Matt finds nothing useful down in the sub-basement. Well, he finds quite a lot-but they are all boxes marked with inventory numbers. He certainly does not want to spend the time, energy, and worse-noise level to try and find out what is inside them.

Eventually, he heads to stairwell and starts to climb up while making the occasional jump. He knows he must be fully healed, as he easily makes some of the more scary leaps with no problem at all.

That is...until the last one. He must be close to the level he was at, because he can hear the moaning behind the door to that level. Sadly, the rest of the stairwell is blocked off-meaning he cannot get to Alex and Ryder via the stairs. Worse, when he makes his final jump, the stairwell gap he had leapt from gives away. All three living humans can hear chucks of stairs fall away-leaving Matt separated by all those walkers by just a single door. Worse-he can hear some of them banging on the door-trying to get in...

OOC-Matt, the Walkers have become aware of you! Everybody gains +1 stress as they realize Matt is now in trouble. However, the door to the stairwell is closed. Matt if you try to jump back down, it will be more diffcult.

Ryder pulls out the walkie and speaks into it. "Uh, looks like we may be having some problems with Irene. More specifically, Matt may be having problems with quite a few Irenes, and we may need to cut them down to size."

He licks his lips. He's forgotten most of Rebecca's codewords. He's not sure what more there is to say in any case.

"If anyone wants to murder some Irenes, we may have space. How are you fixed for people's names where you are?"

"Shit," Matt mumbles under his breath. He's been swearing a lot recently, which is most out of character ... he blames it on the stress. Okay, through the door and face the music, or back down to the basement.

Music!?

Matt takes the gizmo from his pocket and tries to work out which direction he'd need to throw it to clear a path back to the exit. He changes the setting to 3 (both) and winds it up, then quickly opens the door and throws the gizmo through the gap before pulling it shut again.

He'll give it a few seconds to take effect, then make a dash for it.


OOC:
20:01, Today: Matt Carter rolled 31 using 9d6 with rolls of 2,4,2,6,3,3,3,6,2.  Mobility
2 successes, no walkers

In reply to Matt Carter (msg # 62):

Matt wrenches open the door, and throws the metal ball he just activated. He smashes the one banging on the barrier directly in the face. It goes down, and does not get up. The ball rolls, extending small metal arms when it gets stuck on sections of floor to keep moving. However, the lights and the music are what really draws the dead...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6dYWe1c3OyU

Matt closes the door, hearing the moans, cries, and of course-Gloria singing. Then he opens the door and starts to run towards the broken area he climbed down...

OOC-Combat! Matt is using his mobility against the Walkers-threat 3, swarm size 4. Alex and Ryder can try to get the rest of the 7 successes he needs to escape. Matt is getting a bonus from the disco ball, but you are unsure how many auto successes you get. You must justify being able to help Matt from your placement above. Guns will work, but so will using the the ladders Ryder found(Mobility +2 from ladders). If at least 3 players do not roll, one player must roll twice-the second at -2.

"Well, shi-it." Ryder grins and shoves the walkie back in his pocket. He unlimbers the AR-15 and clicks the selector to three-shot burst. "When the fat lady sings—and she is singing!—there is only one solution for your woes..."

He raises the carbine and blasts into the walkers pursuing Matt. Brass rains down on the broken concrete like hail. He laughs, barely resisting the urge to whoop.

"Colt AR-15, an American classic."

All the hanging around was grating on his nerves, but this Ryder gets. Running, shooting, mayhem, destruction. Just like the old days. Perhaps better, since nobody gives a hot damn what you shoot, or who, anymore.

...and if he can help Matt, he can even play hero.

---

OOC: Ryder Hudson failed (no successes) using 11d6 with the Target Number system with a target of 6 with rolls of 5,3,4,5,1,5,1,3,4,4, 1.  Ranged Combat. (He never said he could hit anything, mind.) No successes, and a walker.

OOC-Alex may wanna use her drive on this one...

"Matt?"  Alex's voice breaks a little on the word, panic knifing through her as she hears something that was once solid crumbling away.  Has a wall landed on him?  That's a real possibility given the state the building is in.  Never in her life has she been so frustrated at not being able to see.  "Matt!"  Then the disco ball starts up, and she breathes a quick sigh of relief.  Not that she can relax, that isn't going to happen until they're all back on the ship, but at least she knows that Matt's alive now, at this moment.  And, hopefully, heading back towards her and Ryder.

At that point, to her complete surprise, Ryder starts shooting.  With a little scream of shock, she glances over at him, her dark eyes huge -- and possibly getting even bigger as she realizes that he's actually enjoying this.  But there's no time to worry about what his reaction says about his psychology now, not with Matt still in need of help.  Scrambling over to the ladders, she checks them to make sure that they're stable, bracing them as best she can against the side of the pit.  If and when he starts climbing up them, he'll need to do it fast, and he won't have time to worry too much about being careful.  "Matt, over here, here!" she shouts, as loudly as she dares, eyes scanning the area for any sign of him appearing out of the shadows.

OOC: 18:45, Today: Alex Martin rolled 1 success using 9d6 with the Target Number system with a target of 6 with rolls of 2,2,3,2,6,2,2,3,5.  Mobility +2 Stress +2 Drive.

18:46, Today: Alex Martin rolled 2 successes using 9d6 with the Target Number system with a target of 6 with rolls of 1,6,1,3,5,3,6,3,3.  Mobility Push.

Total of 3 successes, no Walkers.

In reply to Alex Martin (msg # 66):

Matt runs, dodging and weaving between walkers. However, the disco ball is doing its job. Drawing the main bulk of the horde away from him and towards Gloria's singing with the flashing lights. He can hear the lyrics as he moves.

Ryder laughs as he blasts down into the pit. Releasing a stream of bullets as he proceeds to shoot. However, none of his shots are headshots. Thus the walkers are slightly disoriented, and some fall. Only to rise again and seek their prey.

Alex manages to connect the two ladders, and quickly put them over the side. She clings on to it, making sure Matt has a stable platform to climb up. At first she does not see him, only the glowing ball highlighting the hideous faces around the device. Then she feels the ladder jerk and move, and for a horrible second she thinks a walker may be coordinated enough to climb it. Then she looks down into Matt's face, panting and slightly sweaty as he comes up over the edge and into her arms.

This moment of the two holding each other ends quickly. As they realize that the various failed gunshots have drawn new walkers from the first floor they are on. Streaming in from the outside, the smaller group is heading right for the three of them!

OOC: Matt got 2 success, Alex got 3. Alex should have also rolled 2 more dice due to the ladder bonus. I rolled for her, and they both failed, so no changes. However, the discoball added +2 auto successes, enough to bring you to 7!

Ryder however has created enough noise with his gun and fail to create a smaller group of walkers to fight this round!

Threat 3, Swarm 2.

You need a total of 5 successes to deal with them.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:19, Thu 02 May.

Matt unslings his bow and fires quickly at the approaching horde. His first shot goes wide and he quickly nocks a second arrow and tries again ...

OOC:
19:18, Today: Matt Carter rolled 33 using 10d6 with rolls of 3,5,1,2,3,5,4,2,5,3.  Ranged Combat: Bow+2.
19:18, Today: Matt Carter rolled 36 using 11d6 with rolls of 2,5,6,3,5,3,3,2,2,4,1.  Ranged Combat: Bow+2 (push).
Stress increased to 3
1 success, 1 walker

In the blink of an eye, Alex goes from infinite relief at Matt being back with them to a fresh wave of panic at the sudden appearance of so many Walkers, seemingly from nowhere.  Because of course they couldn't have even ten seconds to breathe.  That never seemed to happen.

Scrambling back from the edge of the pit, she saw Matt ready his bow and start firing -- and if only they could all do that, she'd feel a little better.  Guns were so loud, and sooner or later all the bullets would be gone.  But for now it couldn't be helped, and she had to admit that guns were also much easier to use if you didn't really know what you were doing, like her.  Theoretically, at least.

So, trying not to panic, she pulled the pistol out of her pack and fired.

OOC: 16:38, Today: Alex Martin rolled 1 success using 8d6 with the Target Number system with a target of 6 with rolls of 1,3,1,4,1,3,6,4.  Ranged Combat.  One success, no Walkers.  Really hoping I won't have to push again...

Ryder snorts in disgust. Ok, he was never the best shot—more a spray and pray man, he supposes—but that's a poor performance, even for him.

"Bastards won't stand still to have their heads blown off," he mutters.

It doesn't matter. Between the disco ball, and Alex's shifting of the ladders, and the whole appealing nature of her anxious yearning, something works. He watches Matt finesse his way from the darkness and up the ladders, letting out a relieved sigh as Mattlex is finally reunited in a tender, but all too brief, moment. He figures if Alex was rooting for him, he might have put on a similar display to Matt, though most of the girls he knows probably wouldn't have stuck around long enough to find out.

Maybe Laura...

Jesus, you're turning into a right romantic. Next thing you'll be reading Jane Austen and telling everybody how swoony Mr. Darcy is!

But, ultimately, that, too, is fleeting. The only constant in this world is chaos, and Ryder is unsurprised when the noise of his brief display acts like a flame to the mothy walkers. They might run out of food, power, ammunition, fuel, and good-looking young brainiacs, but they will never be short of ambulatory corpses.

He slings the carbine on his back and tightens the wraps around his knuckles. Maybe it's time to be a little less histrionic? He cracks his knuckles. "Come on then, bastards."

The first walker takes a savage straight from his right fist, the second a lightning-fast scythe-kick, and then he's in among them, and it's all instinct and focused brutality—

---

OOC: Ryder Hudson rolled 3 successes using 10d6 with rolls of 2,6,6,5,6,3,2,5,2,4. Close Combat. Three successes, no walker.

Many things happen at once. Ryder rushes into the mob of walkers. Punching, kicking, and twisting necks to breaking. At the same time, two walkers rush Alex, creeping up from the side of the crew. Matt gets in the way, having to block both with his bow. One of them shatters the top part of his bow with its teeth and jaws, making the weapon un-useable. However, Matt stabs it in the eye with the now un-launchable arrow, dropping it. The second walker grabs Matt and brings his throat close to its teeth...only for him to hear a loud BANG as Alex shoots the creature in the forehead. It slumps to the ground without causing any injury.

OOC-Five successes gained! I can choose to lower the swarm size by 2 or less, so I do and the combat is over!
This message was last edited by the player at 15:01, Fri 03 May.

Matt gives Alex a huge hug, just holding her tight for a moment. "Thanks!" he whispers.

Another close call. They've survived, but it never seems to get any easier. Slowly, not really wanting the moment to end, he releases his hold and turns to include Ryder. "Sorry guys, I didn't find anything useful. Lots of boxes, but it was too dark to see anything. We'd need to clear out the area and explore properly with flashlights. And we'd probably need rope and a set of pulleys to lift it out of there."

Shivering at the close call, Alex clings to Matt as hard as she can.  "I should be thanking you," she whispered, savoring the warmth of the moment while she can.  "You saved me first."  For those few seconds, though, everything else in the world vanishes.  No Walkers, no burned-out buildings, not even any of the usual lingering worries about basic things like food and warmth.  For just a little while, it's only the two of them.

But it doesn't last, it can't, and all too soon Matt is turning to talk to Ryder.  The Walker she'd shot twitches and she does, too, but it's only the last of its death throes -- its second death throes.  How she'd managed to get such a good shot she has no idea, but sheer desperation must count for something.  And they're usually desperate in these struggles.

But for now, at least, they're all okay, even Ryder unscathed after wading into the group of undead.  That's an even bigger mystery, how he keeps managing to pull that off, but as long as it works, she can't argue with it.  "We probably should clear the place out if we can," she says, keeping her arm around Matt for just a little while longer.  "With all these boxes there have to be things we can use.  Maybe not food, but at least parts and materials for Juan and Bill to work with.  We should go find the others, see if we can work out a plan for a serious salvage operation.  Ryder, did you see any pullies or rope while you were looking for the ladders?"

Ryder shakes his head. "Place is a mess. I was lucky to find the ladders."

He rarely gets to feel like a gooseberry, but he's feeling like one today. Two's company, three's a serious scheduling problem and may require burner phones. It's rare. Self-consciousness, feelings, giving a goddam for anything. They're not usually his thing. But he kind of likes Mattlex. There's a sort of sweetness to their relationship he wishes he had in his own.

Ever.

Tenderness is hard to achieve, he's found, when your idea of foreplay is beating the everliving shit out of somebody.

He stands at the edge of the bomb crater. The walkers mill about uselessly. But it's a lot of walkers and a lot of milling. He imagines what a grenade might do, dropped in among them. Probably kill a whole load about a second before the roof fell in.

Maybe explosives are not the way to go.

Rope, pulleys, flashlights, though... All your post-apocalyptic shopping needs. But the boxes are too important—too potentially important, he corrects—to be left. He touches the tattoo on his ribs. 'Cry "Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war.' Maybe it's time to give the dogs a shout on the walkie...?

"If we want to be certain of clearing this place out, we'll need to others. That's a serious swarm you avoided there, Matt." He scratches his neck. "It is probably time to check what they've found, too. In addition to getting the boxes out, we need to get them to the Nancy. Not sure this shithole is a safe place to moor. Might be we need transport."

The Radio flares to life.

Private Saroyan? Fuck me. Ryder raises an eyebrow. His prison shrink would have had a field day with that one: 'Have you experienced any other flashbacks? Do you feel remorse for the things you did?'

He'd never have heard the end of it.

He pulls the walkie from his belt, wiping the gore form it on his pants, presses talk: "Just lightin' up some Irenes. Between Gloria Gaynor, some ladders, and a little old-fashioned whup ass, we got it in hand. ... Haven't been able to recover shit, though. Found plenty of stuff, but sorting it and getting it out will take ropes, pulleys, and flashlights. None of which we have. How are you guys fixed over there?"

"Sounds like they're ok, at least," he says to Alex and Matt. "So, what do we do, Brainiacs? There's no way to get that shit out that I can see." He pauses, looking over the lip into the crater. "Although... I guess both groups together could probably take the walkers down, clear the way. With them gone, we'd only have to worry about the roof falling on us. Maybe we could just go in and drag all the boxes into the light."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 18:02, Sat 04 May.

"My bow is broken," Matt says, "so I'm not against returning to the ship and trying again once we have all the tools we need. Even if we clear out the walkers now, we still have to find a way to get the stuff out of here."

Still keeping an arm around Matt -- more reassurance that he's alive and well is always a good thing -- Alex listens to the radio chatter.  "Sounds like they could use some backup there, too," she says.  "We can clear out the Walkers in both places, then start hauling out whatever we can before any more show up.  Or any more humans," she adds, uneasily.  Before all this, her natural inclination was to trust people unless given a reason not to, but now, after the Hill and what had happened at Wal-Mart, trusting anyone she doesn't already know seems like a ridiculously bad idea.  She's turning into a cynic, and she'll have to watch that, but in the current situation it's probably the best approach.

"So, okay, back to the ship, get a hold of whatever sort of block and tackle equipment Bill and Juan might have, and whatever might help us deal with those crowds," she suggests, nodding at the Walkers.  "Then back here, sticking together this time, and see what we can find.  Sound like a plan?"  Now that she's had a few moments to recover, she's starting to feel a little better, and she smiles up at Matt reassuringly.  "Hopefully Juan has more bows ready.  And I really need to start learning how to use one myself."

OOC: Reducing stress by 1.

Radio reply:

"Sounds like a plan, Commander Alex." Ryder nods, already turning for the entrance.

He holds up the walkie, presses the talk button. "Hey, Private Cutie, tell Captain Sean we're meeting on the shore by the dinghies. Uh, gonna debrief, and decide what we do next. Some, uh, project management."

Sleeping with Adria is rubbing off. Next he'll change his name to John, and become the perfect man.

He kicks a piece of skull out of his path. Hard to compete with the dead. They do no wrong.

As he approaches the entrance, it occurs to him the mission has been a bust. At least so far. No fuel, no solar panels, no hidden armory of medium-calibre support weapons. Away teams on Star Trek never had these problems. Perhaps they need to take a leaf out of Picard's book?

As he strolls back towards the 'beach', he wonders if he'd be Riker... or a redshirt.

Oh no, definitely Khan Noonian Singh. He grins. Nailed it.

Matt is reluctant to let go of Alex, and gives her another quick squeeze. "Yes, together is better. I don't like us separating like this." At the mention on Juan, Matt remembers that Juan promised him a new bow - a metal one, assuming he had the necessary supplies. I may need more than one, I seem to have a knack for losing weapons. Possessions come and go, he reflects, but at least they were all still alive ... and he had Alex by his side.

"C'mon, lets go," he says, taking Alex by the arm and leading her back to the dinghy.

OOC: Reducing stress by 1.

The rain patters softly on the twisted metal and shattered concrete around Ryder as he picks his way through the ruins of the bombed-out warehouse. His boots crunch on the debris.

He's frustrated. Another dead end. Another wasted risk.

He stops in the entrance, letting the cold drizzle wash over his face as his gaze drifts to the macabre piles of corpses strewn across the beach. Hundreds of bodies, unceremoniously dumped and left to rot in the open air. It's a brutal reminder of how bad things got in the days after the outbreak. Civilization crumbling like a sandcastle before the tide.

It's one fucked up situation—all those lives, snuffed out by the same government that was supposed to protect them. He kind of gets Devon's feelings about it... but then there's Rebecca. She was a soldier, and she doesn't look like the type to massacre civilians.

And she can cheer. Nobody who can cheer like that can be all bad.

His eyes settle on Alex and Matt picking their way towards him through the rubble, their expressions as grim as the surroundings. Unless they look at each other. Then they get all misty eyed, like something off the Hallmark channel. He almost expects soft music to be piped in. All they'd need to make a movie is Alex to go home to a small town in Hicksville, and Matt's ex to turn up.

One of which might actually happen…

Don't be such an asshole, Ryder. You're just jealous. Which he is, since it's a reminder of how much interaction he just doesn't understand. It's actually kind of sweet, and he's not normally the saudade type. Guess Laura and Adria are getting under his skin.

He leans on the ruined wall, scanning the shore. How long can we keep treading water, Ryder wonders, not for the first time. It's been months since he left Detroit, three months since Matt and Alex left the nightmare down in the Gaia domes, and every day it feels like the world is slipping further into madness. The Nancy feels hemmed in by threats: the Hill, the Walmart gang, the convoy, if they're different; whatever gurnack took a shot at him in Newport. And he knows the world beyond is just as bad. Trinity and her fucked up family are still out there somewhere, torturing, raping, and murdering their way across the States.

But surviving here feels like an endless series of dead ends and dwindling hopes. The Nancy and her crew—they're just a tiny island in a vast ocean of absolute nothing. Eventually, that tide is going to swallow them, too, if they can't find some way to turn things around. Ryder tears his gaze away from the ghastly beach, jaw set in a hard line as Alex and Matt reach his side. He doesn't need to say a word—the frustration of this latest salvage run is written in every crack and fissure of the ruined warehouse around them.

"What's next?" he asks nobody and everybody, meaning the whole situation, meaning the future, and not just this screwed up shoreline and the mystery boxes in the basement.

Ryder's fingers flex around the grip of his rifle as his eyes scan the forsaken landscape once more. What's next? That's the million dollar question, isn't it? He slips out of the shelter and heads for the dinghies, feeling oddly exposed in the tangled surroundings.
All he knows for certain is that they can't keep drifting aimlessly like this, constantly spinning their wheels while the world crashes down around them. They need a plan, a destination - something to fight for beyond just bare survival.

Silly as it seems now, on the way here Alex had dared to hope for an easy win for them, at least relatively easy.  This trip back to the dinghy is supposed to be a triumphant one, all of them laden with useful supplies -- but the only triumph is that they're still alive.  That's enough for the moment, it's the only thing that's keeping her determined to finish this salvage mission, if they can, but every day she realizes how much more fragile life is now.  If every day only brings another struggle to survive until tomorrow, how much longer can they last?  If they're all destined to turn into Craigs, to start acting like the people on the Hill, then is the struggle even worth it?

Then she turns to Matt, walking along beside her through the wreckage, and tells herself that it is.  It has to be.  Someday, people like them will be the ones truly rebuilding the human race, because they'll still remember what it means to be human.

Even in the moment she isn't entirely sure she believes that.  But again, it's enough for now.  Her eye catches Matt's and she smiles.

Ryder certainly isn't smiling, his frustration obvious.  But while this clearly won't be an easy win, it still might not be a loss.  There's hope of getting something out of this, something to boost everyone's morale.  They need that as much as they need food.  "We'll figure this out," she says, addressing his anger as much as his question.  "Now that we know what we need, we can come back and get things done.  It's a slow start, that's all.  And you know, Juan will probably have some new gadget for us that will solve everything.  We'll manage."

It may not be much of a pep talk -- she knows very well that there are still far too many ifs to worry about and her voice isn't as confident as it might be -- but it's honest, at least.

OOC: 13:05, Today: Alex Martin rolled 2 successes using 10d6 with the Target Number system with a target of 6 with rolls of 2,6,3,2,5,4,5,3,6,2. Scout.  Two successes, no Walkers.

While the sounds of Ryder's gunfire, and Alex's single shot did draw some outside walkers-they had gotten distracted when the loud bangs ended. Alex then manages to find a clear path back to the boat without further attention.