[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] Gilbert Street, in front of Building [b]1[/b]
[/center][hr][hr]

	[color=steelblue]"Copy on Smokey Road, undead hostiles in force."[/color] Ash indeed [i]did[/i] answer the satellite phone. [color=steelblue]"Hole up someplace if you can. We're coming hot and fast."[/color] He hung up the phone and began walking across the street to his baby, the gigantic piece of utility machinery that one of his wayward women referred to quite unaffectionately as a "Big Diesel Dumptrain. Well, the joke's on her. That sweet, lifesaving truck was about to pull her bacon out of the fire in short order. Ash greatly wished that the Internet was still functional, mostly so that he could watch video of his Hordebuster flinging away an endless succession of shambling corpses, to and fro in the dying light of the evening. 

	He was stopped by Meghna, offering to run as a scout. It was a first for her. Ash flashed a look of concern for a half second, but quickly dismissed it. [color=steelblue]"Grab a light vehicle that you're [i]extremely[/i] comfortable maneuvering. Wait for us at the gate."[/color]

	At that moment, the explosion rocked downtown Newnan, originating at the Armory. This was no small cause for alarm. In the event that this was an attack (again), Ash pulled his .45 and scanned the area. Through his radio, he rather loudly inquired, [color=steelblue]"Someone tell me what's going on. Is anyone hurt?"[/color] 

[hr][hr][center][h1][i][b][color=c0c0c0]The Great Bazhooli[/color][/b][/i][/h1]
[img]https://img.roleplayerguild.com/prod/users/f619b8f0-bb27-4eb3-8056-c98ba46ea9fa.png[/img][/center]
[hr][center][b]Location:[/b] Gilbert Street, in front of Building [b]1[/b] -> Headed North on LaGrange Street
[/center][hr][hr]

	The Great Bazhooli had deftly stowed his knives and was in process of checking his rifle when the BOOM occurred. He instinctively dropped low, looking for someplace to tuck and roll into and/or behind. For a moment, his mind's eye saw the destruction of his Circus's touring train. He wasn't particularly eager for the same thing to happen to his new home (or what he hoped was going to be his new home). 

	His very recent friend posed the blaringly obvious question, "Any idea what's going on?". Were he a second or two later with the inquiry, Bazhooli surely would have asked first. He shook his head for a bit before actual words came from his mouth. [color=c0c0c0]"Not knowing, Mr. Jack. Is giant boom, I know same as you."[/color] At least they weren't getting shot at. [color=c0c0c0]"Ve go help, da?"[/color] It was less of a question than it was a statement that they should. But of course, he didn't figure that Jack had to be convinced. He didn't seem to be that type of person. 

	The Great Bazhooli pulled on his grey, bear fur coat and began to run toward the source of the offending noise. As it turned out, that was exactly where they were headed in the first place. Maybe he could help, maybe he couldn't. But, much as before, there was no way in hell he was going to stick around and juggle bowling pins while something urgent was going down. 

[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] Building [b]C[/b] (His House) -> Building [b]6[/b], Armory
[/center][hr][hr]

	So, James's day was eventful. Started out that way, continued with smokey meats, kept going with a running tally of drama over the radio. Now here he was, admiring his monster of a Sniper System/Anti-Materiel Rifle when an explosion from the floor just below knocked him off of his feet. 

	[color=firebrick]"Boy oh boy, this shit rains, it muthafuckin' pours, don't it?"[/color] he mumbled to himself. James looked around, surprised that there was anything of him left. An explosion [i]inside the armory[/i] had the potential for far more carnage than an errant grenade lobbed almost anyplace else in town. Well, except maybe Ash's distillery storage. That would be a loss on multiple levels, in James's estimation. All the same, the ringing in his ears chased out any other bits of rational thought. He struggled to pick himself back up off of the floor. 

	By the time he was upright, James saw Tom getting carted off. No armorer, explosion in the building. He had half a mind to grab as many munitions as possible and sprint for the door, the other half to merely get as far from this building as possible. Absently, he spoke into his walkie. The first few words weren't his strongest, but they steadied as he went on. [color=firebrick]"Hey, ...hey, anybody, umm... Big 'splosion  in the Armory basement. Tom is down but not out. Ash, Zoie, what y'all need me to do? I'm inside at ground zero."[/color]