J-Day +1

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[Wallace]

OOC: It's not a school bus, it's a big metropolitan bus or city bus or whatever they call it.
Unbelievably, I did a quick search to find a good picture and found a youtube video of these buses at work: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=npyhL3LnwdI
Just don't ask me what the guy is doing lying on the ground kicking the front wheel of his car. If it is indeed his car.

IC:
Chad glanced over his shoulder at Vito for a second with a grimace. "I'm a pro dirtbike jumper and part-time stunt driver slash pilot. If it's got wheels I can handle it."
He turned the wheel to evade a car on the middle of the road but it just scraped the front bender. Out the door Vito and Chad could see the white palstic of the headlight litter the street. Chad shrugged. "As long as I'm not distracted by the aftermath of a robot-instigated nuclear holocaust. Keep your eyes open, will ya?"
As you passed a side street going a steady 30 miles per hour, the driver glanced at his closest passenger again. "That was 10th Avenue, next is 11th and then we're there. Go tell them to get ready, back there."

Vito stood and moved to the back but he wasn't there yet when Chad was slowing the bus down and stopping in the middle of the intersection. "This is it! Where's the bomb shelter?"
Looking out the windows you could see a building on each corner.
In the north-east corner was a white small one-story building with a blue "US Bank" on the front. The north-west corner was a larger one-story building with several signs reading "CHECKS CASHED", "PAYDAY ADVANCE" and, surprisingly, "Louisiana Fried Chicken." The south-west and east corners were, respectively, occupied by a Shell gas station and a Smog Pros repair shop.

[JonAllen]

Intersection..buildings...options...Terminators...no time.

Those were the variables at play. It was a shell game with a gun pointed at your head.

As Chad declared they were at their destination, the conversation between Aaron and Elana was cut short. The latino woman surveyed the area and contemplated their strategy.

"It'll be below ground," Elana declared as she surveyed the intersection through the bus windows. "A basement maybe."

She yelled forward, "Chad, park us at the gas station then kill the engine, we're going to check the pumps while we're here!"

As Chad got to work, Elana said, "Aaron isn't very mobile, so he'll stay with the bus, but I need someone else to stay with the bus in case they need to move it, and to check that gas station for fuel. We'll top the tank if we can."

"Aaron, guard the bus and keep an eye out, Vito you too, see if you can get anything out of the pumps, between the two of you, you have one radio, so stay within earshot of each other," Elana declared. "Chad, Ezra and I will start checking the buildings. We'll start with the bank over there. If I were a survivor avoiding nuclear fire and fallout a bank vault would be a tempting hiding place. If we find any survivors we bring them back to the bus and Ezra will start treatment of the injured."

She quickly added, "Remember, a working bus is a tempting target, not just for the Terminators, but for any scared survivors who want a way out. If a lot of people start to head this way, you call us immediately. I don't mind survivors coming to us, but I want to make sure we have enough firepower on-hand so somebody with a shotgun doesn't gets any smart ideas of robbing us so he can get out of LA."

Elana drew her 9mm pistol from the pistol on her hip, which already had a magazine loaded. She pulled a spare magazine out of the pouch on her LAPD belt.

She turned and handed both to Vito.

"If there's an emergency, if the radio doesn't work, one of you fire three shots," Elana added. "Remember those HKs can see infrared, and this bus's engine is hot. If you spot a patrol coming this way, get off the bus and find cover. Aaron, feel free to take a swig but keep Vito away from the booze. We'll all get hammered later when we've got something to celebrate"

"Chad, Ezra," she said. "Take with you whatever you think we might need. Explosives, flashlights, anything."

As Elana finished speaking, she was already standing up and slinging the M-16 over her shoulder. She also reached for one of the rucksacks containing as much of the extra stuff that they'd brought. She made sure one of the explosives was in there plus the remote detonator, in case they needed to breach any doors or walls. She began to strap on the rucksack.

"Any questions?" she asked.

[Wallace]

OOC: Aaron is not incapacitated, btw. Just very injured. Down to 5 hit points. In game terms he's fine, there are no penalties or somesuch.

IC:
As Elana started giving orders, Chad gently pushed down the gas pedal and brought the bus around in a wide arc until it was right underneath the gas station's overhanging roof. He shut the engine off, opened the doors and tossed the keys to Aaron. "We've still got about half a gas tank. And it's a big tank."
With shotgun in hand he stepped off the bus and walked to the edge where he crouched near a bush and watched all four ways down the intersections. "Looks clear!" He shouted over his shoulder and waited for Ezra and Elana to catch up.

[JonAllen]

"Alright, Ezra, stay behind me," Elana stated. "Chad when we enter rooms, you check left, I'll check right."

Elana was accustomed to room clearing as a police officer. She didn't have time to give the others a lesson, so she was going with the basics.

"Lets sweep the bank, first floor first, looking for vaults, barricaded doors, basements, any hiding places," Elana added.

She began a slow but steady jog towards the bank.

[CovenantSpiff]

Chad gave his request, and Vito was quick to get the attention of others. It was an odd feeling, suddenly having a modicum of responsibility. He did not watch Elana as she gave her instructions, but he listened to the whole series, locking the important parts away into his memory. The scene outside was as quiet, for now, as the liquor store had been, with no vile robots in sight. Though listening, he did not at first understand what the police officer was doing, and he took the offered weapon hesitantly.
"Uh, okay." he said, and he began to reach behind himself. In a jerky movement he refrained from putting the gun comfortably into the small of his back, and stretched his arm at his side. "What am I supposed to...? No, no, dumb question." There was nothing else he needed to carry, and Vito was first to hop out of the vehicle. He made his way over to the pumps, just in case there was power. Of course there was not, and he began to contemplate his options. When the others followed him out, he remarked, "At least we have cover, maybe those flying machines will be less likely to spot us. Anybody ever open up one of those gas holes, to the tank?"
He began to think, stepping over to the lid in the pavement where the refill trucks would stop. It appeared impervious, but then, what else did he have to do? He began to look around for a crowbar, or an axe, or any other object he could use to lift the metal or break the surrounding asphalt.

[Mazzic]

The doctor, after safely stowing his salvaged impromptu-antiseptics settled down for the next ride. He was glad for the break - almost being killed took a lot out of a man. But soon enough they were exited once again, this time to find a bomb shelter.

I hope we find survivors. Humanity's fate wasn't looking it's best and everyone would be needed to take down the machines. If things were as bad as he suspected world-wide, it would be a task in itself of re-populating the world after the war. Well, if there is an after.

Raising his rifle once again he nodded to Elana, more than glad to be letting her take point. He had no interest in taking a shot from an over-eager survivor and he would be better at patching her up than vice-versa.

[Wallace]

OOC: This story-like post is through the eyes of KD's Character, Aaron.

IC:
There they go, passing the burned-out cars with the skeletons at the wheel. They're not stopping to bury the dead. There's no time to bury them, just too many. Way too many. Careful going in there, Chad, might be another lunatic with a gun. Some fat bank security guard who can't get his fix of sugar-glazed donuts.
They're gone, they'll probably be in there for a while.
What's our new friend doing? Did he just take off?
I grab my gun by the barrel and use it for support as I make it for the door. The pain in my side is never-ending so I take a moment to rest, sitting on the bottom step of the bus exit. The place is a mess, I can see shattered glass, half-molten plastic, rubber shreds and metal junk all over the tarmac, all around the cars. Vito is coming back with a crowbar and purposefully strides to the side of the building. He is trying to get the lid off the refill station. What is he going to do? Suck the gas out with some straw? That stuff is at least 10 feet below if they lived up to the new regulations. Not a lot of brains in this one.
Is that a prison tat on his arm? Did Elana see that? She suddenly got very trusting, very quick. We don't know anything about this guy.
Then again, I don't know much about anyone's history before this happened. We're all leading a new life. We've all got to change. Some more than others. Vito is no exception. Maybe trust is what he needs. Or maybe not. I should go tell him he's wasting his time. We should go looking for something to eat in that shop. No, drinks first. You'll die of thirst before you die of starvation. Good old Discovery Channel. If only we had Bear Grylls with us today. I wonder if he's alive.
Who am I kidding? Bear Grylls would survive the planet ripping in half.
Come on, let's get something to drink before I dozed off and fall asleep. Up we go, just clench your teeth to bite through the pain. And then just one step at a time.
I shout to Vito. "Let's see if they have nachos." Stop buggering about with that lid, it's not coming off. "And keep that crowbar, we may need it later." For ramming it into a terminator's sensor equipment, or whatever they have.
Careful with my step here, that crunching glass is not ideal for moving about. If I slip now I'll have even more scrapes to worry about. Alright, let's take a basket here and see what we they've got. Ooh, beanie hats, might finally keep the hair out of my face. I pull the blue one over my hair and look to Vito. "How do I look?"
Whatever. Better than greasy unwashed hair.
Aisle 1, crisps and cookies. Let's grab a few bags of Cheetos and some cans of Pringles. Chocolate chip cookies for the women and kids. If there are any. Ah there, right next to the tea biscuits.
The fridges, beer, pop and dairy. Let's forget the milk, it's probably bad. And we've got drinks. Some fresh water would be nice. Just need a couple of bottles.
"Aargh!" Damn, that hurts. The pain, I think I'm going to black out here. Call for Vito. Damnit, stop coughing .. and call .. for .. Vito.



OOC: Okay, *snap*, back to reality.
Equipment thread has been updated.

IC:
Bank:
Chad pushed the door open with his shoulder keeping his shotgun level while he paused for a moment until he had adjusted to the darker circumstances inside and he could survey the surroundings. The teller's counters stretched from left to right through the lobby but there was nobody behind the bullet-proofed glass. Part of the building had collapsed when the nuclear blast hit the side of the building, the roof had come down and tore the wall down. The lack of bodies in the lobby was either a good or a bad sign, but for now they had to find the vault.
Where the counters stopped and the wall continued, there was a door with an "Employees Only" sign and an electronic keypad. Where the lobby's right side stopped was a bathroom door. The ATM machines were lined up around the corner and on the other side of the double doors a chair was knocked over and a half-eaten sandwich had been dropped next to a latest copy of FHM magazine.
Chad walked on towards a small central counter which had been knocked over. Insurance brochures lay scattered over the ground along with the shattered glass and candy of a candy jar as well as a flower piece.


Snack Shop:
After Aaron had shouted to Vito that he was going to see if they had nachos, the man realised that he was making futile attempts at striking oil. He walked into the shop and watched as the scavenger with a basket under his arm pulled on a blue beanie hat with the price tag still dangling from it. Soon after he was walking down the aisle and then was shouting in pain and coughing before he collapsed.
Aaron started waking up again.


OOC:
I'll allow Spiff to be a little more descriptive in the scene with Aaron so that there's some interaction there. Aaron is not knocked out cold, he's just fainted from some unknown cause or combination of causes (heat, exhaustion, pain, dehydration. Any or all, really.)

[CovenantSpiff]

Vito found the garage mostly intact, and spotted a crowbar hanging undisturbed on the wall. It would take some effort to get the tanks open, but he had to try. He spotted Aaron on the step of the bus, and said nothing; though the man winced in obvious pain. He started to work at the gas lid; it was tight, but he hoped with a few good swings he could chip away the tarmac and get a bite with the end. He must look like an idiot, but the economics of the world had suddenly changed. Gas, he thought, was now gold.

The injured man got up and walked towards the store. What was Aaron thinking? That guy was one tough player, or a fool, and as he walked Vito kept a cursory eye on him. Of course the place would have nachos; there was no reason to answer that statement, but after a moment Vito changed his mind. "They should have some nachos. Make sure you grab some salsa to go with, we need to enjoy it while we can." He did not know much about medicine, but if the movies had taught him anything about pain and shock, he needed to keep the victim talking. Vito had no idea what would happen if Aaron checked out, and so he indulged the conversation. "Yeah, a crowbar comes in handy...see anything good?" He hollered through the open door. Aaron appeared at the entrance a moment later with a beanie halfway on his head, Vito thought he looked like a little off, but assumed the pained fellow had hindrances to his motor control. "Good 'nough to cruise the strip, pick up some babes man. You might fit as a skater, what with that injury thing you have going on." He had stopped his work for the chat, but as soon as Aaron turned back in the store he went back to attacking the pavement. He heard a pained holler a minute later, and through the large windows saw Aaron take a dive. Dropping the crowbar, Vito bolted for the store. At first he panicked, but again the movies in the slammer had done him some good, mostly his mind rotted with television, but some good nonetheless. He reached into a nearby cooler and retrieved a large bottle of water, this he opened and began dumping on Aaron's face. "Come on dude, sleep on the bus!" I hope this works!


OOC:
Can Vito's ranks in structural engineering help at all with finding a way to the gas tank? IRL I am a bit perplexed as to how to remedy this situation, but I figure if the port is open, a small bucket or even flexible hose section sealed at one end could be dropped in to function as a well.

[JonAllen]

Following Chad into the bank, Elana squinted slightly as her eyes adjusted. The bank was half collapsed, or at least the roof was.

She had her M-16 in her arms, the stock into her shoulder but the barrel lowered slightly. The hispanic police officer surveyed the landscape and considered their options.

"Chad, look for stairways up or down," she said. "Ezra, see if you can bust that employee door open."

Elana stayed between her two comrades, ready to spring to the aid of either of them. The place seemed quiet, empty, almost spooky really. Though that was hardly new to any of them given all that had happened and how much their world had changed.

She began to look for signs of hiding places such as vaults or basements.

As she searched, she decided to call out. They needed to hurry and for all they knew there might be survivors hiding or sleeping somewhere nearby. They didn't have time to search every nook and cranny in the bank.

"Hello! Is anyone in here!?! We're rescuers, is anyone here!?!" she shouted as she stood inside the bank. Then she quietly listened for a response as she searched the room further.

Actions: search the room

[KnightDisciple]

Aaron had started feeling off ever since he stood up and started walking.

Now, slowly shaking himself back to consciousness, he wished Bear Grylls would show up to help.

Wait, where the hell did that come from.

"Ugh. Voice down, Vito. No need to shout. Help me stand up. We really do need to grab whatever we can. Priority is water. As much as we can grab. All of it. Leave the booze, milk, and so on. Anything that'll go bad, or ultimately dehydrate. No pop. Look for breads and cereals. Let's find some bags or carts or something. We need to keep grabbing things."

Mid-stride to follow his own advice, he stops, putting a hand to his head, then shaking it off.

"Oh, and, you know, watch out for the killer robots. They suck."

Actions: Search for more bags and baskets. Then gather everything that won't go bad over the next day in the heat. As well as any useful non-food items. If this is one of the better-stocked places, it should have loads of stuff.

[Mazzic]

"Will do." An electronic keypad in a post-apocalyptic world wasn't going to stop them from getting through a door. At least, not a door in a bombed out bank. If the door was also guarded by a few machines, it'd be a different case. But this? No big deal. Ezra approached the door and considered the lock. First things first, he attempted to simply open the door. After all, you never know.

OOC: If it doesn't work...

Raising his rifle he fired once at the keypad and attempted to open the door once again.

[Wallace]

The wooden bench creaks. It is an old bench in an old shelter. It was probably built shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor when the West coast seemed in more imminent danger than ever before. And after for that matter. Until yesterday.
The light is dim. The battery in it hasn't been changed for decades, it probably won't last much longer before the people in the shelter are in complete darkness.
Max whines impatiently. He's not happy from all the sitting around. He wants to go up and about. For a moment he perks up and turns his attention to the hatch above the ladder. He gets up and walks to the ladder and stands looking up and then glances back once.

He suddenly tries to get everyone's attention. "Woof!"

People rise and stir. They listen quietly and then it becomes more clear. Voices. Others. People. Survivors.


Bank:
Ezra was glad he didn't have to fire any rounds as the door was ajar and he pushed it open to gain entrance to the office. He swept the area and saw nothing underneath the teller counters and nobody sitting behind a desk. Computer screen were off, nothing moved, there was no sound except Elana shouting out. The doctor saw the vault through a door opening. A thick heavy metal thing with a eight handles on a wheel at the center of it. There were two doors to the right.

Then they heard it, a dog's bark, but the direction was confusing and hard to pinpoint.



Snack Shop:
Scavenge check
Aaron: 6 + 8 = 14
Vito: 17 + 3 = 20
Modifiers: +15 never been scavenged, +2 Aid Another
20 +15 +2 = 37

Found:
Flashlight
6 packets of cookies
10 gallons of gas
3 bottles of water (1 liter)

Aaron didn't cooperate to get back to the bus so Vito once again went outside to struggle with his underground fuel tank problem. As he did he past the workshop and noticed a jerrycan filled to the brim with gas. Without thinking twice he picked it up and looked for the fuel tank on the bus. No sooner was he filling it did Aaron come out of the shop look paler than before but triumphant with a full basket of food and water on each arm. And a flashlight he had found under the counter next to the decaying corpse of the gas station attendant. He was obviously not going to need it any longer.


OOC:
I don't want Vito in succeeding to get fuel from the underground tank. We're in survival mode at the moment and I don't want you being busy with pumping oil or lugging it around. Once we get through the first episode we will fast forward into the future and the Resistance will be self-sufficient thus ending the need for checking out every shop and  gas station that hasn't collapsed yet. (Unless I find a way of making things so hard on you that you have to do it in the middle of a mission just to survive or succeed, but by then you'll probably be more interested in ways to make bombs than fresh water.)

[JonAllen]

Elana paused to listen for any kind of response to her call, but all she heard was a distant barking dog somewhere.

She saw some restrooms and then whatever Ezra was stepping towards. As Elana moved forward, she peered over Ezra's shoulder and saw that the door opened into a second wide room with more doors and possibly a thick vault.

"Following you Ezra," Elana said. "You start checking left past the door, that one that might be a vault, I'll check right. Chad, check those bathrooms then follow us."

As Elana stepped through the door, she saw three doors, one ahead of her and two to her right. She began opening each door one at at time, starting with the closest. The hispanic woman was fixated on looking for survivors, but she kept an eye out for other useful items as well. Large items would be difficult to haul, but small things like batteries, flashlights or first aid kits would be useful. If they had more time, they could probably extract some neat security cameras, wiring and other equipment, but that would require more dismantling time than they had to spare. For once, Elana could care less about money. That irony wasn't lost on her.

Elana used her left hand to open doors, keeping the M-16 in her right so she could pull it up into firing position quickly if she needed to. She checked each of the doors to her right in turn, exploring the unexplored regions of the bank.

[Killjoy]

Boyd sat on the floor in the corner of the shelter, his back against a tall wooden shelf that was lined with decades-old canned goods. Across from him sat two serious looking middle-school boys, one far too skinny to be healthy and the other quite a bit too fat. The two boys had taken a liking to Boyd's easy manner the moment the door to the shelter had been closed. Most of the other adults just stood in abject silence, staring up at the hatch . . . like statues, for the better part of the last 24 hours. Boyd, however, tried his best to keep the mood light. "We don't know what's happened yet," he repeated about a hundred times, usually just after someone pronounced their collective doom. "Let's not jump to conclusions." And whenever someone got panicky or difficult, Boyd was the one who tried to cool everyone down and to sooth frayed nerves. "Just because the world has ended, don't mean we can't be civil." It was a terrible attempt at humor, but after the tenth time he said it, people started to laugh with him.

Boyd's seeming bravado in the face of the apocalypse drew the teenage boys to him like bees to honey. The truth was, however, Boyd wasn't the least bit brave. He was simply in complete denial. This was all going to be over soon; he was sure of it. In a few hours they would poke their heads out, find out it had been an industrial explosion of some sort, and then they'd all feel very sill for being so scared and believing that the world had ended. There was just no way, no way in hell that the world could have ended while Boyd was on the way to the bank. It was all just a little too mundane for Armageddon.

"This is gonna hurt, boys."

The handsome young Boyd held up his portion of the deck of cards and slammed down the top card from off the deck onto the pile of cards on the floor between him and his opponents. It was a King to match the King on the top of the pile.

"I de-clare war!" they all chanted in unison, dealing out cards with each syllable. The fat kid turned over an Ace as he said, "war." The skinny boy turned over a seven, and Boyd turned over a two. He looked up at the fat kid. "That's just wrong, boy. So wrong. I'm your elder and you're treating me this way. You just gonna take my cards like that. Show some respect." Boyd was smiling as he said it, and both the boys grinned back.

Boyd readied his deck to continue the seemingly endless three-way game of War when Max let out a stiff "Woof!" Everyone jumped, including Boyd. Instinctively, Boyd snapped his fingers and hissed, "Sssssssst" Max stopped short of another bark and looked at his master. But then the dog turned a circle at the foot of the ladder, looked up, and barked again.

In the silence that followed, the survivors in the shelter heard voices coming from above. Boyd dropped his cards and jumped to his feet. "Would you listen to that? That'll brighten your day!" He delivered both boys a playful swat to the tops of their heads. "There's people out there. Probably come to dig us out. Let's go help 'em!" Boyd reached out and grabbed old Jessica Miller gently by the arm. "See, Mrs. Miller, I told you I was too pretty to die under a bank," and gave her a little wink.

Boyd moved quickly to the ladder and climbed to the top. As fast as he could he worked the hatch, opened it, and threw it back with a clang. Boyd stuck his head out into the office and yelled, "We're over here. A little help would be nice! Hello?"

[Mazzic]

Ezra couldn't help but smile. Now she wants to follow me. We could have saved so much trouble we that had been our default setting. To be fair, he didn't think he'd do that much of a better job than the police officer, but he did wish they would be a lot more careful in their explorations around the rubble of their civilization.

In this instance, he wanted to go to the vault, not rummage through each door. But in the spirit of cooperation and keeping alive, he nodded to Elena and went to one side of the room, opening the doors there to see if there were any survivors or any supplies.

[CovenantSpiff]

The air was hot, and a whiff of gas as he emptied the can into the bus made Vito twitch his nose. It did not take a lot of concentration to fill a tank, so he had time to think, staring back and forth along the bus and into the distance. The quiet of the world afforded him a strange peace, but it was punctuated by the faint sound of aircraft and explosions in the distance. He was nearly done emptying the can when Aaron walked out.
"Good to see you're feeling better, although you don't look the part. Did you get good food or crap? I don't want my last meal to be powdered donuts."

[Wallace]

Bank:
Chad was pushing open bathroom stalls one by one until he shouted briefly. "Oh. Oh God." An awkward pause followed in which the other two thought there might be something wrong. "Someone didn't flush. Oh, that's nasty."
He came stumbling out of the men's room with one arm across his face and waving the shotgun which he was holding by the barrel. "It's clear. All clear."

Ezra came into the office space and did as ordered sweeping the large room for movement and occupants while Elana checked the first door. It was maintainance room with a boiler and a small toilet cubicle, probably for employees. She noticed quickly how the warning flame in the boiler was off.

Then the shouting started. It was muffled and the direction of it quite indeterminate. Ezra followed his first instinct and when to the vault room while Elana quickly opened the last door she noticed. The doctor quickly noticed the vault was sealed up tight and that the sound was not coming from it. At the same time, Elana stumbled upon the executive offices. Three large desks with stacks of paper and computers dominated the floor and the walls were lined with cabinets and bookcases filled with books about financing and banking. She heard the voice more clearly now and noticed there was a last door.


Boyd was quikly jumped on the ladder and knocked on the metal hatch. He unlocked it and started pushing but found that it still didn't budge.

[Killjoy]

"What?!? You have got to be kidding me!" Boyd banged on the hatch as hard as he could manage without hurting his hand . . . which wasn't very hard.

"Hey!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "We're in a bunker, under the floor. The hatch is stuck." Boyd got ready to yell again, but stopped. If the bunker was designed to keep nuclear devastation out, Boyd wasn't too sure how likely it would be that sound could escape. He hooked his feet on the outside of the ladder and slid down to the floor. "The hatch is stuck," he announced to the others.

"Thanks for the update, Captain Obvious," the fat middle-school boy said.

Boyd just grinned back at him. The kid had balls, and Boyd liked that. He turned to the others and asked, "Any of you mechanical types? Wanna take a crack at it? I'm afraid I've got nothing when it comes to stuff like this." Boyd thought for a minute and then added. "The rest of you better cover your ears."

Boyd walked over to the two middle-school boys and said, "Remember a few hours ago when I said it was really important that you guys stay calm and keep your voices down?" The boys nodded with wicked grins spread across their faces. "Uh . . . yeah, screw all that. Time to make some noise."

For the next few minutes, while anyone who could took a crack at the hatch, the kids took turns screaming variations of . . .

"We're under the bunker in the hatch and the floor is stuck!"
"We're under the floor in the hatch and the bank is stuck!"
"The hatch is stuck and Boyd is a pussy and he cheats at cards."

. . . like that, over and over.

[KnightDisciple]

The air was hot, and a whiff of gas as he emptied the can into the bus made Vito twitch his nose. It did not take a lot of concentration to fill a tank, so he had time to think, staring back and forth along the bus and into the distance. The quiet of the world afforded him a strange peace, but it was punctuated by the faint sound of aircraft and explosions in the distance. He was nearly done emptying the can when Aaron walked out.
"Good to see you're feeling better, although you don't look the part. Did you get good food or crap? I don't want my last meal to be powdered donuts."

Aaron glanced down at the baskets on his arms.

"Not a whole lot. Just some cookies and water. Well, and a flashlight. But we can't eat that. Still should be handy, though."

He moved to the door to the bus, intending to take his salvage inside.

"Glad you found at least a little bit of gas. Hopefully that'll tide us over for a while."

[JonAllen]

Their sweep was pretty methodical, and Chad's smelly encounter in the bathroom added a moment's levity to an otherwise stressful environment. As they sweeped from room to room, Elana was really starting to think the bank was empty.

Just as that thought was crossing her mind, she began to hear noises, voices, yelling. She felt her own excitement shoot through the roof. Finally, they were on the right track. Compared to the sounds of a destroyed city, the sound of voices sounded like voices of angels coming out of a bright light.

"Anyone else hearing that?" She yelled looking around in all directions.

Multiple voices...she couldn't see them...and they weren't making themselves visible....

"I think people are trapped in here somewhere," she commented aloud.

She moved forward to the next door. She kept the M-16 close at-hand with one hand on the pistol grip and the barrel pointed up at the sky while she opened doors with her left, she was wary of any Terminator voice recording tricks or traps. The same could be said for desperate survivors.

Elana listened carefully, trying to tell if she was getting closer or farther away from the sounds.

People trapped, that meant a room, somewhere....

Actions: search for the bunker

[Wallace]

Bank:
Elana walked quickly through the office to the other door and then carefully opened it. She peeked into a storage room and noticed racks of archived paperwork and office supplies. One of the racks had toppled over and was lying on the floor. On closer inspection she noticed the carpet had been pulled away and that the rack had fallen right on top of a metal hatch. She could hear the people from under the floor hatch shouting all kinds of strange things.


Gas station:
Vito was sealing the gas tank again after pouring the gas in. As Aaron stepped inside and placed his treasure on a close seat, he could hear what seemed like thunder in the distance. Peering out towards the direction of the noise he noticed a cloud of dust rising up into the air quite a long distance away in the downtown area. It seemed the high-rising structures were too damaged to stand upright for too long and as they collapsed it created a dust pillar hundreds of meters into the sky.

[JonAllen]

"I've got something!" Elana shouted to the others. "I need help in here!"

Setting the M-16 aside against the wall, Elana tried to lift the rack off the metal hatch. If she couldn't do it herself, she waited until Chad or Ezra showed up to help. She wasn't really sure what was looking at, a storage area? Basement? Shelter? Whatever it was, people had hidden there and obviously been trapped for who knew how long. She heard multiple voices below. Among them she thought she heard children's voices, and that made her all the more anxious to get the hatch open.

As she worked, she shouted down, "We're uncovering the hatch, hang on, just be a second!"

Actions: uncover and open the hatch, begin helping the people out

[Killjoy]

"The hatch is stuck and Boyd smells like cheese and--OUCH!"

The skinny middle-school boy was cut short as Boyd good-naturedly swatted the kid in the back of the head. "I think they know you're here," Boyd said. The kid took a deep breath and opened his mouth to yell again. Boyd raised his had anticipation of a mock assault. The kid laughed and ducked away from the ladder.

"We're uncovering the hatch, hang on, just be a second!"

"Great!" Boyd yelled back. "We're clearing out of your way!" Then in an inside voice. "Come on down, Dan." Boyd patted Dan on the leg. The old mechanic had been up on the ladder for five minutes, trying to find out why the hatch was stuck. With a few grunts, the aches and pains that come with age, Dan climbed down and everyone stood free of the ladder. "We're on the way out, ya'll," Dan reassured. "Everyone stand back."

[Mazzic]

Ezra turned to the sound of Elena's voice and rushed over to where she was. "Survivors?" he asked, moving to see what she had and help her.

[Killjoy]

Dan wiped his hands on a greasy rag as he spoke quietly to Boyd. "The hatch locking ring appears to be workin'. The lid just won't push up. It's stuck somehow . . . probably up top. Those folks up there ought to be able to clear it. I certainly can't."

Boyd looked around at the others. They were tired and hungry. A few were in desperate need of either caffeine or nicotine, and a few, those who refused to use the "portable potty," were in dire need of using the bathroom. "Soon, hopefully," Boyd added. "I'm not sure morale would survive another night down here. It could get pretty ugly." To illustrate his point, Boyd subtly gestured toward the woman who called herself Jane. She was looking antsy and her hands were shaking. She was dressed in a high-powered business suit but had removed the jacket, shoes, and quite a few buttons on the blouse. She was sweating profusely.

"Drug addict?" Dan asked quietly, but it sounded like an accusation.

"Maybe," Boyd said. " Or in need of some meds. Who knows? We all like our chemicals, one kind or another, don't we."

"Well, if trouble starts, we men need to stick together . . . to protect everyone." Dan was old but his eyes burned with fight.

Boyd slapped him hard on the back. "Now . . . don't talk like that. We'll all be nice and civilized for as long as we need to if it comes to that.  But it won't come to that. Those nice folks up there are about to get us out."

"They might be mutants, here to eat our brains," the fat middle-schooler said. He had sneaked up behind Boyd and Dan as they talked. Dan scoffed dismissively and walked away. Boyd turned to face the boy.

"Mutants? Brain eating mutants. Humans turned into brain eating mutants in . . ." Boyd looked down at his watch. "In less than a day?" Boyd laughed. "Do they even teach science in schools anymore. Isn't there something more productive you could be doing other than dreaming up exciting ways for us to die?" Boyd looked around the room until he spotted the one middle school girl who had made it into the bunker. She looked to be in the sixth or seventh grade. She sat on the floor with her skirt pulled over her knees. Her hair was disheveled--she had started the day with a French braid but pulled it loose about four hours ago--and she looked as though she had been crying (she had, every few hours since the beginning). "There. You see that girl? Go comfort her. You know, be nice, encouraging, heroic, all that. Talk to her until they get us out of here. You're going to need to work on your social skills with the girls anyway . . . with a face like that."

The boy stood stark still, calculating the weight of Boyd's comment. Boyd was grinning from ear to ear, so the boy knew not to take the insult seriously. "Punk!" he spat and then with a helpful shove from Boyd, the boy walked over to the girl and sat down next to her.

"Anytime now . . ." Boyd muttered looking up at the hatch.