Oleg glanced at the Medic's gun and power pack. He hoped the thing was up and running, he would hate to be on the field without it. Certainly zombies would have the potential danger of simply killing them with a bite, but this didn't mean the group was immune to other injuries. Unfortunately nothing of Kurt's pack made any particular sense to Oleg.
"Let us hope it is good doc-tor."
When Leon mentioned the Administrator, Oleg thought. The Administrator did always seem to know what was happening: she was usually giving instructions during the rounds, it would be difficult to imagine she wouldn't know what's happening now.
Ah, Teufort. Oleg smiled. His first job was there. He was getting nostalgic for the days when there were only three weapons everyone seemed to use and intelligence capture was the main idea. He thought fondly of the many times the teams on either side would get bored of just using their primaries and would consent to use melee weapons for the rest of the day. It was good times.
"Da, dis will work."
"Let us hope it is good doc-tor."
When Leon mentioned the Administrator, Oleg thought. The Administrator did always seem to know what was happening: she was usually giving instructions during the rounds, it would be difficult to imagine she wouldn't know what's happening now.
Ah, Teufort. Oleg smiled. His first job was there. He was getting nostalgic for the days when there were only three weapons everyone seemed to use and intelligence capture was the main idea. He thought fondly of the many times the teams on either side would get bored of just using their primaries and would consent to use melee weapons for the rest of the day. It was good times.
"Da, dis will work."
He glanced up as he tinkered with the Kritzkrieg. Kurt nodded and looked back down to the pack. "Fortunately, I didn't need to use it, so it's near fully charged." There was a couple turning of dials and the pack was turned off in order to save the juice. How fortunate for them. However, he would need to conserve as much energy as he could before they reached wherever.
Eyes glancing up towards Leon, though he need not move his head, he listened in on the question about the Administrator. The dove fluttered on up into where Leon sat, perching himself beside the bobble head and pecking a few times at it as it swung with the momentum of the vehicle. "Yes, I agree. Should we stop by Teufort, I should also try to find juice for this baby." he said patting the Kritzkrieg as he tightened the metal band around the tank that had been falling loose. The dove cooed once poking its beak in the direction of Leon.
Eyes glancing up towards Leon, though he need not move his head, he listened in on the question about the Administrator. The dove fluttered on up into where Leon sat, perching himself beside the bobble head and pecking a few times at it as it swung with the momentum of the vehicle. "Yes, I agree. Should we stop by Teufort, I should also try to find juice for this baby." he said patting the Kritzkrieg as he tightened the metal band around the tank that had been falling loose. The dove cooed once poking its beak in the direction of Leon.
Leon nodded, making a mental note to remember to keep going to Teufort once they were done here. They'd have to be quick; if there were that many zombies at the fort, then surely there would be even more in a town that was inhabited with more than just mercenaries. A bit depressing, but realistic.
"Nice little dove," he commented to Kurt, slowing down a tad as they hit the one mile mark and looking over at Kestrel. "What's its name?" He knew Medics were quite fond of their little feathered pets, and Kurt seemed to be no exception.
He slowed down even more, peering down the road as the first few buildings of the town came into view. It looked abandoned; no dead things yet.
Yet.
"Nice little dove," he commented to Kurt, slowing down a tad as they hit the one mile mark and looking over at Kestrel. "What's its name?" He knew Medics were quite fond of their little feathered pets, and Kurt seemed to be no exception.
He slowed down even more, peering down the road as the first few buildings of the town came into view. It looked abandoned; no dead things yet.
Yet.
Oleg clearly had been at the forts too long. The little buildings that made up the town seemed too flimsy for him, as well built as the bunkers and battlements typically were. The streets seemed like a mess, there were cars simply at the side of the road or simply driven straight into a storefront, crushed bodies and the rather inert dead either stuffed inside or stuck under wheel wells and front end bumpers. It was strange, evidence of humanity having crashed to a halt when the infected had shown up.
As if to make matters worse, there was no sound. Not the hum of an engine in the distance, no one walking, no car doors slamming or babies crying. The loudest thing for what seemed like miles was the hitch of the camper engine and the wind. It reminded Oleg of pictures he'd seen of the moon. A spy had explained to him in one of his philosophical moments that the surface would never change, that the boot prints of astronauts and impact craters of meteorites would always be there.
Oleg felt like that, like it would always be there. But that wasn't entirely true: it was all decaying.
There was enough space between cars that even Oleg could tell the camper would make it, but how far and how quickly was another matter. That and the noise. There weren't any immediate signs that the dead, or, in fact, anyone was about. The silence had a strange effect on Oleg. It made him feel something that wasn't rage or joy, his too most common states. His jaw tightened and his hands were a little twitchy at his sides. Nervousness? In a heavy? Not a usual sight.
As if to make matters worse, there was no sound. Not the hum of an engine in the distance, no one walking, no car doors slamming or babies crying. The loudest thing for what seemed like miles was the hitch of the camper engine and the wind. It reminded Oleg of pictures he'd seen of the moon. A spy had explained to him in one of his philosophical moments that the surface would never change, that the boot prints of astronauts and impact craters of meteorites would always be there.
Oleg felt like that, like it would always be there. But that wasn't entirely true: it was all decaying.
There was enough space between cars that even Oleg could tell the camper would make it, but how far and how quickly was another matter. That and the noise. There weren't any immediate signs that the dead, or, in fact, anyone was about. The silence had a strange effect on Oleg. It made him feel something that wasn't rage or joy, his too most common states. His jaw tightened and his hands were a little twitchy at his sides. Nervousness? In a heavy? Not a usual sight.
Kurt had been concentrating on fiddling with the Kritzkrieg for the majority since they had last spoken, bobbing his head with a slight smirk. "Kestrel. Be careful, she might try to eat your finger tip." He said, the dove cooing pleasantly as it seemed to eye Leon.
However with entering the town, the medic couldn't help but look up from his work seeing how the Heavy had grown quiet, then seeing his hands. Indeed, a reaction he had never would've expected from him. If the Heavy was nervous he almost thought the world was ending. Oh wait. The faint sound of his tinkering with his machine had ceased when he had looked out the front window into the town. Feeling a cold shiver up his spine, he tensed, the sight of the town wasn't the majority of what also made him nervous. Like the Heavy, the silence seemed to bug him the most. He almost wished for there to be some sort of sound emitting from the buildings.
Slipping on the Kritzkrieg, he picked his beaked mask from his belt and slipped it on, the mask slightly blood stained, however he didn't seem to care. It covered his eyes at least.
However with entering the town, the medic couldn't help but look up from his work seeing how the Heavy had grown quiet, then seeing his hands. Indeed, a reaction he had never would've expected from him. If the Heavy was nervous he almost thought the world was ending. Oh wait. The faint sound of his tinkering with his machine had ceased when he had looked out the front window into the town. Feeling a cold shiver up his spine, he tensed, the sight of the town wasn't the majority of what also made him nervous. Like the Heavy, the silence seemed to bug him the most. He almost wished for there to be some sort of sound emitting from the buildings.
Slipping on the Kritzkrieg, he picked his beaked mask from his belt and slipped it on, the mask slightly blood stained, however he didn't seem to care. It covered his eyes at least.
Leon slowly eased the vehicle to a stop, wincing a little at the harsh grinding of the gears and the shudder as the camper was shifted into park. He turned it off, slipped the keys in his pockets, a quiver of arrows on his back, grabbed his weapons and stepped outside.
He stood there for a few minutes, his eyes closed as he just listened to the silence. This was going to take a little getting used to; he was used to noise and ruckus and explosions and gunfire, not complete and utter silence like this. The only thing he heard now was the gentle whistle of the wind as it blew down the desolate highway through the abandoned town- at least it seemed abandoned from the outside. Leon had a feeling they weren't entirely alone, in that sense of the word. Not anything alive, obviously. They probably wouldn't see anything alive for a while.
He carefully nocked an arrow to his Huntsman and, after a head gesture to the other two to follow, he silently started to creep to the storefronts, his bowstring drawn back and ready to fire. His boots crunched quietly on the dusty concrete, red desert dust having been blown in from the south, and nobody was here to sweep it up so it had started to accumulate in certain areas. It helped add to the whole 'ghost town' effect that was so immensely creepy.
A disemboweled zombie stuck under a wheel of a car growled weakly and pawed at Leon. The Sniper stared down at it a moment, his brow furrowed, before he continued his trek into the town. It wasn't worth the arrow and the time. It wasn't going to hurt them anyways. It could just sit there for now and decompose.
He stopped when they reached a small, homely sort of grocery store. He remembered passing by this place a few times when he came to town with one of his teammates. They had stopped at the mechanic's and then the newsstand to pick up a comic which wasn't there; this must've been the store the Scout had gotten the beer from.
Despite the kid's annoying demeanor, Leon couldn't help but miss him and worry about him a little bit. He hadn't seen where the kid had run off to during the initial swarm, and he had been busy trying not to die. Hopefully he had made it. If not, nothing he could do about it now.
He shook his head and approached the store with the silence inherent in a Sniper, peering through the dusty glass and creeping around to a part that was broken because a car had crashed into it. He couldn't imagine what had happened here if people had been reckless enough to crash.
True, they probably weren't very good drivers to begin with, not a lot of people were, but this was ridiculous.
He stood there for a few minutes, his eyes closed as he just listened to the silence. This was going to take a little getting used to; he was used to noise and ruckus and explosions and gunfire, not complete and utter silence like this. The only thing he heard now was the gentle whistle of the wind as it blew down the desolate highway through the abandoned town- at least it seemed abandoned from the outside. Leon had a feeling they weren't entirely alone, in that sense of the word. Not anything alive, obviously. They probably wouldn't see anything alive for a while.
He carefully nocked an arrow to his Huntsman and, after a head gesture to the other two to follow, he silently started to creep to the storefronts, his bowstring drawn back and ready to fire. His boots crunched quietly on the dusty concrete, red desert dust having been blown in from the south, and nobody was here to sweep it up so it had started to accumulate in certain areas. It helped add to the whole 'ghost town' effect that was so immensely creepy.
A disemboweled zombie stuck under a wheel of a car growled weakly and pawed at Leon. The Sniper stared down at it a moment, his brow furrowed, before he continued his trek into the town. It wasn't worth the arrow and the time. It wasn't going to hurt them anyways. It could just sit there for now and decompose.
He stopped when they reached a small, homely sort of grocery store. He remembered passing by this place a few times when he came to town with one of his teammates. They had stopped at the mechanic's and then the newsstand to pick up a comic which wasn't there; this must've been the store the Scout had gotten the beer from.
Despite the kid's annoying demeanor, Leon couldn't help but miss him and worry about him a little bit. He hadn't seen where the kid had run off to during the initial swarm, and he had been busy trying not to die. Hopefully he had made it. If not, nothing he could do about it now.
He shook his head and approached the store with the silence inherent in a Sniper, peering through the dusty glass and creeping around to a part that was broken because a car had crashed into it. He couldn't imagine what had happened here if people had been reckless enough to crash.
True, they probably weren't very good drivers to begin with, not a lot of people were, but this was ridiculous.
Oleg felt his natural compulsion to bellow out an affirmative to the sniper's orders, but his realization, that stealth was key, won out. He'd been killed by many enemies, but few had ever truly stopped him. He was not about to start with the living dead.
He pulled on his Killing Gloves of Boxing and relished the way his fists clenched. His thoughts turned to those days in Teufort, where enemies and allies could make mutual agreements honored by their desire for a good fight. The memories kept him warm even when his environment was so dead. He kept to the sniper's back, occasionally stopping to glance around. This would not be a great position to be caught unawares. They had one real avenue of escape, that being the camper, and that could be cut off if the street around it were somehow blocked.
The red sands billowing across the streets were too fine to really grant any noise, beneficial to their awareness, detrimental in the sense of it's disquieting effect. There was just nothing, not even the dreaded tumble weed. When they made it to the storefront Oleg almost hoped to find someone inside just for the sake of seeing someone besides themselves. While there was no such luck, the store did seem to have some food products on the shelves.
Not all of them, of course: Name brand stuff was gone, even a good portion of the off brand was missing too. Freezer stuff was either thawed in powerless fridges long enough to look moldy or was gone already. Forget about sweets and junk food. There were a few untouched cans Oleg could see, veggies and fruits, even canned meats.
Oleg gently hefted one of the cans of what appeared to be spam. As one might observe in Oleg's physique, he was not a picky eater.
"Dis looks good for stew making."
Unfortunately for everyone else, Oleg's idea of 'stew' was 'a mix of every food product within arms reach.' Not unusual for a heavy. A horrifying prospect for his team mates.
Things were quiet for now, but there was a door to a back room that seemed shut, maybe even locked. It could lead to the store's stocked goods where the customers might not have ransacked. It could also lead to penned up shambling baby men. Oleg noticed it but made no comment, looking to the sniper for 'direction.' Not unusual: Oleg was generally not a leader, just a very enthusiastic follower, a common trait amongst heavies.
He pulled on his Killing Gloves of Boxing and relished the way his fists clenched. His thoughts turned to those days in Teufort, where enemies and allies could make mutual agreements honored by their desire for a good fight. The memories kept him warm even when his environment was so dead. He kept to the sniper's back, occasionally stopping to glance around. This would not be a great position to be caught unawares. They had one real avenue of escape, that being the camper, and that could be cut off if the street around it were somehow blocked.
The red sands billowing across the streets were too fine to really grant any noise, beneficial to their awareness, detrimental in the sense of it's disquieting effect. There was just nothing, not even the dreaded tumble weed. When they made it to the storefront Oleg almost hoped to find someone inside just for the sake of seeing someone besides themselves. While there was no such luck, the store did seem to have some food products on the shelves.
Not all of them, of course: Name brand stuff was gone, even a good portion of the off brand was missing too. Freezer stuff was either thawed in powerless fridges long enough to look moldy or was gone already. Forget about sweets and junk food. There were a few untouched cans Oleg could see, veggies and fruits, even canned meats.
Oleg gently hefted one of the cans of what appeared to be spam. As one might observe in Oleg's physique, he was not a picky eater.
"Dis looks good for stew making."
Unfortunately for everyone else, Oleg's idea of 'stew' was 'a mix of every food product within arms reach.' Not unusual for a heavy. A horrifying prospect for his team mates.
Things were quiet for now, but there was a door to a back room that seemed shut, maybe even locked. It could lead to the store's stocked goods where the customers might not have ransacked. It could also lead to penned up shambling baby men. Oleg noticed it but made no comment, looking to the sniper for 'direction.' Not unusual: Oleg was generally not a leader, just a very enthusiastic follower, a common trait amongst heavies.
Having followed the pair of his team mates, kept his eyes hidden from view beneath that creepy bird mask. The medic instead had his Blutsauger out. In fact the most silent weapon he had, he wouldn't risk using the frying pan making a ton of noise... no matter how much he loved the sound of the clang sound snapping the neck of an enemy. Like the Heavy had thought, this was meant for stealth. The young medic didn't even seem to look down on the moving corpse Leon had passed. He was as stoic as a statue as it seemed. Or maybe he was hiding it under the mask.
He stopped just outside the grocery as the pair had gone on inside, the blonde glanced over to see his dove, pecking at the flesh of the zombie. He cringed inwardly and walked over, though keeping a distance from the zombie's claws, he flapped his gloved hand at the bird who cooed and flew to his shoulder as he whispered in an angry tone. "No, Kestrel. Zombie flesh is bad for you." The male turned from the corpse that still clawed at him and went back to the front of the grocery seeming to take on the job of watch man for the two who were prying the shelves for supplies. The doctor didn't see anything change out of what they had been seeing already but he couldn't help but feel a chill up his spine with the silence. It itched at him he was almost tempted to break the silence though he didn't need to with the Heavy discussing stew.
He had glanced back to his comrades and noticed the door Oleg was looking at and then the look he gave the sniper. He spoke up at a moderate tone. "Put an ear to the door and listen for movement." he suggested knowing it was a good way of knowing if anything was behind it unless zombies were that stealthy. Kurt didn't like thinking about that. He however turned his attention back to watching for any suspicious things along with watching the camper.
He stopped just outside the grocery as the pair had gone on inside, the blonde glanced over to see his dove, pecking at the flesh of the zombie. He cringed inwardly and walked over, though keeping a distance from the zombie's claws, he flapped his gloved hand at the bird who cooed and flew to his shoulder as he whispered in an angry tone. "No, Kestrel. Zombie flesh is bad for you." The male turned from the corpse that still clawed at him and went back to the front of the grocery seeming to take on the job of watch man for the two who were prying the shelves for supplies. The doctor didn't see anything change out of what they had been seeing already but he couldn't help but feel a chill up his spine with the silence. It itched at him he was almost tempted to break the silence though he didn't need to with the Heavy discussing stew.
He had glanced back to his comrades and noticed the door Oleg was looking at and then the look he gave the sniper. He spoke up at a moderate tone. "Put an ear to the door and listen for movement." he suggested knowing it was a good way of knowing if anything was behind it unless zombies were that stealthy. Kurt didn't like thinking about that. He however turned his attention back to watching for any suspicious things along with watching the camper.
Originally, the Sniper passed the shelves of food, although it was tempting to stop and look. But they currently didn't have anything to carry them with, besides their arms, and they kinda needed those free if they got attacked. So instead he crept around to an aisle that had backpacks in it and took a couple of those before coming back, tossing one to Oleg before putting his arrow and bow back in his quiver and stocking up on whatever was left- not a whole lot, but it was something.
He nodded at Kurt, a silent way of acknowledging his good idea, before creeping to the door and gingerly leaning against it, listening for any kind of noise inside. There were sounds inside; not many, though, and he figured he and Oleg could take them on easily.
A hand was placed on the doorknob and it was tested cautiously; seemed unlocked, that was good. He held up three fingers in a countdown, taking a deep breath at one and throwing the door open. Almost immediately a zombie toppled out, followed by another, and another-
There was a slight shwinging sound as the Kukri was swung, whacking one in the head and killing it instantly. Another quickly took its place, growling hungrily and clutching at the Sniper's arm, receiving a blade in the chin for its troubles. Leon backed off instinctively after that, the close range combat making him nervous; he was better at long distance fighting and got steadily worse as the enemy drew near. He would loop around the aisle real quick and pick whichever ones somebody else didn't get off with his Huntsman.
The bow was back in his hand, and an arrow was sen into the temple of a shambler- ah, yes, that was much better.
He nodded at Kurt, a silent way of acknowledging his good idea, before creeping to the door and gingerly leaning against it, listening for any kind of noise inside. There were sounds inside; not many, though, and he figured he and Oleg could take them on easily.
A hand was placed on the doorknob and it was tested cautiously; seemed unlocked, that was good. He held up three fingers in a countdown, taking a deep breath at one and throwing the door open. Almost immediately a zombie toppled out, followed by another, and another-
There was a slight shwinging sound as the Kukri was swung, whacking one in the head and killing it instantly. Another quickly took its place, growling hungrily and clutching at the Sniper's arm, receiving a blade in the chin for its troubles. Leon backed off instinctively after that, the close range combat making him nervous; he was better at long distance fighting and got steadily worse as the enemy drew near. He would loop around the aisle real quick and pick whichever ones somebody else didn't get off with his Huntsman.
The bow was back in his hand, and an arrow was sen into the temple of a shambler- ah, yes, that was much better.
As the sniper approached the door, Oleg raised his gloves. His face was blank, ready for work.
Leon's Kukri hitting the first of them was the only prompting Oleg needed. His fist made impact with one staggering his way and the head followed it until it smacked into another behind it. Oleg smiled, particularly fearsome at the red cast of his Killing Gloves of Boxing lighting up the pearly whites. He wasn't streaming his almost ever present bellows and sing song battle cries, but one could tell he was thrilled.
The second to meet him staggered back into a third when it was suddenly sans head. That third seemed far more sure of it's step until it's spine telescoped. This knocked a fourth that simply didn't have the coordination to stand again, and so Oleg helped him with a sickening 'crack' to it's skull from his boot. His smile never left him.
Until one of them managed to grasp the glowing glove. It pulled his hand in before he noticed it, so relishing his previous kill as he was. His eyes opened wide for a split second and abject terror crossed his features as it bit down into the sun-like surface of his boxing glove. He braced for pain, for all the ruminating on permanent death to be realized.
Thankfully for him, it had no teeth. It was patchy, bald, and seemed like one of the many older persons of his home country.
This was lost on Oleg. His first punch would likely have been enough with the disintegration of the skull. The second cracked the chest open in a tangle of broken ribs and splattered viscera. The third launched off his arm and sent the desecrated corpse stumbling back a step so that the fourth put Oleg's fist through one of the metal shelves. He gave the former man a fifth before sending his sixth hard enough into another zombie's stomach to lift it's torso off of it's lower limbs and back through the doorway.
Oleg's smile was gone. He shook his head slightly and panted. This had become a little more real than he'd anticipated.
Leon's Kukri hitting the first of them was the only prompting Oleg needed. His fist made impact with one staggering his way and the head followed it until it smacked into another behind it. Oleg smiled, particularly fearsome at the red cast of his Killing Gloves of Boxing lighting up the pearly whites. He wasn't streaming his almost ever present bellows and sing song battle cries, but one could tell he was thrilled.
The second to meet him staggered back into a third when it was suddenly sans head. That third seemed far more sure of it's step until it's spine telescoped. This knocked a fourth that simply didn't have the coordination to stand again, and so Oleg helped him with a sickening 'crack' to it's skull from his boot. His smile never left him.
Until one of them managed to grasp the glowing glove. It pulled his hand in before he noticed it, so relishing his previous kill as he was. His eyes opened wide for a split second and abject terror crossed his features as it bit down into the sun-like surface of his boxing glove. He braced for pain, for all the ruminating on permanent death to be realized.
Thankfully for him, it had no teeth. It was patchy, bald, and seemed like one of the many older persons of his home country.
This was lost on Oleg. His first punch would likely have been enough with the disintegration of the skull. The second cracked the chest open in a tangle of broken ribs and splattered viscera. The third launched off his arm and sent the desecrated corpse stumbling back a step so that the fourth put Oleg's fist through one of the metal shelves. He gave the former man a fifth before sending his sixth hard enough into another zombie's stomach to lift it's torso off of it's lower limbs and back through the doorway.
Oleg's smile was gone. He shook his head slightly and panted. This had become a little more real than he'd anticipated.
Kurt turned, blutsauger ready for any trouble, he however didn't join his comrades in taking down the zombies. He, on his guard and ready to help at least, he was majorly watching the streets, listening for sounds. They both seemed to have it handled for the moment until he had briefly glanced to see the Heavy being grasped, the medic jumped a bit, about to run at the zombie, expecting to hear to sound of flesh being torn. However when that sound never came, he blinked as the Heavy had wailed onto it. Kurt stopped in his tracks, flinching at the clang the metal shelf had made.
A sound they likely could've done without. As the fighting had finished, Kurt sprinted for the street and looked around just hoping that sound hadn't alerted other zombies. Though the clanging of the shelf was likely not very loud, it was also dead quiet in this town. When he was certain it was alright for the moment he paced over to Leon and Oleg, beginning to looked them over, ignoring any protests. Even if they weren't hurt he still checked them over just to be sure.
A sound they likely could've done without. As the fighting had finished, Kurt sprinted for the street and looked around just hoping that sound hadn't alerted other zombies. Though the clanging of the shelf was likely not very loud, it was also dead quiet in this town. When he was certain it was alright for the moment he paced over to Leon and Oleg, beginning to looked them over, ignoring any protests. Even if they weren't hurt he still checked them over just to be sure.
Leon flinched slightly at the loud noise the shelf made, hardly having the time to try to help his comrade before the Heavy had dealt with the issue himself. Now that the scare was over, though, the dull ringing of the shelf brought his attention to how loud the impact had been. At least Oleg was okay; good thing the padding on his gloves was so thick.
He closed his eyes briefly, letting the Medic check him for anything before opening them again and glancing around the store. They needed to move fast; surely the sound hadn't gone unnoticed by anything within a mile radius, at the very least; the town was deathly quiet, so any little noise was quite conspicuous.
"Let's make this fast, fellas," Leon murmured quietly, slipping his bow back in its quiver and heading into the back storage area. "Kurt, if you hear anything odd, tell us and we'll get the hell out of here."
Using his Kukri to open the few unopened boxes, Leon began digging around for supplies. It was a little tougher than it seemed- a lot of stuff was spoiled, and the only things really salvageable were the canned goods- but once they found a good box it was quite easy to load up.
The only question was when it would start getting ugly with the dead undoubtedly shambling around somewhere in this forsaken town.
He closed his eyes briefly, letting the Medic check him for anything before opening them again and glancing around the store. They needed to move fast; surely the sound hadn't gone unnoticed by anything within a mile radius, at the very least; the town was deathly quiet, so any little noise was quite conspicuous.
"Let's make this fast, fellas," Leon murmured quietly, slipping his bow back in its quiver and heading into the back storage area. "Kurt, if you hear anything odd, tell us and we'll get the hell out of here."
Using his Kukri to open the few unopened boxes, Leon began digging around for supplies. It was a little tougher than it seemed- a lot of stuff was spoiled, and the only things really salvageable were the canned goods- but once they found a good box it was quite easy to load up.
The only question was when it would start getting ugly with the dead undoubtedly shambling around somewhere in this forsaken town.
Oleg's cringe melted when Kurt started checking him over. Even with the fairly nerve wracking experience of nearly being bitten, it was nice to know certain things hadn't changed in the post-apocalypse. Oleg gave Kurt a little smile and nod before he follows Leon.
Oleg's hands were fairly poor at the delicate tasks without mitts, but he could fumble a little with cans. Oleg wasn't terribly choosy with articles of clothing despite his lack of the colorful hats, so the pink backpack stuffed with food cans was nothing unusual. Still, it was fairly comically small on his shoulder. He'd picked up a few cans of beans, corn, other veggies, but also a few canned meats and breads, the likes of which often ended up in Oleg's particular variant of stew. He tried to hum quietly, a song those who'd been around the kitchen on RED based knew was a sign to stay clear.
Of course, the sound had likely reverberated, and as slow as the dead were, it would be like a tide. It wasn't so much the individual shambling baby men, but the fear of being separated from the camper that might drive Oleg to work a little faster. It would be a dangerous balance: fast enough to get things done that their window of opportunity wouldn't close, slow enough as not to be incautious.
Oleg's hands were fairly poor at the delicate tasks without mitts, but he could fumble a little with cans. Oleg wasn't terribly choosy with articles of clothing despite his lack of the colorful hats, so the pink backpack stuffed with food cans was nothing unusual. Still, it was fairly comically small on his shoulder. He'd picked up a few cans of beans, corn, other veggies, but also a few canned meats and breads, the likes of which often ended up in Oleg's particular variant of stew. He tried to hum quietly, a song those who'd been around the kitchen on RED based knew was a sign to stay clear.
Of course, the sound had likely reverberated, and as slow as the dead were, it would be like a tide. It wasn't so much the individual shambling baby men, but the fear of being separated from the camper that might drive Oleg to work a little faster. It would be a dangerous balance: fast enough to get things done that their window of opportunity wouldn't close, slow enough as not to be incautious.
Kurt returned smile with his own to the Heavy. The slight smile from under his red lens bird mask with a small smirk that quickly faded as he had immediately gone back to the front of the shop, standing on guard. He hadn't realized it but he started to fidget a bit. Even his hands were starting to tremble as he held his Blutsauger in hand. There was a tense sigh from his figure and he began to pace for a moment.
Walking a few steps back and forth in front of the shop he peered into the storage every so often as they were gathering items. As much as he could help, they couldn't risk getting corner by zombies. He'd at least be their early warning system. The man bit the inside of his cheek, jaw clenching until he heard something. A distant shuffling noise then silence. He glanced over his shoulder slightly, frozen in place. Garbage cans fell over in a distant alleyway and Kurt felt his heart leap into his throat. He turned straight into the shop. "Hurry up!" Kurt hissed loudly though anyone could tell he was starting to get scared. The silence wasn't helping. Kurt kept his Blutsauger aimed in a general direction of the sound he heard but heard nothing again after that.
Walking a few steps back and forth in front of the shop he peered into the storage every so often as they were gathering items. As much as he could help, they couldn't risk getting corner by zombies. He'd at least be their early warning system. The man bit the inside of his cheek, jaw clenching until he heard something. A distant shuffling noise then silence. He glanced over his shoulder slightly, frozen in place. Garbage cans fell over in a distant alleyway and Kurt felt his heart leap into his throat. He turned straight into the shop. "Hurry up!" Kurt hissed loudly though anyone could tell he was starting to get scared. The silence wasn't helping. Kurt kept his Blutsauger aimed in a general direction of the sound he heard but heard nothing again after that.
Leon had heard the sound too, and he was in agreement with Kurt- it was time to leave. He carefully poked Oleg's shoulder to get his attention and jerked his head at the front of the shop. Silence was key at this point, and they needed to be extremely careful as to not attract unwanted attention to themselves.
The Sniper stuffed one more can in his backpack, slung it over the shoulder opposite his quiver so he didn't block his way to the arrows, and slunk to the front of the store as quietly as possible. Leon was a naturally silent person so this wasn't too big of a challenge for him. He was mostly worried for the Heavy, so they'd have to move quickly.
He stopped next to Kurt and took a careful look around, not seeing anything yet, which was weird since the sound of the trashcan had seemed fairly close. After nocking an arrow to his bow, he began to creep down the street to the camper, his eyes wide as he watched for any kind of movement. None yet, which was the worst part, but a steady growling could now be heard which only added to the Sniper's tension. He couldn't tell if it was coming from behind them or ahead of them...
The Sniper stuffed one more can in his backpack, slung it over the shoulder opposite his quiver so he didn't block his way to the arrows, and slunk to the front of the store as quietly as possible. Leon was a naturally silent person so this wasn't too big of a challenge for him. He was mostly worried for the Heavy, so they'd have to move quickly.
He stopped next to Kurt and took a careful look around, not seeing anything yet, which was weird since the sound of the trashcan had seemed fairly close. After nocking an arrow to his bow, he began to creep down the street to the camper, his eyes wide as he watched for any kind of movement. None yet, which was the worst part, but a steady growling could now be heard which only added to the Sniper's tension. He couldn't tell if it was coming from behind them or ahead of them...