"Come on Don, hit them in the head not the stomach" yelled a very
concentrated Captain Edward Grey. " I'm try but I can't seem to stop
shaking, I... I think I'm having another panic attack " replied Don in a
weak tone. He aimed the hulking brute of a weapon called the Remington
M1100, pumped in a round and shot strait at the rotting head of the
decomposing human zombie. As Eddie had expected the slug flew through the
first zombies head and continued to travel till it had decapitated the two
behind the first and neatly implanted itself into the wall adjacent. "Yes,
nice shooting Don!" Exclaimed Captain Eddie as he signalled his joy with a
thumbs up. Don smiled weakly and slumped against a wall, the shaking
subsiding "OK now that those freaks are taken care of, any one hurt?"
Eddie asked. No reply's. "Good lets head back to the Alamo and check ammo".
The team of ten police officers, one jewellery store security officer and a street cleaner who was in the right place at the right time began their journey back to base. They reached the Alamo, a nick name they gave to the assembly room since it was the best place to fall back and defend their selves. "Ok now for an ammo count starting from top rank to bottom, Captain Ryan your first". Captain Gerald Ryan, a short, muscularly plum, African American. "All'z I got is three and a half clips left for my Browning Handgun" stated Ryan "So that would amount to 32 bullets, so your doing ok for ammo. Next up is Lieutenant Genner". Lieutenant Fred Genner was a 6'0" Scottish-Canadian who was 60 but looked not more then 50. His hair only loosing its deep red pigment on the bottom of his stout beard. " I have 46 bullets left for my Redhawk Cap". Genner was a very untrustworthy man, that why he was the only one in the group who wasn't forced to use a revolver. Now more then ever Genner would say "I don't trust them automatics they tend to jam up when you need them the most". Next Eddie called up Detective Harold Zolinzski, a Fat, balding Ukrainian man. "I have 5 clips left for my eagle" Harry said, ejecting his clip and checking how full it was. Out of all the people in the team Harry was probably the best shooter. Excelling with the help of his mortifyingly accurate smooth silver STI Eagle handgun. The next team member for the ammo count was Sergeant Vivian Hardting, a youthful, talented beat cop who has only been on the job for six weeks. "I have 25 shells and 5 slugs for my Benelli" She said, tediously rolling two shells in her hand. The team just happened to stumble on her when they heard the loud blast of her shotgun from down the hall from the evidence room an hour earlier. The next person to step up was Sergeant Don Rudger. A large, bulky man who looks fierce but has trouble with panic attacks (almost regularly now). He respond in a very shaky voice, obviously recovering from his panic attack still " I...I ha-have three slug-gs left and 14 shells". After assessing Dons condition they continued the lengthy ammunition check. Next they checked Officer Hanna Huwan. A quite tall middle aged Asian parking meter maid. She was carrying a Beretta M9, a fine standard issue. "My ammos pretty low," She did a quick assessment just to make sure any ammo hadn't been dropped or left behind, " I only have 2 full clips with all these loose parabellums" she dropped on the bullets on the table with all the empty magazines and started to get to work. The next two Officers were the Gialdini twins, Mike and Vic. Mike started, " I have 5 clips for my M9", then Vic continued, " And I have 4 for my Browning". Finally the last Officer was Brad Mickel, a young, fairly good looking cop with an excellent build. None of the other cops had ever heard of him until now and aroused suspicion of many. He was carrying the twelve gauge Baikal double barrelled shotgun found on the mantel above the chiefs desk. " I have plenty shells , I count at least 50, but I am low on slugs, only got about 5". Next Eddie counted his own bullets for his Desert Eagle he found in one of his buddies lockers. He had an adequate amount. After that he asked Brian Yeates, the middle aged black security guard from the jewellery store next door. He had about 2 clips for his Beretta. Finally came Will Haron, a retired teacher who cleans streets as an old age hobby. He was one of those elderly people who just can't stop working. He was forced to used the only remaining gun. An old Smith and Weston M629C revolver that was found in the assembly room broom closest behind a lot of boxes of Scotty toilet paper and wrapped in an oil rag. It was a good handgun to say the least, and it was well suited for a man who only shot air guns as a kid. He had 2 lugers ( in other words 12 .44 bullets).
After the ammo assessment they had to figure out a plan to search the police station. The only areas they have searched were the lobby, the locker rooms, the assembly room and the hallway leading to the darkroom and evidence rooms. " I propose we split up into two teams," Eddie commanded, " I'll take six people and Captain Ryan will take the remaining six. My team will search the dark room, evidence room, chiefs office, and the roof top for any ammo or means of escape. Ryan's team will search the S.W.A.T. room, the remaining locker room, and the basement, more importantly the armoury located down there. Any objections?". No one person could come up with a better plan then that. They were slowly running out of ammo, food and drink from the vending machines and well patience to top it all off. Eddie looked around patiently, assumed that every one agreed and continued his speech " Fine then since every one agrees then I guess I'll make our teams up. Viv, Will, Harry, Don, and Brad come with me. That means that Vic, Fred, Hanna, Mike, and Brian will be going with Gerry". A few people nodded in acceptance, Brad wasn't one of them. Something was conspicuous about the way that mans alibi and since all most all the people alive were cops I think they might have questioned his story one time or another.
The two teams dispersed ammo correctly, suited up, ate, rested, and the next morning were heading off. The night had been uneasy for all the survivors. Filled with moaning and screaming from somewhere in the dismal silence they called the now dilapidated police station. They had four two way radios they found in the locker room to communicate with and warn if they found something useful. They wished each other good luck and good bye and left on there way.
The team of ten police officers, one jewellery store security officer and a street cleaner who was in the right place at the right time began their journey back to base. They reached the Alamo, a nick name they gave to the assembly room since it was the best place to fall back and defend their selves. "Ok now for an ammo count starting from top rank to bottom, Captain Ryan your first". Captain Gerald Ryan, a short, muscularly plum, African American. "All'z I got is three and a half clips left for my Browning Handgun" stated Ryan "So that would amount to 32 bullets, so your doing ok for ammo. Next up is Lieutenant Genner". Lieutenant Fred Genner was a 6'0" Scottish-Canadian who was 60 but looked not more then 50. His hair only loosing its deep red pigment on the bottom of his stout beard. " I have 46 bullets left for my Redhawk Cap". Genner was a very untrustworthy man, that why he was the only one in the group who wasn't forced to use a revolver. Now more then ever Genner would say "I don't trust them automatics they tend to jam up when you need them the most". Next Eddie called up Detective Harold Zolinzski, a Fat, balding Ukrainian man. "I have 5 clips left for my eagle" Harry said, ejecting his clip and checking how full it was. Out of all the people in the team Harry was probably the best shooter. Excelling with the help of his mortifyingly accurate smooth silver STI Eagle handgun. The next team member for the ammo count was Sergeant Vivian Hardting, a youthful, talented beat cop who has only been on the job for six weeks. "I have 25 shells and 5 slugs for my Benelli" She said, tediously rolling two shells in her hand. The team just happened to stumble on her when they heard the loud blast of her shotgun from down the hall from the evidence room an hour earlier. The next person to step up was Sergeant Don Rudger. A large, bulky man who looks fierce but has trouble with panic attacks (almost regularly now). He respond in a very shaky voice, obviously recovering from his panic attack still " I...I ha-have three slug-gs left and 14 shells". After assessing Dons condition they continued the lengthy ammunition check. Next they checked Officer Hanna Huwan. A quite tall middle aged Asian parking meter maid. She was carrying a Beretta M9, a fine standard issue. "My ammos pretty low," She did a quick assessment just to make sure any ammo hadn't been dropped or left behind, " I only have 2 full clips with all these loose parabellums" she dropped on the bullets on the table with all the empty magazines and started to get to work. The next two Officers were the Gialdini twins, Mike and Vic. Mike started, " I have 5 clips for my M9", then Vic continued, " And I have 4 for my Browning". Finally the last Officer was Brad Mickel, a young, fairly good looking cop with an excellent build. None of the other cops had ever heard of him until now and aroused suspicion of many. He was carrying the twelve gauge Baikal double barrelled shotgun found on the mantel above the chiefs desk. " I have plenty shells , I count at least 50, but I am low on slugs, only got about 5". Next Eddie counted his own bullets for his Desert Eagle he found in one of his buddies lockers. He had an adequate amount. After that he asked Brian Yeates, the middle aged black security guard from the jewellery store next door. He had about 2 clips for his Beretta. Finally came Will Haron, a retired teacher who cleans streets as an old age hobby. He was one of those elderly people who just can't stop working. He was forced to used the only remaining gun. An old Smith and Weston M629C revolver that was found in the assembly room broom closest behind a lot of boxes of Scotty toilet paper and wrapped in an oil rag. It was a good handgun to say the least, and it was well suited for a man who only shot air guns as a kid. He had 2 lugers ( in other words 12 .44 bullets).
After the ammo assessment they had to figure out a plan to search the police station. The only areas they have searched were the lobby, the locker rooms, the assembly room and the hallway leading to the darkroom and evidence rooms. " I propose we split up into two teams," Eddie commanded, " I'll take six people and Captain Ryan will take the remaining six. My team will search the dark room, evidence room, chiefs office, and the roof top for any ammo or means of escape. Ryan's team will search the S.W.A.T. room, the remaining locker room, and the basement, more importantly the armoury located down there. Any objections?". No one person could come up with a better plan then that. They were slowly running out of ammo, food and drink from the vending machines and well patience to top it all off. Eddie looked around patiently, assumed that every one agreed and continued his speech " Fine then since every one agrees then I guess I'll make our teams up. Viv, Will, Harry, Don, and Brad come with me. That means that Vic, Fred, Hanna, Mike, and Brian will be going with Gerry". A few people nodded in acceptance, Brad wasn't one of them. Something was conspicuous about the way that mans alibi and since all most all the people alive were cops I think they might have questioned his story one time or another.
The two teams dispersed ammo correctly, suited up, ate, rested, and the next morning were heading off. The night had been uneasy for all the survivors. Filled with moaning and screaming from somewhere in the dismal silence they called the now dilapidated police station. They had four two way radios they found in the locker room to communicate with and warn if they found something useful. They wished each other good luck and good bye and left on there way.