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xp_logsAs it gets toward sundown, the group decides to seek shelter again for the night. They don't know the hunting patterns of the zombies and they need to look for more supplies for Rahne and for themselves.
Natasha was in the passenger seat as they pulled in toward the abandoned warehouse. It was large enough to hide their vehicle within the building itself, if they could get one of the loading bay doors open. Hopefully it also still contained supplies and hadn't been picked clean in the intervening years since the outbreak had happened. If nothing else, it'd be shelter for the night and then they'd move on in the morning.
Once the vehicle came to a stop, Jean hopped out and scanned the loading bay door closest to them which was illuminated by headlights before returning to the vehicle.
"Seems to be locked. Good sign for supplies, bad sign for getting in. I can open the door but the noise will probably draw attention if there's any zombies around. Let's be on the lookout and be prepared to fight. Laurie, Natasha, stay with Rahne. Xavin, Felicia, stick with me. Once we get the door open we can take a look around and see if it's safe to bring the vehicle in," she said.
Waiting for their responses, Jean nodded, then held out her hand. The lock rattled before snapping off the handle with a crunch. She glanced around, pausing a moment, then lifted her hand up. The door, caked with rust, was stuck at first, as a couple of thuds and rattles were heard. Jean grunted, clenching her fist, and gave it one big tug as the door seemed to open with a scraping noise and a screech.
Immediately glancing around, Jean listened for the sounds of movement, inside or out.
Laurie had tensed the moment Jean used her powers to open the door, her gaze scanning the darkness and ears straining for any sound of clicking. She couldn't imagine what had happened to this world, or where they'd been while such a thing occurred. Why hadn't anything helped? Surely with the world's supply of geniuses this couldn't have happened without a great many people dying quickly.
"It would appear that there are no zombies within hearing distance."
Xavin shifted back following the all-clear, rocky form sliding back into skin. The piece of rebar they were carrying as a weapon became heavier but that was okay. They shifted it to carry the weight across one shoulder and fanned out away from the door. There were shelves and cupboards and Xavin moved toward them, trusting the others to follow. Most just contained rubbish.
No zombies in hearing or smelling distance, Rahne mentally added. She didn't have the strength to voice it out loud. She could almost feel her healing factor working overtime to counteract the poison in her system. The wolf wanted to come out so badly she wanted to scream from the pressure. Was this what an actual werewolf felt like, she thought, bouncing off a wall without noticing.
Brushing past Rahne, Felicia made her way ahead, not at the front, but along the sides, where it was a little darker. Her eyes flicked up, at the high loft ceilings, the steel pillars and brick walls separating what appeared to be a garage and moving area of sorts from the building. "There's no way this place is empty," she announced quietly, having counted the various exits.
Natasha was just behind her. "My thoughts too. It's too good of a location. Everyone be on your toes," she said quietly. She hefted the crowbar they'd managed to pick up when scavenging for weapons. She'd much prefer a gun or something else long range especially in this body, but those had probably been the first things to go, along with the ammo.
Jean froze, abruptly turning as if hearing something.
"We need to leave, now. There are people coming. Live ones. They're prepared to kill," she said.
"Can you tell how many minds?"
Laurie didn't wait for an answer to start heading back to the car, Jean could answer well enough to her back as to her face and years of training meant that when a telepath told you to get out of Dodge, you got.
"15," Jean said. "All heavily armed."
She paused, rolling her eyes at their thoughts. "And sadistic assholes."
"Oh, that's lovely," Rahne muttered, wiping sweat from her eyes. "This is why I don't read these bloody kinds of stories. Everyone's either dead or they're cannibals."
Felicia made a noise of agreement as she put out an arm, herding the group away from the open and around to some cover.
Natasha sighed and wished she had her adult body. "Always nice to know that humanity defaults to its worse characteristics when times get tough," she muttered to herself. Not that it would do any good against a mob. It was like they just couldn't catch a break right now.
Xavin turned, stumbling on trash and fell, dropping the rebar. They reached for it, stretching one arm far longer than it could go, scrambling back onto their feet and running for the car. Stupid picked over warehouse. Stupid zombies. Stupid abandoned cities that made doing a thirty mile trip into a several days long saga. Stupid asshole survivalists that they all had to run away from. Hadn't these jerks heard of working together? They tried to shift again and couldn't so gave up, rock ghosting across exposed skin to vanish.
The survivalist group descended swiftly upon them, footsteps eerily silent where there should have been thundering beats. Anyone who paid attention would have noticed blue bubbles surrounding their feet like clunky space boots, though those did nothing to muffle the angry shouts that went up once they realized their prey had gotten an unintended head start on them.
Amidst the crowd was a dirty redhead, blue energy streaming from her palms even as her eyes narrowed imperceptibly as the identities of their targets became clear to her. "Jean."
Perhaps in all the chaos Jean hadn't noticed. Perhaps it was also due to some really good psi shields. Either way, the appearance of the other woman was a surprise.
"Rachel?" she said, but did nothing to tell the rest of her group to stop running. Just because Rachel was on their side didn't meant the others were, and wouldn't hesitate to try to attack in those moments in between.
"What the hell is going on?"
As if in response, a resounding chorus of shouts peppered with furious and colourful cussing rang out. and their pursuers came crashing to a literal halt. Rachel's hands curled into tight fists, and the blue space booties gathered together at the speed of magnetic attraction, pulling the survivalists into flight as one single mass of colliding bodies. There may have been some sickening crunches of bone as weapons clattered to the ground, but all sound abruptly cut out next as a blue psionic shield snapped into place around the fifteen people hanging mid air by their ankles.
At any other time, it may have painted a fairly hilarious picture. But no one was laughing just then as they took in the lithe form of Rachel Kinross-Dayspring standing under them, dirt-streaked face clearly lit in the glow of her shifting powers. She met the group's stares face on, her own searching gaze darting between each member of their group. Then, after searching long and hard for the right words to break the silence, she said: "Sorry about that."
Rachel winced internally even before the words came out of her mouth. "We should go. I'll explain later." After all, this was hardly the best time to find the right words to explain that she had thought that she was trapped in the situation alone, and that she had merely settled for what seemed like the best way of fending for herself and surviving in yet another apocalyptic world. And when Rachel turned to watch her previous companions thud back to Earth from the backseat of a car, she felt a mixed bundle of relief and regret settle heavily onto her chest and wondered at the familiarity of it.
Sorry about that.
Natasha was in the passenger seat as they pulled in toward the abandoned warehouse. It was large enough to hide their vehicle within the building itself, if they could get one of the loading bay doors open. Hopefully it also still contained supplies and hadn't been picked clean in the intervening years since the outbreak had happened. If nothing else, it'd be shelter for the night and then they'd move on in the morning.
Once the vehicle came to a stop, Jean hopped out and scanned the loading bay door closest to them which was illuminated by headlights before returning to the vehicle.
"Seems to be locked. Good sign for supplies, bad sign for getting in. I can open the door but the noise will probably draw attention if there's any zombies around. Let's be on the lookout and be prepared to fight. Laurie, Natasha, stay with Rahne. Xavin, Felicia, stick with me. Once we get the door open we can take a look around and see if it's safe to bring the vehicle in," she said.
Waiting for their responses, Jean nodded, then held out her hand. The lock rattled before snapping off the handle with a crunch. She glanced around, pausing a moment, then lifted her hand up. The door, caked with rust, was stuck at first, as a couple of thuds and rattles were heard. Jean grunted, clenching her fist, and gave it one big tug as the door seemed to open with a scraping noise and a screech.
Immediately glancing around, Jean listened for the sounds of movement, inside or out.
Laurie had tensed the moment Jean used her powers to open the door, her gaze scanning the darkness and ears straining for any sound of clicking. She couldn't imagine what had happened to this world, or where they'd been while such a thing occurred. Why hadn't anything helped? Surely with the world's supply of geniuses this couldn't have happened without a great many people dying quickly.
"It would appear that there are no zombies within hearing distance."
Xavin shifted back following the all-clear, rocky form sliding back into skin. The piece of rebar they were carrying as a weapon became heavier but that was okay. They shifted it to carry the weight across one shoulder and fanned out away from the door. There were shelves and cupboards and Xavin moved toward them, trusting the others to follow. Most just contained rubbish.
No zombies in hearing or smelling distance, Rahne mentally added. She didn't have the strength to voice it out loud. She could almost feel her healing factor working overtime to counteract the poison in her system. The wolf wanted to come out so badly she wanted to scream from the pressure. Was this what an actual werewolf felt like, she thought, bouncing off a wall without noticing.
Brushing past Rahne, Felicia made her way ahead, not at the front, but along the sides, where it was a little darker. Her eyes flicked up, at the high loft ceilings, the steel pillars and brick walls separating what appeared to be a garage and moving area of sorts from the building. "There's no way this place is empty," she announced quietly, having counted the various exits.
Natasha was just behind her. "My thoughts too. It's too good of a location. Everyone be on your toes," she said quietly. She hefted the crowbar they'd managed to pick up when scavenging for weapons. She'd much prefer a gun or something else long range especially in this body, but those had probably been the first things to go, along with the ammo.
Jean froze, abruptly turning as if hearing something.
"We need to leave, now. There are people coming. Live ones. They're prepared to kill," she said.
"Can you tell how many minds?"
Laurie didn't wait for an answer to start heading back to the car, Jean could answer well enough to her back as to her face and years of training meant that when a telepath told you to get out of Dodge, you got.
"15," Jean said. "All heavily armed."
She paused, rolling her eyes at their thoughts. "And sadistic assholes."
"Oh, that's lovely," Rahne muttered, wiping sweat from her eyes. "This is why I don't read these bloody kinds of stories. Everyone's either dead or they're cannibals."
Felicia made a noise of agreement as she put out an arm, herding the group away from the open and around to some cover.
Natasha sighed and wished she had her adult body. "Always nice to know that humanity defaults to its worse characteristics when times get tough," she muttered to herself. Not that it would do any good against a mob. It was like they just couldn't catch a break right now.
Xavin turned, stumbling on trash and fell, dropping the rebar. They reached for it, stretching one arm far longer than it could go, scrambling back onto their feet and running for the car. Stupid picked over warehouse. Stupid zombies. Stupid abandoned cities that made doing a thirty mile trip into a several days long saga. Stupid asshole survivalists that they all had to run away from. Hadn't these jerks heard of working together? They tried to shift again and couldn't so gave up, rock ghosting across exposed skin to vanish.
The survivalist group descended swiftly upon them, footsteps eerily silent where there should have been thundering beats. Anyone who paid attention would have noticed blue bubbles surrounding their feet like clunky space boots, though those did nothing to muffle the angry shouts that went up once they realized their prey had gotten an unintended head start on them.
Amidst the crowd was a dirty redhead, blue energy streaming from her palms even as her eyes narrowed imperceptibly as the identities of their targets became clear to her. "Jean."
Perhaps in all the chaos Jean hadn't noticed. Perhaps it was also due to some really good psi shields. Either way, the appearance of the other woman was a surprise.
"Rachel?" she said, but did nothing to tell the rest of her group to stop running. Just because Rachel was on their side didn't meant the others were, and wouldn't hesitate to try to attack in those moments in between.
"What the hell is going on?"
As if in response, a resounding chorus of shouts peppered with furious and colourful cussing rang out. and their pursuers came crashing to a literal halt. Rachel's hands curled into tight fists, and the blue space booties gathered together at the speed of magnetic attraction, pulling the survivalists into flight as one single mass of colliding bodies. There may have been some sickening crunches of bone as weapons clattered to the ground, but all sound abruptly cut out next as a blue psionic shield snapped into place around the fifteen people hanging mid air by their ankles.
At any other time, it may have painted a fairly hilarious picture. But no one was laughing just then as they took in the lithe form of Rachel Kinross-Dayspring standing under them, dirt-streaked face clearly lit in the glow of her shifting powers. She met the group's stares face on, her own searching gaze darting between each member of their group. Then, after searching long and hard for the right words to break the silence, she said: "Sorry about that."
Rachel winced internally even before the words came out of her mouth. "We should go. I'll explain later." After all, this was hardly the best time to find the right words to explain that she had thought that she was trapped in the situation alone, and that she had merely settled for what seemed like the best way of fending for herself and surviving in yet another apocalyptic world. And when Rachel turned to watch her previous companions thud back to Earth from the backseat of a car, she felt a mixed bundle of relief and regret settle heavily onto her chest and wondered at the familiarity of it.
Sorry about that.
