Agent Peter Burke (agentburke) wrote in zombieslogs, @ 2013-04-20 14:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | !taaank!!!, peter burke |
Who: Peter
What: Tank day narrative
When: Backdated to Tank day
Warnings: Not too bad
Even if Peter hadn't specialized in White Collar, there was nothing in the FBI that could have prepared him for the things he encountered since the viral outbreak. He'd come across zombies, demons, witches, mutants, and anything in between. Some proved to be allies. Some were enemies. Some were glitches in the big picture who barely seemed to touch Peter. All of it was abnormal to the life he'd led before that outbreak.
He found life on Sentry duty to be a comfortable routine. He pulled his shifts, kept the perimeter safe, and even made a few friends. The prison life was structured and as safe as any life could be in these trying times. As safe as anything could be until a Hell God appeared with ambitions to take over the world. Even with threats like that, with vampires who wanted revenge, with zombies who wanted to destroy and feed, some people were determined to hold on tight to the normal. There were weddings being planned. Children being raised. New relationships being formed. Even Neal seemed to find his niche here, and Peter was glad for that.
Peter's way of dealing was to follow his routine, and to write to Elizabeth. He knew somewhere his wife was writing to him too. They'd agreed to exchange the stacks of letters when they would see each other again. When, not if, because the Burkes were holding on tight to normal too. They weren't ready to give up on coming out of this viral outbreak and apocalypse to begin a new life together. Peter was in the middle of one of those letters to her when he heard the commotion on the radio around the time he felt the ground begin to shake.
It wasn't an earthquake. It was more the force of something hard and solid striking repeatedly against the ground in Everett. Peter grabbed his weapons and checked to be sure there were Sentry workers staying behind to protect the prison head on. Once he was certain there would be, he took off with some of the others to take on the threat before it could reach the prison. The town, even if they didn't always get along, had already agreed to work together with the Hell God. It only made sense to come together with this threat too. After all, they were all survivors trying to occupy the same town. It was in everyone's best interest to secure this threat as soon as possible.
Peter wasn't sure what he expected to see. He'd told himself that he couldn't be surprised any longer. That was apparently not true. Because the moment he laid eyes on the large zombie, his mouth fell open, his eyes widened, and for a moment he was paralyzed. Because how the hell did you see something like this and not feel fear grip you tight and shake you into the flight or fight impulse. He wasn't one to run though, so he chose to fight.
The bullets sprayed out of his weapon as he held his spot in the line, trying to keep it from getting any closer. If they could keep it away from buildings then maybe they could limit it's potential for wrecking completely chaos on the town. He didn't do small talk. He didn't do anything but continue to pump bullets and keep a safe distance so he didn't become one of the wounded.
He'd continue to pump bullets until there were no more bullets to shoot. Then he'd pray. Because the fbi hadn't prepared him for something like this. He had to go on his instincts. Instincts and faith.