[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 (x18), Heavy Duty Tyre Wrench
[b]Vehicle:[/b] NONE
[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]

Oskar shrugged, and then nodded in Hannah's direction. [b]"We follow her, I guess,"[/b] he said.

Hannah walked into the large concrete expanse of the pharmacy's carpark. There were no cars around, which was strange; the End Times saw places like this packed to the brim with desperate families and opportunists. The pristine condition of the building was another warning sign that something was afoot. There was no broken class, no garbage, no blood or bodies. 

Something small but hard dug into the sole of her foot as she began to move forwards. A small stone perhaps? Curiously, she lifted her boot and caught the glimmer of a spent shell casing. Movement caught her eye on the pharmacy's flat roofing, and she had but a second to curse her shell-shocked stupidity for just walking into this trap with zero regard for caution before gunfire rained down on her. 

With no cover to avail her, it was down to good old fashioned luck and chaos. As the bullets smacked into the concrete around her, she was already up and moving - not away, but towards - the pharmacy in a zig-zagging fashion. One of the most effective ways to break an ambush, was to simply dive forwards at the attackers. Never give up to confusion or panick. Turn the tables on them, as quickly as you can. 

Well, whilst that may have been true in Vietnam and when her ancestral kinsmen were fighting rice farmers with napalm, she was just one person against an unknown number of hostiles on an elevated position. Her helmet twisted violently half a turn, partially blinding her, as it reeled from the impact of what she suspected was a 7.62mm round. No pain though, which was good. 

A couple of heavy duty metal garbage bins lay up ahead, just yards away, and she made for them. 

Oskar had thrown himself onto the grass verge on the carpark's out skirts. He fumbled, as he often did, with the scope of his rifle; the muzzle flashes of Hannah's assailants were clearly visible. If she could keep them firing, then he could launch an ambush of his own. The problem was, the dumpsters she had thrown herself behind were whittling away under concentrated automatic fire.

A man's head, wrapped in a black bandanna, consumed Oskar's rifle scope, and he pulled the trigger. His rifle made a deafening explosion of thunder, but he did not flinch; he was already moving along the rooftop to the next bad guy. Another shot of his Winchester, and the scene was suddenly taken by silence. Either there were only two of the bastards, or their friends had gotten wise to the fact that a competent sniper - no, huntsman - was stalking them. 

[b]"Kylie,"[/b] whispered Oskar. [b]"I know you're exhausted, we all are, but that pharmacy is too good of an opportunity to pass up. I think Hannah is going in anyway, and I'll be damned if I let her go alone. Get back to the HUMVEE, see if you can get Cam's rifle, and then get back here."[/b]