High Noon

[Robin McCoy]

Robin drew Shiloh up to a stop, and surveyed the town from the slight hill they were on, just east of town. Perched atop the tall sorrel gelding, she had a good view of the town, and all the way around her as well. Her parents were in there, somewhere. At least she hoped they were. Two days ago they went to town to stock up on supplies. The phones had already been dead by then, and the TV broadcasts had stopped, not that any of them mentioned a small town like Brenshaw anyways. Their nearest neighbors said that the local AM station had mentioned the old Worthington place, but the report of it as a gathering point was only rumor. They went off the air before they could confirm it one way or another.

Two days... they should have been back in a couple of hours. It was only about ten miles into town, give or take. She pulled the walkie-talkie from her pocket, and hit the call button so that the one at the other end would beep. She waited a minute, but getting no response she slipped the unit back into her pocket. It was supposed to have a 35-mile range, but in practice, getting a signal from the house to town was hit & miss. She should be able to get them now though, unless they'd gone down to main street she reasoned. Yah, maybe they'd gone there. Right. Maybe they were doing a little sight-seeing at city hall too, she thought with a slight snort.

Robin pulled the collar of the well-used duster a little higher and the brim of the stetson lower to ward off the cold, then nudged the horse forward. She wasn't going to find anything standing up here staring. They needed to be careful though. The crazies were dangerous, that much had been clear before the broadcasts stopped. She'd been sure to slow back down from the trot they'd used to get to town, so her horse would be fresh. She wanted him ready for a quick get-away if needed.


ooc: Location would be slightly off the map - R6 - heading into town.

[John Oleson]

John had been walking since sunrise. His legs were tired and he felt dirty. There was no food left in his bag and the train station looked empty. Hopefully the town wasn't. Despite his jacket, gloves and watch cap he felt cold. And dirty. "How the hell did it come to this?" he thought to himself.

He and his platoon had been helping evacuate residents when a swarm of the infected had gathered. Things hadn't gone well after that. He tried not to think about the desperate screams and the gunfire. Find Captain Hobbar. That was the last thing he'd heard before they'd all been separated. That was the day before yesterday. He'd been walking ever since. Following the railroad. Everywhere was empty. Dead. Eerily so. He had seen another soul. He'd taken up overnight in the next town over. It had been empty too. Well, empty except for all of the infected. The sound of distant gunshots had woken him during the night. He hadn't gotten back to sleep.

Now he was crouching behind a signal box, peering along the tracks at the train station. He couldn't quite make out the sign. But it didn't really matter. He listened closely. There was only the wind. He ran his fingers over the handle of the knife. That was all he had. A goddam knife. That wasn't much use. Not against the infected. And hardly better against anyone else. Not with a gun anyway. He cursed himself for not having any of his gear with him. No rifle. No supplies. Not even any ammunition for the sidearm on his belt. He quickly looked around him. Still no signs of anything.

He crept along to the platform of the station. It was small and deserted. The same went for the street outside. The sign read Brenshaw. The station office wasn't locked and a quick rummage through the draws produced a candy bar and some pens and a notebook. They all went into his satchel. It was then that he looked through the dirty window up to the hill overlooking the town. He'd noticed it on the way along the tracks, and thought it'd be worth a look once he got closer to town. Seeing the lone figure on the hill he quickly ducked, conscious of his silhouette. Were they looking at him? Had they seen him coming along the tracks?

[Robin McCoy]

Robin began to ride slowly into town, taking her time and not rushing to get there. She was nervous, and her horse was picking up on it, spooking from every little shadow. That or he really sensed something that she didn't yet, and it was making him jumpy. She reached inside her duster, feeling the bulk of the pistol she had in a cross-carry holster on her belt. She would have preferred a rifle, but her father had loaned those to her uncle at the end of the summer for hunting this fall. Daddy never did have very good timing. At least she’d found the pistol, though she wished her parents would have thought to have taken it with them. Her heart sank as she momentarily thought of the worst, but she shook it off. No time for woolgathering now. She had to stay alert. If they were holed up somewhere, they might need help and she might be the only help they were going to get.

She’d put her hair up to keep it out of her face before she’d left the house. While it wasn’t planned that way, between the hat and duster, plus being mounted on a tall quarter horse, it was pretty hard to tell it was a girl. She had on leather gloves against the cold, so her hands didn’t give away the illusion, and the collar of the long coat covered part of her face.

Robin scanned every doorway, bush, large tree… everywhere one of those things might be hiding. It hadn’t dawned on her that they weren’t necessarily smart enough to hide. She had no experience with them, so she was thinking in terms of big predators like mountain lions; something that would stalk you if they could and had a mind to. A big cat couldn’t be as bad as these things though. They only killed and ate you. With these, you became one of Them, if even half the stuff on TV had been true, assuming they left enough of you intact to reanimate.

Robin shivered, and it had nothing to do with the temperature...


ooc: moving alongside the railroad tracks, Q6/Q5