[quote=@The DudeMan] Grant did his best to look around to where Bri was. [color=0076a3]"What are you doing?"[/color] His voice was a bit raspy when he answered her, [color=0076a3]"You need to get out of here."[/color] He could feel that he was getting colder and he knew that he was injured enough that he might slow her down and that was the last thing that he wanted. He knew that if she tried to untie him that it would leave her even more vulnerable to an attack from this guy and he couldn't have that. Of course he said he just wanted them to leave but could he really be trusted? He did hit Grant in the back of the head and then hog tie him. He could still feel the blood trickling down his head and dripping off the side, and he was sure at this point there was a sizable pool that had formed, those head wounds always bled so much. To Bri it must have looked awful. [color=0076a3]"Take my bag and go before he gets you too."[/color] He knew that she probably wouldn't listen but he also knew that she would know he was serious. Even in his worst moment his only priority was to protect her from danger, it was all that he could think about at the moment. [/quote] [quote=@deegee] Checkout Counter #6, Walmart, Framingham, Mass. She was close. Close enough that he could smell her. (Degree Antiperspirant, $3.99, aisle 3A.) Wait. Was that her? Blood on the floor. His. Grant-package's. (Band-Aid brand plastic coated self-adhesive bandages, box of 50, $5.99, aisle 3B.) No. Nonononononono... Not her. Something else, smelly. His focus was on them, on her... but his ears were elsewhere. (St. Elsewhere, box-set, season one, $29.99, aisle 28) [color=aba000]**quietly, almost hissing**[/color] [color=1a7b30]"not NOW, dammit..."[/color] He could pinpoint a sound now. It was in women's underthings, just inside the main entrance. [color=aba000]**still very, very quietly**[/color] [color=1a7b30]"Your fault. Your fault. Your. Fault. Yours. Bad. Yourfault. You and Grant-package. 'least two of them. Stinkers in the naughty garments. Leaker needs new hosiery... cleanup, aisle 2 please..."[/color] Very, very slowly, with his off-hand, Ryan reached into a coat pocket and withdrew a set of dikes (Milwaukee, $11.99, aisle 17, Automotive) and as he swivelled the wavering gun barrel toward the ladies' naughty garment section, held them out for the woman to take. Held them as if touching her or touching them while she touched them would mean certain transmission of cootiees. [color=1a7b30]"Cut him out. There'll be more coming. Always more. Always when there's fresh meat. Aisle 10. Delicatessen / Butcher..."[/color] [@The DudeMan] [@Lady of Lore] [/quote] Oh. Oh God, not NOW!! Dammit, they’d cleared the store! Where had they come from?! Of all the worst possible times… But of course it was now. Long before the world fell apart, people thought it cruel and unfair. Little did they know how good things were. [color=7bcdc8]“Quiet,”[/color] Bri hushed Grant as she swiped the pliers from the crazy-man’s hands and set them to work on the bonds holding her friend, whipping her head around every once in a while to check the surroundings… and the man with the gun. The way he spoke, the aisle numbers, something about him not being ‘done’ with something, made her wonder if he’d worked here before everything went to hell. Had he been here this whole time by himself? Could explain the severe mental instability— A wet, ragged groaning from the ‘naughty garments’ aisle interrupted her musings just as the pliers clipped through the last of Grant’s bonds. She almost flinched instinctively as something knocked over a stand, worried Gunman might lose it and pull the trigger by accident. Bri stuffed the pliers in her jacket pocket and crouched over Grant, hands gently but purposefully checking him for injuries. [color=7bcdc8]“Pain? Nausea? Sleepiness?”[/color] She found the gash in his head, patting it with a cotton pad. [color=7bcdc8]“Can you move? You may need to move…” [/color] Her heart was present, but her mind was already on the impending rotter situation. Grant was down. She’d HAVE to fight. No way around it. Could drag Grant to safer place if need be. Leave basket behind, can grab it once the risen are taken care of. The addition of Gunman made it more complicated. Unstable. Unpredictable. Unknown. Can’t trust to help her. Had to protect Grant from him, too. Her thought pattern ended abruptly, that adrenaline-fueled clarity kicking in. Hyper-aware of everything, she turned an ear upwards, listening. They were getting closer. [color=7bcdc8]“Stay down, G, I’ll be fine, ok?”[/color] she hissed at Grant as she tiptoed over to pick up her machete once more. Bri came to stand beside Gunman, but not too close, her movements slow and steady. [color=7bcdc8]“Hey,”[/color] she whispered, gesturing towards his gun with a shake of her head. [color=7bcdc8]“Too noisy. That’ll draw more, we need to stay quiet. Use something else. We need to hunt them down before they get to—”[/color] Too late. What rounded the corner looked more like giant moldy SPAM than something that used to be human. And it brought friends. Just four. But even one was dangerous enough. Bri didn’t hesitate as the small pack of rotters broke apart, two heading for Gunman, one with arms stretched out towards Bri in a death-hug. The last one gurgled from behind the others, awkwardly attempting to move forward. She glided towards ‘hers’, noting the ‘new item, half price’ tags dangling from its clothing, the way its gaping mouth hung at a weird angle as if its jaw was broken. She punched a hand against its chest to keep it at arms length, feeling its ribs give beneath her palm with a soggy SCRUNCH as she jammed the tip of her blade through the bottom of its jaw. It was an easy push upwards into the brain. Gore drizzled downwards. Bri waited for it to fall, smashed its head with her boot heel just to make sure, and turned around.