AN: Two more shout outs, y'all! Here they come!
First one's for The Rose of Hedylogos – if you haven't checked out her fics yet, then you definitely should! She's got an epic one with Nick and Clem and all the rest called "Shadows on the Hill", and you should definitely check out the sequel called "Into the Darkness". Wellington's going downhill fast apparently XD Look them up, they're really awesome reads :D
Second's for Petulant Octopus, one of the very faithful reviewers for this story. She's constantly dishing out awesome advice that helps me improve, and her OC Katie is turning out to be one cunning, ruthless badass that we'll be seeing more of soon :D So thank you very much for the support!
And also, just wanted to mention that DethMarkDragoon's fic, "Together We Fall", is now up on the site, so please go and check it out when you get the chance!
Lastly, this chapter's going to be an OC-heavy one, so hopefully I don't completely butcher this :3 There won't be any POVs for this chapter, as I'm doing it in third person for this one.
Standing out in the cold all alone, with none of his other undead chums coming around to play with him, the walker mindlessly stands still on the spot. His arm has gotten caught in the rope that was once a part of his parachute, but the creature is incapable of escaping in this trapped state.
He's alright with that, though. He doesn't mind just chilling near the tree for hours on end, wasting away while other free walkers get to roam the countryside on their never-ending quest to snag a meal. This guy's got enough patience to wait until hell freezes over for some kind of sustenance to come traipsing along his way. He's got all the time in the world.
The flies would definitely be a nuisance for the guy if he was actually still alive – their incessant buzzing around his rotting, decaying flesh would be enough to drive anyone off the wall. The walker tried to eat some of the flies earlier just because they were the first things that really moved around, but those little suckers are much too fast for him. Within seconds the flies would bob and weave around his shambling limbs; saving themselves for the brief amount of time that they normally have to live anyways. It'll most likely be less than a week for their actual lifespan.
"Shit… Elliot, we've got another one."
"On it."
Upon hearing and smelling the scent of humans in the area, the dead man snaps his jaws hungrily and waves out his free arm in the hopes of grabbing a quick meal. Boy, would he ever like the taste of fresh meat today! It's been far too long!
The only problem? His so-called "free hand" is actually just a severed limb; cut off when his parachute got caught in the tree and he snapped the limb off before getting hung by his own strings. An unintentional suicide if there ever was one.
As Elliot draws near with a large stick in hand, the walker's growls get louder as his hungry eyes glaze over his prey. It could be so easy if the guy just stepped a little bit closer towards the walker's mouth, but there's no dice for him today. Swinging the branch like a baseball bat, Elliot knocks it out of the park as the stick bashes straight across the walker's face; sending chunks of blood and flesh to fling off in a disgusting manner. As Emily cringes and holds an arm over her nose to drive out the stench, Elliot smacks the beast around twice more until it finally lies dead. Its arm is still attached to the tree as Elliot lightly breaks its wrist.
"It's done," he remarks quietly while tossing the branch to the forest floor. "Should we check to make sure – "
"Of course we have to, Elliot. No need to ask," Emily interrupts as the man holds his hands up in defense. Looking as though she's going to be sick to her stomach, Emily reaches down into the walker's pant pockets, gagging as her fingers trace over some dried blood and guts through the fabric. Seven years of this hell and she still can't ever get used to that. "Ugh… god… The sooner we get out of here, the better," she remarks, wiping her hand on her jeans when she comes up empty-handed. "Have Josh and the girl moved yet?"
"Lets' find out," he suggests, flicking the radio to life and hearing a few crackling sounds through the speaker. "Racheal? You there? What's the status on our runaways, over?"
Waiting patiently for a few seconds, Elliot's stomach growls as he holds onto his gut with discomfort. The snacks they had brought along didn't last nearly as long as they thought they would, mostly due to the fact that they've been travelling for two days straight now. None of them really figured that the chase would lead them all the way up to the southern end of Missouri.
Of course, nobody really seemed to believe that Joshua would last this long with the blood loss, either. That woman that he's with works wonders, unfortunately.
"We're gonna find some food soon enough. Don't worry – Katie and Kelly won't let us down," Emily encourages, although she herself is starving too. What she wouldn't give for even the bottom of a can of peaches right now…
Sprung out of their thoughts, the two of them hear Racheal's tired voice on the other end of the line.
"Yeah… bastard's still here. Still can't believe he hasn't seen us yet," she admits, as their hunting party is fairly large and trying to sneak their way just up behind the pair has proven to be rather difficult. More than once, Josh and his companion have taken off like scared deer because of accidental noises coming from the bushes. Thankfully Josh is injured, so he can't exactly act like he normally would and just shoot anything on sight.
"Alright, let's make sure it stays that way," Elliot points out. "We'll come to you – don't let them out of your sight. We're on our way."
"If you didn't think I could handle it, then why did you hand this job off to – "
Turning the radio off before Racheal can finish her question, Elliot smirks a little as Emily chuckles at the childish antics he's portraying. For as long as she's known him, Elliot has never really responded too well to authority, or even others telling him what he can and cannot do. He used to compete with Racheal all the time over pretty much everything he could think of, but a little bit of resentment managed to take place when it seemed that she was always getting ahead, and always seemed to have the support of everyone in the group.
The tables must've turned then, once Clementine and the rest entered the picture. Although she never was the leader beforehand, Racheal had a sort of wise, elder-like influence among the group. There were never more than ten in their group at a time, but usually she was the one they'd go to for tactical advice. Elliot always thought that he could do a much better job, but did they listen? Did anyone ever listen to a damn thing that he said back there?!
No, not as far as he's concerned. And now he's out here in the sticks, chasing after some fucker who in his opinion should've been put down ages ago. The only thing that he's actually truly proud of in this hell of an existence anymore is his position in the armory – that's one thing that nobody can take away from him.
"Come on then, we'd better hurry," Emily ushers him onwards, patting him on the back as they leave the downed walker behind. "Or else we'll never hear the end of it. You know how annoyed they can get if we take too long."
"Wouldn't want them to be annoyed…"
The whirring sound above their heads has actually come to be pretty soothing for the three of them, up in an aircraft where the walkers wouldn't be able to get you. It almost makes them feel invincible; so well-protected that they could practically feel like gods. Their bird's-eye view of everything and everyone down below is just a sweet added bonus to the big number of perks being in this helicopter.
Ahh, now this is living…
Feeling a little bit of turbulence, Luna manages to stabilize the trio as Jake and Scott nervously hang onto the side doors. That might be one of the few minor gripes about travelling in such luxurious conditions – if something goes wrong, they're kind of screwed either way. Unfortunately, they've never been able to find parachutes to save them from falling to the earth like a pancake.
"Please tell me that we're almost there?" Scott remarks in a pleading tone, staring out the window with a concerned expression. "We've gotta be running low on gas now, right? Maybe we should just land on a building or something so that we can all have a bit of a breather…"
"Beam me down there then, Scotty!" Luna chuckles; her wisecrack about the Star Trek franchise not doing anything to brighten the guy's mood. "You know, I never really understood you. All this time up in the air, and yet you're still telling me that you're afraid of heights?"
"I'm not afraid of heights. I'm afraid of you losing control and crashing us straight into the asphalt!"
Glancing back to Jake for a brief moment, Luna mouths "heights" with a snigger while trying to keep the three survivors aloft.
Although their main objective was simply to scout out the surrounding eastern states by air, Jake, Luna and Scott all agreed on one thing – just because they're a part of this group, doesn't mean that they can't make their own decisions from time to time. Sure they went east… east out to Georgia, anyways. It still counts as scouting, but they're mainly here because of a rumour that was going around. Apparently, the city of Atlanta has some of the best aircraft parts around thanks to shipments that used to come in from some base called… Warner Robbins, they think. Whatever it was, it certainly piqued the interest of Jake and Scott, since where military aircraft equipment can be found, that usually also means military weapons, too.
And Luna? She's just happy to come along for the ride, as well as hitting up the run-down beer stores for any alcohol that they might still possess. Hey, someone should be allowed to have a little fun once in a while!
"What do you think they'll say when we come back with all this shit?" Jake asks, feeling excruciatingly bored ever since they passed over the Georgia state line a while back. "The group might not be too thrilled about us being gone for so long… What do we do if they ask where we've been?"
Huffing out a sigh, Luna shrugs her shoulders with indifference; a trait that Scott's noticed a lot over the past few weeks. Unless it's about flying, pranks or fueling her alcoholic addiction, Luna just doesn't seem to give a damn about anything anymore. The effects have somehow even transcribed over to her two companions in certain ways, as sometimes the both of them just don't feel like even getting up in the morning to do the same shit over and over again.
But Scott's never been one to want to venture down that dark path, and Jake's got a set of morals to match his sometimes unruly temper, so it typically all balances itself out.
"Who cares what they say? We'll just make up some bullshit excuse like we got cornered by a pack of walkers or something," she suggests, lowering the bird a little bit as the cloud cover gets more intense. "What, suddenly you're both afraid of a little curfew? Rules were made to be broken, gents! Feel the rush of it!"
"Rules are there for a reason, Luna! We just got here," Jake points out, glancing over at the tall buildings dotted throughout the city of Atlanta, "and I don't feel like getting booted out so soon. We've got something going, let's not spoil it…"
"Fine… just trying to spice things up a little bit. You two have got sticks so far up your asses…" she comments dryly, tapping the gas meter as she chuckles slightly. "Looks like we might be walking at this rate, boys! See anywhere for us to land? We've got more fuel tanks behind your seat there, Scotty."
Turning his head, sure enough the guy spots two semi-filled canisters of that magical liquid that's gotten them from point A to B more times than any of them can count. Diesel might not smell like roses once you pour the stuff in, but as long as it helps get them somewhere then Scott doesn't really mind too much.
"There," Jake points as Luna pokes her head to the side, "that's where we'll land. See it? There's a little park across the street down there. Scott, get your pistol ready just in case."
"You got it."
With as much precision as she can muster (which isn't a whole lot, all things considered), Luna delicately tries to land the helicopter on a field of lush, green grass that's clearly been growing consistently ever since humans basically disappeared. That's the one thing about the apocalypse – it takes a near-extinction event for the Earth to finally start the rebuilding process. Kind of a scary thing to think about, but Jake's not deterred as he steps onto the ground; his shaggy hair rustling in the wind as he takes down a walker that was hanging over by the slide.
This park looks like it hasn't even been touched for years, which is more than likely the case with Atlanta being overrun and everything before. It's eerie to come here for the three survivors, though, as the swing set slowly moves back and forth in the wind. Somewhere not too far, you can still hear a set of chimes that lets out a harmonious sound, but that only furthers the creepy emptiness of the place.
As the helicopter blades finally die down, Luna pops open the gas valve and gets set to work, mentioning how Scott and Jake should scavenge what they can while they wait. Neither of the guys think that they're gonna find much in the way of supplies out in a place like this, but agree to the suggestion nonetheless. You never know what people might skip over.
"That dead guy have anything good on him?" Scott asks, stealing a brief look over at Jake as he rolls the body onto its back. When Jake huffs out a frustrated sigh and shakes his head, Scott decides to give the teeter-totter a once-over. There's something odd about it though…
Noticing this, Jake frowns in confusion as he slowly follows in behind. "Scott, we're not out here to monkey around! We're looking for supplies, remember?"
Ignoring him, Scott squints his eyes as he spots the plaything in the distance. Fucking short sighted… he thinks to himself in frustrating, reminded that his glasses snapped in half last year. It's not as if the guy's as blind as a bat at long distances, but it's significantly more difficult without those lenses supporting him.
Finally getting up close to the see-saw, he bends down to look underneath one of the sides of it, and sure enough there's something pretty damn useful planted into the ground underneath.
Or at least, he thinks it could be useful. Scott's not entirely sure.
"The hell is this thing?" he questions, yanking the object out with a bit of force as if it's the sword Excalibur. It's some sort of yellow hook thing, unlike anything the boy's seen before, and he lightly brushes his hand over the sharp part at the top of it. Dried blood has been practically encrusted onto the metal as it's started to rust slightly – probably from one too many nights left out in the rain.
Swinging it around once or twice, Scott nods in satisfaction as he shows off the prize to Jake.
"It's almost like a mix of an ice pick and a pickaxe, ain't it?" Jake remarks, widening his eyes as he appears impressed with the nice find. "Who would just leave something like this out underneath a fucking teeter-totter? Seems like a pretty shitty spot to… oh."
Pointing over to a park bench, the two of them hustle on over towards it as they glance behind an overfilled trash bin, where sure enough, a tuft of blonde hair reveals the body of a woman lying dead nearby. Her skin has already started rotting away, and upon closer inspection there are several bite marks all along her left arm and one by her neck.
A bullet wound through her right temple reveals that she had no choice but to end it herself, as Jake carefully takes the gun out of her rotted hand.
"I wonder if she was alone when this happened…" Scott mentions as she looks over the body once more. "Damn… the corpse looks pretty fresh to me – I'd reckon only a week or so at the most."
"How can you tell something like that?"
Pointing out some of the signs, Scott goes into researcher mode as he describes his findings. "The hair still hasn't fallen out just yet so right off the bat you can already tell," he remarks with a shrug. "Her skin hasn't completely deteriorated yet, and…" he trails off, looking rather grossed out as he opens the woman's eyelids up a tad, "those haven't decayed yet. See? Fresh corpse."
"…remind me to bring you in as a detective next time," Jake compliments as Luna hollers for them to return. "Take that hook with you – I don't think she'll be needing it anymore."
Clenching his hand tightly around the grip, Scott promises to take good care of the thing as he steps up and returns to the helicopter with his fellow comrades. The blonde-haired, brown-eyed badass remains as dead as a doorknob, with none of them aware of what her true identity was once upon a time.
Leaving the park behind, the trio soar higher into the sky as they begin their search once again.
"Alright, up and at 'em. Come on, Josh, get off your ass and move!" Fiona ushers, getting a cold, menacing stare from the guy as she rolls her eyes. "Don't start bitching at me, alright? The sooner we move, the sooner we can get back to the base and get you patched up. Ranger's Grove is only a few miles away now…"
Not budging right away, Joshua looks at the ground in frustration, not used to being the person who's incapable of defending himself or doing anything productive in general. The bullets may not have incapacitated him as much as he had believed, but without a few days of rest at least, the guy's still basically a walking corpse.
Of course though, in typical fashion, he won't ever admit that.
"I don't take orders from you, bitch! You're the newbie around here, so don't you try and – "
Smacking him roughly across the face, Fiona towers over him as he sits on the log; flabbergasted that she'd have the audacity to do such a thing. "You call me that again, and the gun's next. Leave your fucking sexist comments to yourself, alright? Honestly, you're this close from me just leaving your sorry ass behind."
Watching this all go down from behind a tree a good distance away, Racheal whistles quietly in astonishment. Even though they're both technically the enemy, she can't help but root for this Fiona girl a little bit. She's got no idea how awesome it feels for somebody to finally start putting this rabid dog back in its place – he should've gotten the message by now.
You go, girl, she internally says with a smug look on her face, although that look turns more serious when Fiona actually does manage to start getting the asshole up and moving. "Kelly? Katie?" she calls out through the radio, noting how everyone else is already back. "Wrap it up with the hunting – the assholes are starting to move again."
Hearing a sigh on the other end of the line and taking that as acceptance from Katie, Racheal places her walkie-talkie back into her pocket as she scurries down the hill to join the rest of the exhausted group members. Kazuki's got her head leaned up against Alden's shoulder while trying to doze off, and the guy seems like he's too drained to even care.
Noticing her return, Emily wanders on over to Racheal as she hands her one of the spare guns.
"Are we all set? Katie and Kelly should be back any minute now – look alive, will you?" Racheal comments, nudging Alden with her foot as he groans in exhaustion. "You sound like fucking Chewbacca right now – on your feet, both of you. They're mentioned heading back to Ranger's Grove, so it shouldn't be much farther now. We can just check the map and finally be done with this whole thing."
"Well if you already know where they are, then can't you just wait a little while? It's not like they're going anywhere…" Alden comments sleepily, getting pissed as Racheal incessantly nudges him in the side. "Jesus Christ, Racheal! Knock it off already! We've been at this for two days with almost no rest! Just give us a fucking break!"
Glaring sharply at the man, but also realizing that this is probably just the exhaustion talking, Racheal shakes her head as she spots Kelly and Katie slowly walking towards them; a fresh kill in hand as Katie holds up a weasel by its hind legs.
"If you wanna stick around here and get eaten by a pack of walkers, be my guest," Racheal remarks indifferently, causing Alden to glare at the ground. "But the rest of us are moving on – we can rest when we're dead. Until then, we're moving in on these assholes and seeing what's up."
"Since when were you one to follow the little pipsqueak's orders?" Katie questions, doubtful over whether or not she was being truthful with their conversation a while back. "I would've figured this would be the shit you'd never want to do. This is a class A example!"
Confused, Emily looks between the two women sharply as she begins to suspect that something's going on here. She really likes to be in the loop on matters that occur within the Fireflies, and when it involves some of her closer friends, it's just that much more important to her.
"What do you mean by that?" she asks Katie, but Racheal clears her throat loudly as she cuts the woman off. "Racheal, what the hell are you two talking about? What's going on?"
"It's nothing," Racheal insists, casting Katie a sharp glare as she points out over the hill. "Look, the longer we stand here talking, the more dangerous it gets out here. So just drop it and let's get going."
Wanting to turn around and head out, Racheal is stopped in her tracks as Emily snatches her wrist and pretty much glues her on the spot. No matter how much she tries, she can't move out of Emily's firm grip, which annoys the hell out of her.
"You're not leaving until I get some answers – nobody is," she remarks pointedly as Kelly and Katie stop in their tracks.
Seeing no other options than to tell her friend at least a little bit of the truth, Racheal sighs deeply before conceding; rubbing her wrist tenderly as she's released. "Remember what Jane told us? Before we left?" she questions the group members, who slowly nod as they try and figure out what this has to do with anything. "Clementine is in a dark, depressing place, and we need to help bring her out of it – those were her exact words. You do realize the kid's losing it, don't you? Obviously the stress is getting too much for her to handle, and her two little chums are there pretending to be for moral support because they feel bad for her!"
Kazuki, after being aroused from her slumber from all the commotion, groggily shakes her head to defend her friend.
"That's not true! Clem's just had to make some tough choices that nobody else could make! Don't complain about her because you couldn't make nearly the same decisions!" she argues, trying to stand up for the fifteen year old on Clementine's behalf. However, with a swift glare shot out from Racheal, she gulps and stands down a little bit. Kaz feels pretty strongly about her older pal, mostly because she was the one who took her in after it seemed that nobody else really wanted to. She feels that she kind of owes Clem in a sense, but deep down Kazuki knows that that's something she won't be able to repay.
The defensive remarks while she's away will have to do for now.
"Do you honestly believe that she could run this group without our help? We're their lifeline!" Katie steps in, pointing at the ground for added effect. "We're the backbone of this group right here – if we weren't busting our keesters off, kicking ass and taking names all day long, then the Fireflies wouldn't even exist! They'd be fucked!"
"They need us, not the other way around," Racheal adds in with determination, her intentions still rather unclear to the vast majority of the people who've gathered around. "Clem's still a kid, whether she chooses to believe it or not. If she can't handle the heat, then it's up to us to see things through and get shit done. Why should we have to answer to them? To the inner council? Why can't we just govern ourselves?"
"…because they took us in."
Turning their heads in surprise, everyone glances over as Elliot of all people is the one to speak up about this. Nobody expected him to have an input, as everyone always just assumed that he wasn't a big fan of Clem, Jane or Lilly. His actions when they first met certainly made Emily feel that way.
But what they don't realize is that, in truth, he's developed quite a bit of respect for the teen.
"They put a roof over our heads; took us in when they could've just left," he lists off, pulling his hood over his head to keep his ears from getting cold. The wind's picking up pretty strongly today. "I get what you guys are saying, but the fact of the matter is that we're all on the same side. They've said that they only want what's best for the group, and if getting this punk out of the way is how we're gonna do it, then I'm on board. Clementine and the rest haven't wronged us yet, so why start plotting behind their backs now?"
Holding her hands out in defense, Racheal tries to make herself clear before people start insinuating things. "We're not plotting anything, alright? We just have to question sometimes when – "
"I'm gonna stop you right there," Elliot shakes his head, not wanting to hear anymore. "Until they start becoming an actual threat to us and screw us all up, we need to act like a team and do what we were meant to do. Have you already forgotten what this means?" he ponders, holding up his metallic Firefly pendant as everyone instantaneously fiddle around with theirs without even thinking about it. "We can't live like barbarians anymore! If nobody else is gonna even try, then it's up to us to set things right! We can actually start something with these people; not just try to get rid of the authority and make off like bandits! We start turning on each other, and we're no better than anyone else out there…"
Falling silent as they see that none of the other group members are too thrilled about their ideas, Racheal places her hands in her pockets as she concedes defeat – temporarily, at least. She knows that she's not always right about everything, but this is one of the few times that she's unwilling to accept that she's wrong. Racheal could see it in the kid's eyes when they first met – Clementine is not to be taken lightly, and she's more than likely the most dangerous person within the Fireflies.
Or at least she will be, once she gets a little older and more skilled with a variety of weapons.
It isn't just the gun training that has her concerned, however. It's also a combination of the power she holds, the way that she carries herself mechanically through almost every stressful situation, and how neutral she can be at times when emotions are running high. Sure, the kid has her faults like everyone else, and occasionally Racheal will catch a brief glimpse of her letting her guard down when she thinks nobody else is looking… but she's come to realize a rather disturbing, more sinister fact about the fifteen year old leader.
It doesn't just startle Racheal with the way that she can manage through the apocalypse. It fucking terrifies her. The girl's basically grown up in this hell, and has basically lost all notion of what a normal, non-apocalyptic society really was even like. Kazuki has as well in a way, but hers is more subdued. Clem's taken on an entirely new identity, and it's not exactly one that Racheal feels really comfortable with.
Knowing that she'll be overstepping her boundaries if she speaks of this any further, Racheal follows the rest of the group down the hill as a slight overcast hangs above them. It's likely going to rain soon, so whatever they're going to do better be quick.
"One day," Katie whispers to her, seemingly coming out of nowhere, "they'll see things our way. When their world comes crashing down around them, and the head honchos fall apart, they'll all open their eyes to see the bigger picture. And on that day…"
"We'll be ready," Racheal finishes, concerned not only for herself, but the group as a whole with the direction that they're heading towards.
Because sooner or later, somebody's gonna end up dead.
"Shit, where'd he go?!" Kelly whispers urgently, hiding behind an abandoned brick, suburban home with Alden and Kazuki as they try to figure out where their little rabbit named Joshua had just scurried off to. "Great, came all this way just to lose sight of the bastard… Anyone see him out there?"
Furrowing his brow, Alden sprints over behind a broken-down car as he looks out through both of the windows with a pistol in his grasp. They're definitely out of the woods, but unfortunately they've dived right into the frying pan. This whole place is Ranger's Grove apparently, though the three of them have yet to see many guards. A couple of passersby just chatting away, but no whole platoons yet.
"Can't see anything from back here," he admits with a scowl, banging his fist lightly against his thigh. "We need to get a closer look. Kaz, can you radio Emily and tell them to meet us over by that soccer field? It's a few blocks down," he points to the left a little bit as the girl nods. Shouldn't be too difficult for the rest of the group to spot from… wherever it is they split off to.
Listening for the beep on the older model-device, Kazuki clears her throat as she tries to explain things in simple terms. "Umm… Emily? Are you there? We're meeting over by the soccer field a little ways ahead. Are you guys okay?"
Not hearing anything for a moment, Kazuki waits patiently but moves up along with her friends as they book it over to the next house. The neighbourhood would've been basically deserted if Joshua's group hadn't come along, but something's weird in the girl's mind. Out of the few ones that they've seen, only Joshua is the one that she really recognized – nobody else in the camp so far. You'd think after being with them for so long that she'd at least remember somebody, but all of these guys are total strangers.
"…bzzt… H-hello? Kelly is that… bzzt… you…?"
Handing the radio back to the medical assistant, all three of the survivors recognize the voice, but nobody understands how that would even be possible at this point.
"James?" Kelly remarks questioningly. "Is that you? How are you able to reach us from here? We're all the way in Missouri!"
"I'm using a machine…. Bzzt… in the Space Centre. Transmits signals from far away," he explains as the response becomes clearer. The telephone wires must've still caused some interference even though they're not in use anymore. "But that's not important. Where did you say you were? Missouri? You chased him all the way there?"
"To Ranger's Grove, yeah," she replies, but almost dropping the radio on the pavement as they come to the street across from the soccer fields. The shock of what they're seeing right now is almost too much for them to believe. "Oh my god…"
"What? Kelly, you still there? What is it? What's going on?!"
It's an entire colony that's been established here, though from the looks of it, things must've gotten heated between the different groups at one point. There are dead bodies just rotting in the fields surrounding them, but the masses of survivors don't really seem to pay them much mind. There's got to be over one hundred of these guys as far as any of them can tell, all armed and dangerous as they go about their business. There are fires still burning some of the tents to the ground as huge columns of smoke waft up into the air and are carried off by the wind, while some people hang by their necks on the huge, cement light poles. Some of them are simply tied up and beaten senselessly by their amused captors, but most are just conversing with one another as if nothing's happening.
At the center of it all stands Tracy, watching over all the camp as she stands up on a podium. The thing was more than likely just sitting there before, since nobody leaves a big-ass podium thing in the middle of the soccer fields for no reason. Perhaps it was a tournament or something – Kelly, Alden and Kaz aren't very sure.
What they do know, is that clearly Tracy's somehow assembled together a mosh pit of survivors, whether by their own choice or not.
Picking the radio up again and bringing it to her mouth, Kelly finds the strength to speak again as she clicks on the button.
"You might wanna send Jane, Lilly and the rest down here… take the truck, you'll get here faster…" she remarks, wondering how this could possibly get any worse. "I think… I think we might be fucked…"