ZRP-2 Chapter 9: Can We Keep It?

"Because the world being overrun with zombies doesn't make things simple?" James suggested brightly as they kept walking around, mostly to make sure everyone was alright and keep an extra gun (and sword) in the area.

Sam smiled a little, and pulled Eve on top of her as she lay on her back, bringing their head together for a kiss. Breaking it after a few second, she said "Maybe that and more.....but can I please just have a nap for a few minutes?"

Ella, who was looping the line for easier transport, idly said "Hey if you want, think of this as a date. With work. A work-date."

"First date is setting up traps for zombies. Great. What happened to dinner, a movie, and a kiss goodnight?" Haley joked.

Eve smiled and returned the kiss, then relaxed. "Gake all the time you want...I'm not going anywhere."

Hibiki sighed. "Pretty much. Nothing ever will be normal I guess..."

"Yeah.....that all went out the window the moment your date was liable to rip your face off," Ella said. Sighing, she said "Sorry, it's just....been a long two years is all."

"Clearly," Sam said. "Hell I'd be able to breathe easier if you did."

"Oh....it will be," James said. "In time, our kids and their kids will get used to all this."

Haley put her hand on Ella's shoulder. "You don't need to be alone. Wait. That wasn't right...Ella. Want some help with the next two, and a few more?"

Eve giggled, then slid off and rested her head on Sam's...lower chest area. "Better?"

"I wizh they wouldn't have to grow up in hell." Hibiki said sadly.

"Sure thing," Ella responded. "Maybe we can get some extra hands to help get this done quickly."

"A little," Sam sighed, though now it felt like her stomach contents were going to be pressed out of her.

"Not every wish can come true," James said. Grinning a little, he looked at her and said "Least one wish came true."

"Uhm..Ella...I kinda...was trying to be sweet and stuff....not talking about work." Haley said softly.

Eve snuggled. "Good. Now take your nap silly."

Hibiki rubbed her temples. "Guess it did."

"Oh hey, now you're acting like it's a bad thing," James said with chuckle. "Then again....I guess I have been a bit of a headache."

Without further need to be told, Sam fell asleep, enjoying the nap.

"Oh....OH," Ella said as she realized what Hayley meant. "Uhm...not sure how you have a date these days."

Hibiki shrugged, having no words.

Eve fell asleep as well, enjoying the warmth.

"Well...how about you and me find some music and have a fun night? Or did you forget how to dance?" Haley teased.

"No, but not like we have music to dance to," Ella shot back.

"I find your lack of response most disturbing..." James said in his best James Earl Jones.

"You are a major headache James." Hibiki said.

Haley chuckled. "Then imagine the music. You like slow? Country? The Beatles?"

"And yet you still put up with me," he said in an amused tone.

"Eminmen," Ella said with a small blush.

"Well, James. I have had sex with you a lot, married you, and carry your child. I think I can stand you." Hibiki teased.

"I dont know any of his songs...ever listen to Taylor Swift? Or uhm...dammit I dont know many american artists. Mainly the...oldies." Haley sighed.

"I liked Taylor Swift a little," Ella said with a smile. "'It feels like a perfect night, to dress up like hipsters,'" she started to sing a little.

"WOuld be awkward if you realized you couldn't," James said.

As Haley began to sing along, she offered her hand to dance.

Hibiki frowned. "Yeah it would be."

Ella stopped and chuckled, saying "Can't, have to finish with this first."

"Granted, not like we've been able to. Between running from Shepherds, angry townspeople, zombies, and bandits, the last time we were ever...together, was what a month ago?" James asked.

"Bout then." Hibiki put a hand on her stomach. "Best find time if you want one more...Not gonna get much action once the bump is bigger. That and a new tank driver. Wont be able to fit in there."

Haley pouted. "Fine..."

"I'll try," James said dryly. "But these days, seems like we never get a chance for that sort of thing."

Getting the first line set up, Ella took Hayley looking for more of the same line. "Tell me if you find any more. Plus some cans, we need to tie those to the line."

"No one does. Hell breaking loose everywhere randomly." Hibiki said.

Haley began to gather everything needed.

Graciously taking what Hayley managed to scrounge up, Ella tied the cans close together along the line, thrumming the string and causing the cans to clang loudly against each other. "Perfect....and now to do the same with the rest," Ella said. Estel came over to help them out, much to Ella's appreciation.

"That it is," James said. Sighing, he made for the first house he had entered before.

Haley grumbled. Annoyed her time with Ella was cut short, she just worked faster.

Hibiki followed faster.
"So. Master bedroom first?" She said coyly.

"Hibiki Ikezawa, I never...." James said with a small amount of humor in it. Still....he paused for a moment, but it was so brief she ran into him. "Sorry, just.....I shouldn't let it get to me and all, but don't expect anything. Doing this sorta thing after killing my bro is...well, it seems odd, having sex the same day you stab your homicidal brother to death."

"Well someone's a sour grape," Ella chortled as Estel helped tie the cans to the string. "Not liking the extra company?" she asked Hayley.

Haley paused.
"...No offence Estel...but I was in the process of pathetically attempting to set up a date with Ella..."

"I know. But if having sex with your wife cant take your mind of atrocities, then nothing can."

"Well it's not that I don't want to take my mind off it, believe me I do. It's just....you don't honestly find it weird--nigh disgusting--to pretty much have sex the same day you killed your own flesh and blood?" James asked.

"Oh.....seriously?" Estel asked, much to Ella's amusement. "Look how about we finish this, and the two of us grab a drink, just you and me?" Ella suggested.

Hibiki groaned. "You make everything difficult." She opened a door. "Clear. I'll sleep alone and see you when I am awake."

Haley looked at Estel. "Im sorry...I didnt mean to be mean..." she looked at Ella. "And...I'd like that."

Chuckling a little, James followed in after her, arms wrapping around. "Look....what do you say to at least laying down together? Maybe with some time I'll be able to get Michael off my mind."

"Then it's a date," Ella said, and Estel smirked a little.

Marcus and Clara remained on the bus, testing out the radio they were tinkering with. "Think this will work?" Clara asked. Marcus shrugged and said "Not really, but at the very least we'll have a working radio. Not sure if anyone will answer though."

"That's okay." She said. Hibiki pulled him over tonsaid bed.

Haley smiled. "...seal it with a hug?"

Grinning, James let himself get pulled before falling back onto the bed, dragging Hibiki with him to land next to him.

"Whatever happened to sealing the deal with a handshake?" Ella teased. "Lines first, hug and drink later." They only had one more to go anyway.

Marcus took the microphone, clicking the button on the side and speaking into it "This is the St. Louis nomad group, is anyone there?" Static. "Repeat this is Marcus of the St. Louis Nomad group, we are survivors and not infected. Please....is there anyone out there? Friendly, preferably."

Hibiki chuckled and fellnwith him.

Haley smiled and continued working.

Abel entered one of the basements of the houses. It had a musty smell, definitely not a basement you'd want to live in. He reached into his pocket for his flashlight, clicking the back of it and lighting the room. The cement floor had a thin layer of water covering it and there were metal shelves across the walls, all of which were mostly empty save for some that had boxes of storage, none of which would be useful to anyone anymore.

"This is Saving Angel controls are not responding, engine two is on fire... We are going down..." The sight of a large military airplane plummeted through the clear blue sky, smoke belching from one engine, the others spluttering in the desperate last gasps of life.
"Location, west of way point six... Mayday, mayday this is Saving Angel we are going down" The plane flew over a seemingly abandoned town, pilot and copilot struggling desperately to save their dying bird.
"We are going down, everyone out! We are bailing..." The transmission faded to static with a sharp whine, followed by a few minutes later a distant explosion which was clearly the aircraft itself digging it's own grave and redecorating zombie America with bits of shrapnel.

Marcus was stunned for a moment, before rapidly speaking "This is Marcus of the St. Louis Nomads, what is your position over? Repeat, what is your position?" All he got back was static, however outside there was the sound of yelling and people running, someone shouted "Oh my god!"

Ella, still outside, looked up in shock as a freaking plane, smoke trailing from the engines, soared way too close overhead before crashing a little bit outside of the area, a plume of smoke already rising high into the sky. "It really.....just....it really, never stays dull," she said.

"What was that?" James said, rapidly sitting up at the sound of what could only be described as a rumble, and something he hadn't heard in a long time: jet engines.

"W-what?" Sam murmured, roused from her sleep.

Tyler couldn't believe his ears. It's been forever since he last heard the sound of a plane overhead. He stepped out of the vehicle he was driving so he see it. Yeah, there it was. Though he only saw a glimpse of it before it found mother Earth. He wondered if James or Marcus were gonna send people to investigate. He'd definitely be one of the people who joined the party. If there was one of course. Leaving now wouldn't be the best of ideas.


Trevor was driving in his '86 pickup along the road when he picked up a transmission from his CB radio. Something about crash landing. Were they crazy? Last time he checked there wasn't planes floatin' around anymore. He looked out his window to see if they were telling the truth. Sure enough, in the distance there was a plane. Would've been harder to see without all the smoke and fire. He sighed, unsure if he should check it out. On one hand he had his own problems; food, water and fighting off the freaks. But on the other there could be survivors, people in needing of help. And he wasn't the kind of man to just leave others hangin'.

Hibiki sat up.
"Fucking hell." Was all she said.

Haley slumped to her knees. "I...never get it my way. Cant be a dull day to take you on a date. Michael Bay's ghost...just has to follow us."

Eve groaned as the noice woke her. "Nn...I was comfy...whats that racket..."

Back on his feet and running for the door, James grumbled something about God hating him, exiting the house and joining the many other people who were staring at the pillar of smoke. It was not good at all however, not just for the obvious of a plane falling out of the sky: the smoke was a signal to every zombie for miles, and no doubt more would come through the areas as they sought out the source. "Dammit.....everyone back in the cars and make ready to move out," he shouted. "I need two cars, all terrain, to come with me and investigate the plane." A few people volunteered, the rest moving for the cars.

Ella was among the volunteers, clearly upset but still determined to find out what was going on.

Sam stumbled out of bed, a little groggy but already jumping into action.

Andrew and Sarah were also joining James to investigate.

Tyler was among the first to find an four wheel drive vehicle and get in. He saw a few others he recognized and was happy about it. At least he somewhat knew the people he was going with. He was actually sort of excited. Which was another thing that concerned him. He was excited that a plane fell out of the sky? The hell was wrong with him?


Trevor didn't want to burn too much fuel getting there but he had to get there fast, hopefully beat the hordes that are sure to follow.

As Abel was searching the basement, he began to feel the world shake and soon any noise was drowned out by the sound of an engine screeching in the sky. When he ran outside he saw people rushing to vehicles, then he looked up and saw the plummeting smoke overhead, leading to the ground out of town. He walked over toward one of the vehicles people were loading up around. He had his shotgun, pistol and sword with him when he entered one of the trucks.

"I guess we're driving right to it, huh?"

"You're fucking insane, you know that right?" One of two men laughed. "Bludy 'ell mate, I'm not sure I can do this." A grimy, cut, scratched, ripped up, chewed up and spat out australian-american was talking to an equally dirty, scratched, ripped up, chewed up, and spat out american.

"You. don't have to do anything. Just stay out of my way. I'll do all the work." Said the american. Both men were ex-Shepherds. Shepherds as in the terrorist-religious group that associated themselves with the church, and the zombies. They believed that zombies were their calling, the Revelation. The End times. Load of shit is what it was, and it got a lot of people killed. Both men joined up to survive, and were smart enough to pretend to believe in the mumbo jumbo religious shit.

They met after a series of attacks on the Shepherds, by some small band of heroes with guns and stupid bravery. After the American had already gone rogue, with another now ex-shepherd. Though the other was a little less willing. Now, the American and the Australian were stood upon some rocks on a hill, overlooking a Shepherd compound, base, temple, church, thing. Complex. Which they had, ultimately, planned on taking out. They were having a bout about it.

The American, having given into his psychopathic ways, had told the Australian his plan on systematically killing off every living and pseudo-living thing therein. His plan was simple, walk in, kill people, walk out. All they had was a single clip full of bullets and a knife. They knife, the American was going to use to furtively assassinate the shepherds. To him, it was a game, of life and death. To the Australian, it was suicide. However, the charismatic american persuaded the australian to come along with his plan.

Then the plan changed. They walked in, were spotted, not recognized, and hailed. They spoke to the guardsmen, and convinced him to let them in, as fellow Shepherds. Only, they were wolves in sheepskin. How little the shepherds suspected. They were, in a way, like the local extremists, some militias were so extreme in their belief that they lived off the grid, and shot people they didn't know. Much was to be unsaid about their social behavior. In fact, you could say that their acceptance of their own was at gunpoint. To some, it was passed gunpoint - they were turned into zombies.

The American and the Australian plotted, as they lived among the sheep. Soon, people went missing, and zombies dwindled. How strange, the priest-terrorist leader thought, that the arrival of these two men brought these disappearances. "It must be a sign." He thought, privately to himself. As he did, he was visited by one of them, and he smiled, knowingly. That was the last thing he did before died, he smiled. He always gave the locations of other encampments or facilities. Such a kind deluded old man. After that, they pinned the blame on someone, in the encampment, and that person got turned into a zombie, who, later that week, disappeared.

The bodies being accumulated were buried in mass grave, so massive, was it, that a certain beetle was attracted to it. Now, these beetles are rare, so the appearance of one is quite odd, but only if you can recognize it, and the American recognized it immediately. He later buried the bodies as quickly as he could. He didn't want anything to do with those beetles. Nasty little creatures. He preferred the animals to the insects or the hard shelled cousins. Though high-protein they may be, so could they be venomous. Poison in this time was a terrible thing. As was illness. And to an extent, death.

Alas, the encampment was soon a ghost town. With no living or pseudo-living inhabitants. Other than the local fauna, everything else was dead. Not a bullet was used. So the Australian was worried, because he was the one who carried the knife, and the American the gun, and the Australian hadn't killed very many people. How terrifying it was for him to find that the American had his own secret weapon, a weapon that none could take away. It was not his brain, for as much a weapon that could be, that was not it, but his body. His ability to manipulate the bodies of other people, contact manipulation, as well as the hidden knife he kept.

The American would just smile wryly at his Australian comrade, and the Australian would return the gaze, wearily.

Once they got into the cars (a pair of jeeps that were still good at going off road) the group headed off down the road and in the direction of the smoke. They were bound to go off road at some point, but they were more or less ready for it as the smoke grew larger. Along the way, they saw walkers moving through the woods and open areas by the road, all heading for the same spot.

Abel saw the undead all moving toward the same location everyone else was.

"Whatever we're gonna be doing, we're gonna have to do it quick. I bet you that thing acquired some unwanted attention."

Abel said, not only meaning the zombies.

Martha Peterson, Loadmaster for the down aircraft struggled out of her harness. The crash would have drawn the zombies like moths to a candle flame. There was nothing that she could do as she had floated down in her chute, but see the hordes swarming like a disturbed ants nest.
Some of her companions where not lucky when they landed, the dead swarmed them as they got tangled in their chutes, leaving them restrained and dinner. There was nothing she could do but watch. They where scattered, isolated... Each separated from the others, those that could fought and died fighting. Those that tried to run, they did not get far the dead where thick like a tide of gnashing teeth and rotting flesh.

At first Martha had tried to regroup with her friends, her comrades. She knew them all well, they lived together, flew together... And now, it seemed they would all die alone but in the same crash. Martha ran sprinting through the forest, heading towards a road she had seen while parachuting down. There was a farm house a few kilometres up the road, they might have vehicle and it seemed the best place to regroup with any survivors. If any.

She drew her combat knife plunging it into a walker skull before pulling it free. The zombie fell down, Martha kicked another one back sending it stumbling into a trio of others bowling them over. She sprinted on, she could not afford to be stopped, get grabbed or otherwise delayed. If she did... Martha was dead. Or undead depends on if they ate her or not.
All of a sudden the trees parted and she was on a road, walkers in hot pursuit. Unfortunately the road was filled with the dead, not just those that walked, but some that sprinted. Too many to dodge around, time to trim the horde's numbers. Martha drew her pistol with her right hand firing it at the runners, picking them off first, though she only managed to bring down a trio before the gun clicked empty. or jammed... It would make little difference she did not have the time to either clear the jam or reload.

She holstered the pistol and drew the penknife that she carried. She plunged the knife into the head of a runner before spinning around behind the body, bringing her combat blade up to cleave through the skull of a walker. She kicked another back before ducking out of range of another, her penknife striking the arm of another walker and burying itself deep in it's flesh. With a swing from her knife she cleaved the beast's head off. Martha struck out with her hand gripping a walker and flinging it into a cluster of other walkers. Another attack Martha and flipping herself over it's shoulder, the zombie's teeth tearing through the fabric of her flightsuit she plunged the knife into the back of it's skull. Panting, exhausted, Martha removed her helmet holding it tightly in her left hand to use as another weapon. The zombies still came, even though she was exhausted, she still prepared to fight on.

She swung the helmet staggering a zombie before slipping a blade into it's skull. A runner tackled her knocking her onto her side, narrowly she avoided the biting teeth in the snapping jaws by placing her left fore arm just under the chin. With a cry she stabbed the knife upwards and rolled the body off of her. She got slowly up to her feet, dropping her helmet onto the blood stained tarmac. She drew her flare pistol, shooting it into the closest walker, reverse it she held the barrel using the weapon as a club. She moved forward, knife slicing into a skull while the flare pistol caved in another. Just one more kill, keep fighting till she could escape and evade from them. She had to keep fighting, she could not stop, she could not let herself die here... Martha could not die yet.

There was a bend in the road ahead, trees obscuring whatever may have been around the other side. Not letting it stop them, the pair of vehicles turned and saw....a veritable swarm of the undead. They could have been an ocean, or at the least a lake, of heads and bodies moving together, almost like a shoal of fish in a nature video. And then there was the really shocking sight: there was someone still alive, a soldier by the looks of it, fighting them all in hand to hand with a knife. Without missing a beat, one of the occupants in the lead jeep took aim with their rifle, and fired a shot that went clean through the head of a zombie that was getting close to the soldier, while James stood up and shouted "Over here! Run!"

Martha heard the shout and scooping up her helmet, sprinted towards the jeep and clambered onto it. "Never been so glad to see you guy" She gasped breathless. Martha sheathed her knife to get a better grip, she was so exhausted that she could not climb in fully. "Drive... We... Gotta go now"

"Are there any more survivors?" James demanded while everyone else but the driver fired to keep the zombies back.

"I... I don't know" She whispered. "I... We where scattered they... Could have but.." Martha shook her head, she did not know whether her friends where alive or dead, by all chances they where dead. Fate just happened to smile kindly on her, she was in the right place at the right time to get rescued. There was little chance that her friends could have survived, especially those who got tangled in their chutes upon landing...
Their fate was not one worth thinking about.

"Dammit....fall back, let's move out!" James barked, and the driver did just that, shifting the jeep into reverse and pulling away from the horde while the one behind did the same, and they pulled a 180 before taking off down the road. "What's your name? And where the hell did you find a plane?" James asked.

"Loadmaster Martha Peterson" She replied hauling herself fully into the jeep and collapsing in the back. "Find? What? Don't you guys know?" Martha forced herself to sit up and looked at James. "Do you not know at all?"

"Am I asking for my own amusement?" James asked. "Yes, I really don't know. No one knows. So far as we know, we haven't seen a plane flying for the last two fucking years!" Right as he said years, one of the runners burst from the trees as it ran, slamming into the jeep and clawing to keep a grip. Sadly, it was a jeep of the same type seen in Jurassic Park, with no ceiling and plenty of ways to grab onto it. Which why it started hauling itself up and over, and James reeled back screaming "Fuck me!" The driver panicked, and swerved before regaining control, and the snarling, biting runner landed on top of James and tried to claw and bite at his flesh. "Fucking help!" he barked as he did everything he could to keep it from ripping him open like a Christmas present.

Martha swung her helmet at it, several times, but failed to kill the runner nor dislodge it. Exhaustion had begun to eat heavily at her limbs the very moment that she believed herself to be safer. Her adrenaline had failed and begun to fade out. "God damn it! Kill it!" She yelled at him.

Before James could even try and reach for a gun, someone slammed their knife into the back of the zombies head, killing it as they twisted the blade for good measure, and then through the limp corpse off James. "Thanks," James said, sitting up. More zombies appeared, but the jeeps picked up speed.

"To answer your question, the navy is still operating" She left out the just about operating bit. No sense in bringing more disheartening news to the survivors. What good would that bring? To call themselves a Navy was a bit of a overstatement... Yet such details they did not need to know for the sake of their own moral and her's.