[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=steelblue]Ash Holloway[/color][/b][/i][/h1] [img]http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a203/D__S/michael%20biehn/american%20dragons/tonyluca3.png[/img][/center] [hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Crash Site [/center][hr][hr] Someone else very near to Ash had fallen. This time, not so much of an emotional connection as it was a proximal one - the odd Cossack died directly in front of him as he was climbing across the downed tree, slipping in someone else's blood and getting a brainfull of freshly splintered tree branch. It should have been shocking to Ash. He should have been taken aback, repulsed, something. Instead, the initial reaction was to snap his head up, as someone might if they heard a nearby, unidentified sound. When he saw that the newcomer was completely limp, not even so much as a leg spasm to indicate firing nerves or biological protest, the weary Captain just sighed. This death was fast and merciful. Pointless, but significantly less tragic than many ways he could have gone. It did seem a shame; the man had traveled for a long while, suffering much in his time since the Outbreak. All he wanted was a home, family, friends. The day that he found it just happened to be the day that he put his foot in the wrong spot and died, purely by misadventure. [color=steelblue]"I am goddamned sick of death."[/color] growled Ash, taking one more hack at the branch upon which he was working. It fell from the trunk, providing him unrestricted access to the still-warm body of The Great Bazhooli. He got a firm hold on the broad-shouldered man and heaved him from his arboreal impaler, laying him upon the ground nearby. [color=steelblue]"We have more dead than wounded. Great. Alright, we get the living first. There are two couches in the dump body of the 'Buster. Let's move them there. Plenty more room than the back of that truck. Our fallen next. I have a big, blue tarp we can use for cover."[/color] His tone was methodical, even cold. It wasn't heartlessness that inspired it, more than a sort of emotional anesthetic common to men of his former occupation. There was a job to do. If it didn't get done, even more people would die. It wasn't the healthiest habit to have, but it did help in the meantime. Of course, in the recesses of his brain, a part of him impotently slammed his fists against a stone wall, hitting until knuckles split and blood ran, raging tempests against the hell of their circumstance. It wasn't fair. Just wasn't. It wasn't fair that Alicia died. Nor Leann, nor Caesar, nor Lorna. Nor anyone else under his watch, and many followed. Names and faced swirled, threatening to overwhelm his capacity to hold back emotion in the face of duty. [color=steelblue][i]Not yet, Captain. Cry on your own time. We aren't done yet.[/i][/color] The instant of emotion on Ash's face fell away, replaced by stone. [color=steelblue]"Got a job to do. Let's move."[/color] As if to get the ball rolling, the grim man maneuvered Bazhooli's corpse into a fireman's carry, and rolled him to the other side of the tree. [color=steelblue]"Clear path, time to do this."[/color] [hr][hr][center][h1][color=firebrick]Black James(!)[/color][/h1] [img]https://v.cdn.vine.co/r/avatars/6AE78329E91063505631975227392_pic-r-1396533712688c4afde8ecf.jpg.jpg?versionId=ZnGOSit0zozlhxpJk0w6QVx4cSozVRdq[/img][/center] [hr][center][b]Location:[/b] North Gate [/center][hr][hr] [color=firebrick]"How y'all doing, Miss Lady?"[/color] began James, just slightly out of breath from his unwanted jog to the Northern Gate. He had his 9mm out but pointed to the ground, and kept his voice friendlyish. When he saw one of the guys on Security recover her pistol and the gate shut, he holstered his own weapon. [color=firebrick]"Aight, if'n you be as kind, hold open that jacket an' give us a spin, k?"[/color] James was kind of new at this. Mostly, he made sure that things were growing and meat was good and smoky. [color=firebrick]"Look, I ain't the usual guy at this. Here's what happens most the time: We keep a guard on you 'till the Head Guy can ask you some questions. We got one building with the air conditioning, we bring folks first. Ask some questions, like why you here n'such. So, 'less you wanna stand right there for a long time or walk back out, you need come with us."[/color] [color=firebrick]"Name of James. Most folks call me Black James, sure you can guess why. Hey! You hungry?"[/color] He began to walk back to the inner gate, conscious of the fact that a stranger was in their midst. The casual manner in which he acted was in no small part due to the fact that there were people he trusted with firearms at the ready, very nearby. [color=firebrick]"Don't worry there, Miss. Whenever you wanna go, you can go. Hey, what's that name again?"[/color]