[hider=Scenario #3]
[b]Scenario:[/b] [url=https://www.google.co.uk/maps/@41.9044002,-88.0084627,412m/data=!3m1!1e3]CVS Pharmacy/North Grace Street[/url]
[b]Scenario Type:[/b] Open
[b]Scenario Post Frequency: [/b] At least 1 per 48 hours, or I ask for GM’s approval on DayZing your char ‘n looting his/her stuff. 
[b]Max Players:[/b] 3
[b]Current Players:[/b] SyrianHamster, Dragonbud
[b]Loot Level:[/b] Maybe, maybe not. 
[b]Walker Density:[/b] Low.
[b]Bandits:[/b] There's a good chance.[/hider]

[hider=Hannah’s Group]
[b]Members:[/b] Hannah Banks, [s]Camellia Morgan[/s], [s]Woodrow Hepburn[/s], Oskar Rennold. 
[b]Weapon Pool:[/b]M4A1 CQCR (1 x 22), Winchester Model 70 (x20), Heavy Duty Tyre Wrench
[b]Vehicle:[/b] Humvee | 40% Fuel | 25% Condition | Seats 6
[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]Outside of the pharmacy.[/hider]

[i]Oskar found himself in a sweet dream, set in the twilight mass of post-Soviet suburbs that formed Warsaw's outskirts. It was cold out, but the sun was shining, and he was sitting at his desk in the humble office he often called his bedroom. Julia and Lana were making commotion outside the window; screaming at each other the way children often do for no reason other than the literal hell of it. 

He heard the shower door open, and then close on well cleansed seals. There were wet footsteps on the aging tiles of the bathroom, and then the slight creak of a door nob. 

"Kochanie?" came the familiar, soothing yet somehow mocking tone of his wife's voice. 

He smiled gleefully, setting down his paperwork with an affirmative grunt. "Tak, moja miłość?"

There was a sudden dragging sound on the carpet behind him; something about it unnerved Oskar, and he could not bring himself to look back. His heart pounded, and he noted the sudden absence of his childrens' racket. 

Freezing, wet hands planted themselves on the back of his neck; slimy lips braced the sid-[/i]

Hannah's assault rifle rattled its symphony of death. Something thick and foul smelling suddenly hugged Oskar's face, and he grimaced at the touch. 

"Get up," she whispered; as if noise discipline mattered after firing her weapon. 

He looked over at her. Everything was hazy, and he struggled to make out her familiar half-man, half-woman form. For seconds he tried hard to focus, willing his eyes to cast aside the veil they had donned themselves with. He brought up his hand, wiping at them furiously, and it came away bloody. Suddenly he became aware that just about every inch of his body pulsed with pain. 

"Wha-"

"Get up." 

With a sigh, Oskar heaved himself forwards; something stopped him. Round and solid, it held firm against his bruised chest. After fumbling around the object, he realised it was a steering wheel - a sudden wave of nausea brought home the fact that he was upside down. He vomitted acidic bile onto what he guessed was once the hummer's windshield. 

"Trains leaving," Hannah said, looking around nervously. "You better unfuck that situation of yours, Rennold." 

The familiar hammering thunder of the former pilot's voice gave Oskar's limbs a burst of energy, and he pulled himself free from the seat; falling onto tarmac and broken glass. Gore still caked his face, and he ventured a peak back towards where he had been hanging.

He gasped.

"She turned. It was you or her, soldier," Hannah said with a shrug. "Nothing you or I could do."

Camellia's broken body was slanted lazily between the driver and front passenger chairs. Her head was missing from the nose upwards, and the window behind was covered in the apocalypse's painfully stale decore. 

"Fuck," he managed. 

Hannah nodded. 

[b]"Hannah? Oskar? Camellia?"[/b]

Kylie was alive and well, it seemed. If Oskar had half a brain to think with at that moment in time, he'd of thought it a miracle. 

"We're here," he yelled, stumbling to his feet. Hannah steadied him. "Where do we go?" 

Hannah was already walking away, shrugging off the disaster and loss of life with her usual cold demeanour. Oskar looked in the direction she moved, and spotted a large commercial pharmacy just across the road. It seemed a solid enough structure, untouched by the tell tale signs of looting and death. This alone sent alarm bells ringing in his head, because such a sight was not normal. 

"Hannah?" He called after her, but she did not reply. "What are you doing?" 

Turning he saw Kylie approaching, for a moment thinking her a walker, and he hurried back to the wreckage for his rifle. Grabbing it, he turned back but was relieved to see that she walked with a [i]living[/i] gait. 

"Are you okay?" He asked her.