They finally made it. The bridge would be the last obstacle in their way before being rescued for good from this damn hell.
The voices on the other end of the radio seemed surprised that there would be survivors left in New Orleans. It didn't matter to Nick; he just wanted to get out of this God-forsaken shit hole. It really didn't help with the impending doom of getting blown to bits by being bombed if they took too long, either. Seeing those jets fly by while they made their way through the city was unnerving on its own.
"I'm telling you, as soon as we get to the evac center they are going to line us up along the wall and shoot us dead." The sound of the bridge lowering caught his attention; he hadn't really noticed when Coach pushed the button. There was no time to think in times likes these. This was their final battle, their last stand. He didn't have time to think or to look back on what has happened just yet. Right now, all he needed to do was to fight and run.
The first thing he noticed were the vehicles.
They littered the freeway like people abandoned them and just left them running. It was almost impossible to climb over some of the cars, considering there were also large sections of concrete missing from the bridge in some areas. The infected just kept coming, the gambler having resorted to using his frying pan he'd picked up from one of the local's houses earlier to clear his way through them. Despite their best team work, he noticed how the large groups caused them to slow down and that they were still taking significant damage even though they hadn't even made it a quarter of the way there yet. Somehow, he had the feeling it wouldn't only be the common infected on this bridge, and he really hoped his gut feeling wouldn't be right in this case.
" Up o'er this here truck. There's a ladder on the back o' it." Ellis had taken to the front position of the group, them working in something similar to the box formation only more loose. Nick gave a final swing to an infected individual's head, and once he heard the satisfying clatter of the cast iron meeting cranium did he turn to climb up the ladder after the hick. Once he was atop the truck, the conman almost felt his stomach sink. The bridge was a lot longer than he first thought, and it would probably be a very tight ten minutes to get to the helicopter off the ramp. Regardless, he kept moving and continued his relentless attack against the hordes of zombies which came from nowhere. The entire city had to be on this bridge alone. And damn was his arms getting tired from swinging a cast iron skillet around, plus the recoil of it hitting multiple bodies at once.
Somewhere along the way there had been a brief stop for ammo, Nick picking up an extra adrenaline shot for when he needed it and had handed his pills over to Rochelle. He grabbed extra ammunition for his desert cobra and his sniper rifle. It felt like forever: pushing their way through waves of zombies, the yelling, the sounds of military jets flying over the bridge, the distant sound of the chopper at the end of the bridge, and the ever present threat of either being incapacitated or even perhaps falling off the bridge. He had forgotten the hunch he'd gotten earlier, his mood lifting once they were over the main obstacles in the middle of the bridge. The military must have already dropped bombs there, considering pieces of the bridge were elevated above the rest and they were forced to climb over them and waste more time getting to safety.
The entire trek over the bridge had his blood pumping. Nick could've swore he heard something in the distance, the sound of metal scraping concrete but he didn't let it phase him. The sound of his heartbeat in his ears overpowered the sounds of clanging, moans, and gun fire. The group was almost there, and he couldn't wait to get his sorry ass on that God damned helicopter. "Hurry up people, it's not much further." It certainly felt like more than ten minutes by this time, but once the helicopter came into view and they were making their way down the ramp did he feel like time completely stopped. The roars of a Tank always made his heart drop. Oh, hell to the fucking no.
He'd gone through hell and back the past couple of weeks-or however long they've been out here, it was hard to even tell the day of the week anymore-, they were on their way to their last chance of surviving this shit, and a Tank decides to show up just as they're about the round the fences leading to the helicopter? Oh. Hell. No. He hadn't used his sniper that much on the whole way over the bridge, so as they neared the enormous thing he took one last swing with his frying pan to clear his general personal space and pulled his sniper from his back. The gun still had a good laser sight on it, and the scope had only a few flecks of blood on it from close combat. Luckily someone managed to throw a molotov towards the Tank, catching it on fire, though Nick hadn't noticed who it was to congratulate them on their good aim. He aimed through the scope and began unloading the bullet after bullet at the oncoming beast.
In the distance he could hear the helicopter's blades slicing the air in the most noisily way possible and the Tank was beginning to get closer to him. Sure, the sniper rifle did good damage to it plus it was on fire, but that meant it was going to come towards him because the others were firing at it with other weapons. He began to move backwards, through the small maze of fences while the tank angrily charged after him. "What the ffff-" A group of infected came up behind him and started attacking him, not allowing him to go any further. He quickly turned, the end of the rifle shoving them back a bit so he could put it away and pull out his Magnum. His heart must've been pounding hard, because the sounds of that Tank getting closer and the rumbling of the ground had him glancing over his shoulder every chance he got. He raised the pistol and began shooting the infected in front of him, brain matter, flesh, and blood spraying into the air and splattering his face. It was disgusting, yes, but it got the job done and the bodies fell quickly. Most of said bodies were now headless, thanks to his well-rounded aim he'd gotten over their journey.
As soon as he moved to turn back around he saw the Tank standing in front of him, roaring and raising a flaming arm up to knock him back. He instinctively grabbed his adrenaline shot and jabbed it into his leg, getting the rush immediately and stumbling back out of the way as the force of the Tank's arm swiping in front of him pushed him back. It luckily had missed him, and he began making a mad dash for the helicopter as the others of the group were shooting the Tank from behind it. As he rounded the last of the security fence, he heard the familiar rumble of the ground as the Tank fell to it's death; it not being able to handle the onslaught of bullets and fire blazing over it's body all at once. It was one of the most intense thirty seconds of his life so far. He took his Magnum once more and cleared off the few loitering infected that were running around near the helicopter. "Everybody in the chopper. NOW."
Luck was on their side time, and Nick was kind of glad he was able to see his new friends escape this hell with him.
A/N: This was a sample post for a roleplay application for Nick... It was so long, I decided to just put it here. It kind of resembles a fanfic anyways. So here you go. I haven't wrote in a while anyways.