[hider=Scenario #3]
[b]Scenario:[/b] [url=https://www.google.co.uk/maps/@41.8999876,-88.0217102,128m/data=!3m1!1e3]Sunset Avenue[/url]
[b]Scenario Type:[/b] Open
[b]Max Players:[/b] 3
[b]Current Players:[/b] SyrianHamster, Dragonbud
[b]Loot Level:[/b] Don’t get your hopes up.
[b]Walker Density:[/b] Heavy.
[b]Bandits:[/b] Unlikely.[/hider]

[hider=Hannah’s Group]
[b]Members:[/b] Hannah Banks, Camellia Morgan, Woodrow Hepburn, Oskar Rennold. 
[b]Weapon Pool:[/b] M14 (1 x 11), M4A1 CQR (2 x 30), Winchester Model 70 (x20)
[b]Equipment Pool:[/b] Apache helmet, military radio, 2 x can of baked beans, box of stale bran flakes, map of Chicago, protein mix.
[b]Location:[/b]Moving down the road.[/hider]

[b]“Alright then, saddle up,”[/b] said Hannah, looking at the girl. [b]“Name’s Hannah Banks, and I’m the CO of this little outfit,”[/b] she pointed at Woody, [b]“he’s Woodrow Hepburn, and Oskar you’ve already met. If you see a skin headed girl running around, that’d be Camellia; she’s a bit temperamental, so I’d advise avoiding conversation with her.”[/b] 

“We gotta go,” muttered Woody, starting off down the road.

The walkers were surging up the street, gaining numbers with every yard, but the rest of the neighbourhood looked pretty quiet. Hannah and Oskar fell in behind him. The group had learnt since the massacre at Camp Defiance that the undead were a threat that could be nullified, if you simply moved quicker than them. Armed confrontations were suicides or last stands; real survivors dealt with the walkers by not dealing with them at all. 

[b]A rifle shot sounded from behind a tall wooden garden fence, off to the right of them[/b]. Hannah grimaced, not because of the apparent danger someone posed by using such a weapon against them, but because of the ‘Dinner Bell’ effect it had on walkers. Someone would have to be nuts to shoot off an unsilenced weapon in a tightly packed suburb like the one they were in, or very desperate. 

A square, heavy object flew over the fence and thumped into the grass verge below. The group froze, unwilling to hunker down behind cover because of the approaching threat from behind, but also unwilling to move up because of the possible threat up front.

“Friendly,” Hannah shouted, no sense in keeping quiet now she had figured, “or we will fire on you!” She released the safety on her rifle, and sighted the fence. 

A head poked up from behind the fence, followed quickly by two hands. Hannah’s finger rested on the trigger for a moment, but then she relaxed. It was Camellia. 

“I don’t even want to know why you fired your weapon, Cam,” sneered Hannah, walking over to the fence, “but you do that again, and I’ll put a bullet between your fucking eyes, understood?” 

Camellia didn’t respond, as was expected, but her wide eyes and trembling, hurried movement as she vaulted the fence told Hannah all she needed to know.

“Run,” screamed Camellia, kneeling down to pick up the square object she’d obviously thrown over the fence for a reason.

Before the group could turn to abide her warning, the fence suddenly buckled, and what sounded like a hundred angry murmurs took to the air. Camellia was up and running when It suddenly gave way to the weight behind it, eight-foot long wooden planks falling down on her, trapping her. 

“Shit,” hissed Hannah, watching Camellia get caught from the waist down by a bundle of fallen timber. It took her a mere second to analyse the situation, and then she was grabbing Oskar and running on down the road. “She’s gone, LET’S GO!”

Woody had other plans, though. He was old, and getting older; he’d seen so much pain in the last ten months, and had done very little to stop it. Today, that changed. He had nothing to lose after all, and surviving another couple of years before a stroke or cancer got him wasn’t going to change that. [b]He looked at the girl they’d found in the ambulance, and grabbed her by the arm.[/b]

[b]”I’m getting Cam out of that mess,”[/b] he said, pulling out his Beretta and shoving it at the girl. [b]“Safety’s off. All you gotta do is point it at anything that gets near me.” [/b]

Four shots rang out in quick succession, as Camellia brought her rifle up against the two dozen walkers clambering around in the ruined section of fence. She struggled with everything she had to free her legs, but there was no give in them, not when they were weighed down with a couple of gasping walkers. 

Woody bolted over to the scene, arriving in time to launch his right steel-capped boot into the face of a prone walker, as it grappled with Camellia’s gun. The force of the impact was so impressive, that the head simply tore from the neck, revealing vertebrae and swollen tendons. Then he grabbed another, fast approaching from his right and threw a vascular fist into its face; there was a mini-explosion of black blood, and teeth as it fell to the ground like a sack of shit. 

[b]The walkers were still struggling to regain their footing, having come down with the fence panels, and Woody wasted no time. He grabbed Camellia under her arms, and heaved. She screeched as her body moved, inch by inch, out ifs trap. Woody looked up – four walkers had risen to their feet, and were stumbling towards him. Camellia couldn’t aim her rifle properly, with Woody gripping her like he was, and resolved to fire blindly into the gathering mass of dead flesh. One fell. One flinched. Two kept coming.[/b]

Looking back at the girl, Woody yelled as loud as he could, [b]“shoot them, keep them off me, I’m almost done here!”[/b]