as she pushed herself back up off of the ground. Someone was swearing, or maybe it was both of them, but one car door got unlocked just in time. Olivia slammed it shut just as the nearest walker's hand scratched against the glass, its nails leaving a dull sound that echoed in her ears. Babs still had her hand locked around Olivia’s, and when the walker pushed against the window, she tugged Olivia closer to her body, actually hugging the girl to her chest like a child protecting her doll. Olivia returned the gesture automatically, holding on with the relief of knowing that they'd only just made it. They held on until Babs' hands stopped shaking and that was when she took the car keys, started the ignition and drove without a word, that hand still on Olivia’s. |