CDC, Fort Leonard (Collab Between finalcatharsis & Azseth)

Jon looked around and saw that outside of those in the immediate vicinity were talking and Kim seemed to be set on staying. Aside from the girl, Marianne, there were 3 others, 2 men and another woman. As Jon and Petra moved away from the armory and to the control room, the other group kind of moved and took their own supplies. Jon was hard pressed not to say anything but the truth was they'd need it all just as much as anyone else, and there was enough to go around. Will nodded to a few, but seemed silent for the most part. Harris was a disaster, loudly talking to anyone who'd listen and complaining while packing his stuff into his newly acquired bag. Jon recognized there was a building anxiety in Harris as the time of them leaving this place came closer. 

They were standing in front of the control room door in relative silence as Jon looked around. Under normal circumstances the entering of this information would be secret and either done in the presence of others with similar clearance, or private, but that didn't matter any more and would most likely raise more suspicion or questions. He decided however, that now would be a good time to interject some humor. "Everyone avert your gaze, this is Sector 9, G level classified. I'd hate to have to kill you." With a smirk, he slid his card and there were prompts identical to the last card ready, except it one paid attention, this time Jon entered a code completely different from the last and it differed by 1 digit.

The door made another series of clicks and thunks and then Jon opened the door. He was given a very quick reminder to be cautious and to keep your guard up because before the door was even opened fully, someone yelled "Fuck you Brad, mother fucker," even as two shots slammed into the door, one so close to his head he could hear the whirring of the ricochetting round.

Finally, the moment Petra had been waiting for - her chance to pull together some semblance of understanding. Her chance to find out why she'd been locked up for, for so long with no answers. The whole zombie thing seemed credible... but it couldn't actually be real, could it? She licked her lips as Jon typed in the code. Her eyes were wide in anticipation. The thought had just dawned on her that there might be someone inside. Sure it had been close to a week since her door had been opened for upkeep and she'd had any contact, but that was no reason to assume that the place remained unstaffed. And of course, there was that one dead guard already. Her chance for interrogation had died with him.

Jon warned her to be ready. If the earlier surprise repeated itself, then there was a good chance whoever was on the other side, if anyone, was armed and probably just as ready to shoot as the other guy had been. Petra untucked her newly acquired pistol and toggled the safety off. She changed the rhythm of her breathing to something much more slow, shallow, and deliberate. Something more like she practiced when she was doing some shooting up of another variety. Those images tried to force their way back in. The bloody children. [i]Just remember the training, Petra. Remember where you are. Don't forget how to fucking aim.[/i]

The door cracked and when she heard the person screaming on the other side, she was filled with surprise, confusion, and wonder all at the same time. There was someone there! But shit. He wanted to kill, just like the other man had. But none of them were Brad. Did that mean they had a chance to actually get in there and talk to the guy? Instinctively, Petra ducked down to the floor when she heard the gun shots, squatting all the way down until her backside reached the tile. Her right hand kept the pistol pointed at the door while her left made an attempt to cover her head. In the end, what would a hand do though?

Petra's eyes darted back and forth between the crack where the sound came from and Jon. They pleaded a bit with him. What was she supposed to do? It was the same as back then. She felt like a little kid who needed to be told what to do. [b]FUCK.[/b] He put his hand out, in a 'calm down' motion, then motioned for her to talk, making the gesture again with his hands.

"Don't shoot! We just want to talk!" The words came out before she really even had a chance to think about what she wanted to say. Petra manuevered herself onto her knees and free hand. She didn't hear words in response right away, but she could hear his panicked breathing, even through the small crack. Whoever he was, he was scared, maybe even hurt if she recognized that certain twinge of anxiety. With another brief glance to Jon as if to ask permission, she inched closer to the crack to try and peek through. Her right eye stayed shut tight while the left stretched as far open as it could and darted around trying to get what little bit of visual information it could. She saw booted feet. They paced in and out of view, occasionally stopping to face the door. Behind those she saw a body on the floor, or rather a torso, that lay motionless. The chest didn't rise and fall, which could only mean that whoever it was, was long gone from this world. There was a lot of red. Blood everywhere that she could see.

Petra craned her neck and took her eyes away from the opening so her lips could get closer. "Can we come in? Whoever Brad is, he's not out here and we just want to figure out what's going on. Are you hurt? We can help you. Just... Just slide the pistol over here or something."

Harris was between the door and his own room and almost had a heart attack as more shots rang out. He hit the floor and crawled into his room for safety and watched Will on the other side of the hallway press himself flat against the wall to stay out of the doors line of sight. Jon cursed himself for not having expected this, but without thinking his pistol was already in his hand and he watched and listened to both Petra and the man inside. He remember that Brad was the dead guard, so obviously something had transpired between the two. 

The man answered, "I ain't sliding out shit. I don't know you. Don't open the damn door another inch. All of you, just...go away." Jon could hear confusion in the mans voice, but he couldn't understand why, besides the fact that it wasn't Brad opening the door, but that should be a reason to be a bit less guarded. Then he decided to speak up. "Brad's dead."

"What?!? Are they here?"

Jon looked at Petra questioningly and cocked his head at an awkward angle, not sure how to answer the question. "Look, when the doors opened up, he opened fire on us. He's dead now. We're not Brad. He's laying here, under a sheet." There was no answer for a long time and Jon had no idea if the man was moving to the door, sleeping, or dead.

"Alright!" Petra released a sigh, when the man uttered the word. She put her left eye back to the crack and realized he was a lot closer to the door now. She watch as he bent over and set the fun down right at the crack. In her mind, it felt like a great victory. She smiled and leaned into the door with her right shoulder to widen the crack just enough to pull the gun out. She slid it back down the hallway, far beyond their little group.

"Now, back the fuck up and let me open the door!" Petra rose back up to her feet slowly and moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Jon. She didn't know what to do at this point. This was where the Peacekeepers would take over. But he wasn't exactly a Peacekeeper, was he? He was a computer nerd. But at least it seemed his heart and mind were in the right place. "I want to confirm that motherfucker is dead!"

The crack in the door grew wider and wider, and in seconds, the man inside filled the entryway. Jon had never seen him before, but he could tell the man had seen better days. He was pale and part of his head looked burned and scabbed over at the same time, and there was blood running down his neck slowly. Whatever had happened to him, it was fresh, and based on the conversation earlier, it was most likely Brad who did this. The next apparent thing that became obvious to Jon is that this man was going to die, soon. Somehow, he found the strength to stand up, and before he took a chance to acknowledge anyone, he stood on his tip toes so he could see beyond all of them and to the sheet on the ground. Of course, he couldn't see the guys face, but he could tell from the arms sticking out and from the boots placed on top of the sheet that it had to Brad. The uniform matched. He looked at the sheet for a good minute before his gaze turned on Petra. He bit nervously at his lip while his eyes bounced from person to person. When he'd had his fill, he turned to go back into the room and found one of the swivel chairs. He plopped down tiredly and cross an arm over his belly. 

Petra glanced up at Jon, then followed in behind the guy. She moved as close as she could to him without causing alarm. She was actually able to get a lot closer than she thought, a foot in front of him, but off to the side. Maybe he didn't feel too threatened by her. Or maybe he was too tired. This put her a lot closer to the other dead body in the room. Her eyes combed over it for a few seconds before they turned back on the living body.

"What happened here? Why has there been no contact for a week?"

He took a deep breath and sighed as he released, and Jon could recognize that the sound of that sigh was one of resignation. "Clean up. That's how Brad lost it. All he cared about was himself. He's the one who smashed the monitors." All of the 1st and 2nd floor monitors were smashed behind them while all of the 3rd floors were working. "He didn't want to, I 'unno, share? He wanted to live more than anything. That's what killed him in the end huh?"

"Did you kill him," Jon motioned to the other body on the floor. 

"No. Brad too. Tried to kill me too. Guess he did really, just not like he wanted. I have a favor to ask."

At this point, he was rambling quickly and seemed to talk about anything but whatever he was asked to answer. Quickly however, Petra answered him. "Anything, just. Calm down, tell us." 

"Don't let me turn. Fucking monsters, don't wanna be a fucking monster." 

Jon answered him this time, "you didn't do anything, none of this was your fault." 

If the guard heard anything, he didn't say it. He kept talking, reaching up and tapping himself on the forehead, looking at Jon's pistol. "Right here. Just right here. Don't miss. I'm not coming back."

Jon and Petra both looked at one another, and without missing a beat, suddenly the guard started screaming, looking at Petra. Harris and Will watched from the back of the door, trying to stay at a safe distance, but the man screaming made them nervous. "GET OUT WOMAN! NOW. I'll fucking kill you, all of you. Don't you understand?" Then he looked to Jon, "right here," he tapped his head again.

"Alright, alright. Just take it easy, ok?" Petra took a few steps back in the hopes of putting him at ease. She held her left hand up as if in surrender. Her right hand remained loosely gripped around the pistol.

The man sat up straight in his chair as she began to back away and said, "I'm gunna reach for my piece, and you're gunna kill me, or I'll kill you all."

Jon opened his mouth to say something but the man, true to his word, reached behind him and without much thought, and with no hesitation, Jon fired 3 times. Two to the chest, one to the head. 

The revolver fell from his lifeless hands, clattering on the floor. There were no bullets in it.

"DON'T," Petra yelled just as soon as he reached behind him and the first shots were fired. It was meant as an instruction to both men, however vain an attempt. She hadn't been standing far enough away to avoid the blood splatter it hit her. Most of the liquid was absorbed into her clothing, but she could definitely feel some of the wetness on her face. She looked at the man who now slumped back in the chair, lifeless. Unlike before, her eyes immediately started to water. This was just too much... first being locked away for months, then having to watch two people die. On top of that, she had no idea what was going on. No idea where to even start at this point.

Petra felt a few tears skim over her cheeks. She wiped both palms over her face, smearing in some of the blood with the tears. She looked at the two behind her, then to Jon with wrinkled brows and half-closed, depressed eyes. Her body ached for physical contact, for someone to hold her. It had been far too long. But where was she going to get that in this place?

"What the fuck..." She mumbled. It was the only response she could muster at this point. She'd been gung-ho to get answers from the start, but that was falling away now. Petra sniffed and pulled the back of her hand under her running nostrils. Her knees felt weak, but when she felt them start to cave, she kept it to a slight wobble and pushed herself to move forward, back toward the corpse. There was something sticking out of one of his breast pockets that had drawn her attention when he'd originally sat down. Some type of notebook. When she reached him, she tucked her gun away once more and reached out with trembling fingers to pull it free. One of the corners had been stained with blood from one of the slugs to the chest. It was spiral bound on one side and there was an elastic band that held it closed at the bottom. When she unbound the side, some pages fell out and onto the floor. She bent down to grab them and discovered they were actually pictures; two of them. His family, maybe?

Petra flipped through the pages of the notebook hoping to find something, anything that could help her understand why any of this was happening. She thumbed through the last few pages which collectively read: The first and second floors are lost. Dead everywhere. Barricaded the door to the third. The outside is gone. I don't think I'll ever see my family again.

It's just us now, and all of the people up here. They said they were going to send help, but it's been days since our last contact. We ran out of time. The doors are opening today. Brad is jumpy. Me and Horace are trying keep him calm, but it's no use. I'm afraid of what he might do.

Jennifer, I love you. I think I'm dying. Brad killed Horace and tried to kill me too. He's going after the others. There's nothing I can do. But if he tries to come back in, I'll get him one way or the other - with bullets or teeth.

Jon didn't want to kill the man, but there really was no choice. With everything that was going on, the one thing that suddenly hit Jon was the gravity of the entire situation. He stood there, gun shaking in his hand under the false image of a man in shock over just killing a man, but the truth was that he'd mentally moved past that the moment he fired the shot. 

It was obvious to him now that things had gone terribly wrong and right now, it was just not a matter of finding out if they were fucked or not, it was simply finding out how fucked they were and formulating a plan based on that. He still held the gun out, moving only when Petra came into view. "I'm.... Sorry."

Harris and Will both saw the whole thing and both were in shock. Despite Will's training and his attitude, he was young. Sure he'd seen deaths on TV, video games and movies, but this was another dead man, a real one. And this one was different. The other guard was kind of a no brainer, but this guy, he didn't seem murderous or deserving of death.

He just seemed scared.

Harris in the mean time was in a further state of shock and he simply slid down to the floor, shaking, and staring at his feet. 

As Petra silently read the piece of paper, Jon slowly put his pistol away and looked around the room. All of the monitors of this floor were on and he looked around, even seeing the control room in one of the monitors as he viewed his back. Something was screaming out to his subconscious as he looked from monitor to monitor. All the rooms were visible, the hallway, as were Jon, Petra, Will and Harris. He could see Bradley's still form under the sheet. 

Then he realized, he didn't see anyone else. In a quiet but stern voice, he asked "where'd the others go?"