BERLIN 2019

She tried to move her hand and it replied with a horrible pain, through numb muscles. Bullet probably glided the bone, which wouldn't be shocking, considering lack of weight in her body. Of course at first the weapon just landed in her feet and Joan stared at it with slightly perked up eyebrow.
" How the fuck you want me to shoot it? I can only use one bloody arm."
He didn't reply and Joan grunted angrily, picking the weapon up and throwing it over her shoulder. Useless for her, unless she stops, presses the stock into her stomach or side and then aims, using just one hand. And even then, considering that only gun she was good with, was her own hand one, that said aiming would be horrible. Not to mention recoil, that she was not familiar with.
Pointless, useless bullshit.
Frowning and sighing in dismay, she followed Johan, trying to catch up. Of course all her bad mood disappeared into empty nothing, when the infected showed up. While Johan shot one ahead, she shot one off her Grach to their left at the same time. After that she sped up, staying right behind the man.
" Should get to the tower as soon, as possible. Maybe they have someone to take care of him. There, in the truck!"
Now he remembered again, why she was useful - sharp eye. Had to have one, being a reporter in her life-before-the-worldwide-doom. Of course there was another infected, crawling out of the truck's cabin.

"What the fucking fucker's fucking fuck in the name... Motherfucker!" the man angrily spluttered as he staggered out the car and into the former clothing shop. He had received a series of nasty cuts across his face from the glass, and his left eye was slowly blackening. But apart from that, he was relatively lucky. Of course, he would say differently.

Rapidly fumbling through the load on the back of the useless car, he took as much as he could as fast as possible, loading everything onto his waist and over his shoulder. He kept his gun and bat unsheathed though, remaining inside the building and anxiously watching the street outside.
"Come at me, bro" he sneered and pulled up his white, dirty and somewhat bloodied bandanna to his nose, tapping the handle of his rugged bat impatiently.

He was about to leave the shop when an all-too-familiar hiss sounded behind him, and with a startled cry he spun around and emptied the magazine of his handgun into the doorway leading into the storage of the shop, with the result of several, animal screeches emerging. Nothing appeared afterwards, but Dan was appalled by his useless waste of precious ammunition on one single infected, when he was well-aware that the bat would be sufficient. A build-up of adrenaline from the crash, maybe.

Finding his seat back in the load of the car, where it was probably safest, he eyed the hole in the windows and waited for any signs of life.
"Show yourself!"

Strangely enough, Joan seemed to be focused and silent, only grunting in pain, when she had to reload and use her second hand, that was still in horrible pain. Another shot down, Johan took care of another going for her - she in return shot one jumping on him out of nowhere. Fast ones.
" Those fucks are fast... We should speed up."
Quietly throw to Johan, as woman tries to avoid any close contact with the infected.
" Else this sack of meat and blood going to attract more of them. And me too."
Her last words trailed off, as Joan turned around and slammed the back of the grip into another infected's face.
" Motherfucking asshole, sneaking up on me... You, in the shop, move your ass, if you want to live!"
Lightly nudging Johan to speed up, as she glanced over her shoulder at the crawling masses of the infected. So many of them she haven't seen until now.
Holy shit... Where do they come from in such numbers?

Voices!
"I'm... I'm coming!" he let out with a strained voice, heaving himself up.
With an exasperated grunt, he removed himself from the load and dragged the half-empty cache of beer with him, after the bulky figure.
He'd worry about the odd size of the stranger, later. Now it was about survival. And yet...

"I have no valuables on me! No ammunition, only my bat" he lied out loud, hastily shoving the gun down one of the many pockets together with a six-pack of canned beer.

They didn't have to know until he was certain if they could be trusted.
If not... That big one had a rather nice gun.

Joan gave the stranger short glance, frowning lightly, and only then passed Johan the AK, obviously relieved of it's weight on her shoulders.
" Come on, no need to waste any more time, our tacoman will die, if we be any slower."
Woman glared at their new companion again, noting down the smallest details. Something was very uncomfortable about her sharp green glare, especially seeing, that redhead had typical fox-like face of a person, who will get to know the truth, no matter what way. She didn't comment anything, though, and just skipped after Johan, since he already started moving, the moment she passed back the weapon and their new 'friend' followed up.

"Hand me gun!" the stranger called out, clutching his bat tightly in case the zombies would get close. He didn't seem exhausted, having been rather well-off with his beer and the truck, so he was spring-loaded with energy.

When nobody complied, he grunted quietly, and peeked around the corner anxiously.
"Can we move soon? Tower is not far. Sooner, better."
He shook his head in vain.
Truly, he was anxious to go. As if there was more to it than the infected.

Joan grunted quietly, when Johan pulled her up, having to use wounded arm to hold on to the edge. Obviously, she was glad about that moment of rest they were catching, though. Letting herself calm down the breath and change the empty cartridge with the new one in the gun.
" Shut up, we'll go soon. You don't have to carry a heavy tacoman here, like he does."
Throwing a reply towards their new companion, redhead sighed and rubbed her arm just below the bandages, through her jacket. It was still numb and full of pain.

Attention returning to Johan, short nod towards the tower.
" Mister-I'm-in-a-hurry here has a point, we should just go for the tower. You go ahead, both of you, I'll cover our backs, distract them a little bit. You know I'm a good runner, they don't seem to be as fast, as those fucks you saved my ass from in Frankfurt. So you can just make it in one go to the tower and I will catch up."
She seemed to be serious, even her usual smirk disappeared off her lips.

Joan lighted up a cigarette, pressing it down between her teeth and inhaling deeply on the smoke. For a moment their new companion stared up at her and she smirked shortly.
" Get the fuck out. Go."
Nodding him to follow Johan - and he did so. Joan took another deep cloud of smoke in and only then lifted herself up on her feet, pulling the trigger first time - one of the followers fell down with a bullet through it's head.

Something strange was to those infected - a moment they follow, the other, suddenly, as if on command, turn around and crawl elsewhere. As if they smelled fresher blood somewhere, where they just came from. Taking a glance around, only now Johan noticed, that woman was nowhere close. He certainly heard her shooting, when he started to run, but where did she go then?
Luckily for him, infected were turning their backs to him - easy targets. Perhaps, his redheaded companion is the reason of their sudden change of plans?
Soundy shot somewhere away from the tower. Yep, she is the reason.

Turn, dive under the arc of fallen ruins, get up, run. Make as much difficult loops as you can.
The pattern was familiar to her, she didn't have to think much - just run and be dodgy in that. Pain, stinging in whole arm, was only spurring her up, adrenaline rushing through the body.
Make a circle there. Go... What's that, cinema? Might aswell, a lot of stairs. Shitty glass facade... Nothing left of it.
Quiet chuckle, as she disappeared in the labyrinth of halls and stairs.
Bleeding target with less weaponry on it - much better, than heavily equipped Johan by the tower.

The trio went, with the roars of the monsters trailing off behind them. No longer pursued, they didn't have to hurry so much, but they still ran - the Fernsehturm soon towered above them, and the way into the lobby became clear.
They had made it!

In front of the makeshift, armored gate, several canvas sandbags had been arranged in a defensive perimeter, which allowed the two, armed guards perfect control of the yard leading into the lobby of the tower.
They didn't seem impressed by the three strangers though, each of the two, army-clad men raising their MP5 carbines threateningly.
"Treten Sie zurück!" yelled one of the brusquely, looking down the ironsight at the large man.
"Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" asked the other.
None of them understood, and they switched to English.
"The wounded guy! Is he infected?"
The Dane promptly stated no.
"Who are you?"
He gave his name and nationality, and they didn't seem to linger at it, even though the wounded Terror wasn't accounted for.
"How long will you stay?"
"Until we're good to go", grunted the man.
"Good. And now quote the phrase."
Phrase?

Strangely enough, the infected were jumping down the shaft - last one of them fell in, as Johan landed a strike on it's head. Why did they jump there?
" So long, suckers."
Voice resounded from somewhere above. For a moment he decided to look in, but something told him not to - that strange feeling in the gut, people call intuition. And good thing he didn't, because a moment later the shaft roared and quaked, when the disabled cabin on a mad speed crushed down from the few floors above. A cloud of dust was the first thing that met the man a second afterwards, moving him even further away from the edge.
Only when the dust settled down, he heard a shuffle above - the second floor, of course. Half ruined terrace, that once was used for waiting out the time before the movie - some benches, few vending machines, that by now were empty, and such. Carefully leaning over the edge, Joan jumped down, landing somewhere behind the man. Of course it was followed by a loud exclamation, when she noticed him.
" Holy fuck, scared the hell out- What the fuck are you doing here? I said, I'll make it back in time."
She seemed fine, apart from obvious long run and few dusty squeezes here and there. Lost her sweater somewhere - or did she? He couldn't catch the scent of burned flesh, but it was there. Silence, that followed her question, didn't last long, as if she figured her strange position right now.
" I kinda distracted them with cloth soaked with blood, and while they were chasing it down, I burned down the wound to stop the bleeding and waited for more to show up down there. Old fucker needed a slight kick to crash down."
Obviously it didn't need just a kick, but she made her point clear.

Resting one fist on her waist, woman looked at Johan with strange expression on her face, that he haven't encountered before. Difficult to understand it - either disappointment or actually satisfaction with the situation? The wound indeed wasn't bleeding as much anymore, now that she moved a little and he could notice the hastily burned mark.
" Shouldn't have followed, I'd have been fine. I lived like that for what, two years now."
That didn't sound annoyed at all, even more so, when she stepped up, picked her jacket (only now he noticed it was thrown on the floor nearby) next to him and then wrapped her arms around the man shortly. Very shortly, but the gesture was more than clear.
Pulling the leather jacket on, she looked around.
" Well, lets get the fuck out of here, then. I was recording something, when that shitty radio on the recorder caught a transmission. Apparently they want a code-phrase at the tower."
Nodding lightly, she moved to the exit, as if nothing happened right now - not the crashed elevator, not the bunch of infected, that got slammed with it.

Confused. The woman did not follow logic. He sighted and just accepted it. Walking out of the place. Looking around as they left. Here and there dead infected lay, their dark blood sprayed over the gray walls. Outside silence had taken over and no living infected was in sight. It was almost peaceful.

During this walk Joan had time to notice. A cut in his armor. Covered in dark blood of infected. Skin not visible under the blood. He noticed it himself and with his other hand checked it carefully.

"No wound. I'll be fine."

Walking on. Ignoring questions. He looked up on the tower, and almost slowed down as if hesitating. He did not like the idea for some reason. They were almost at the gate. Hopefully the new guy had not gotten shot by the Germans yet. Hopefully.

Joan picked out another cigarette, without lighting it up yet, as they moved back to the tower. Giving the cut a glance with one narrowed eye, she just nodded on his comment, muttering quiet "okay" in approval. She did however notice his short moment of hesitation and arched one eyebrow lightly.
" We'll just see if they have a medic there for our tacoman, get a night in and leave, if you want. Don't have to stay longer. If that new one will want to tag along, we can have longer shifts of rest, than with just two of us. And won't hurt to find out what's boiling around here, right?"
She did slow down, so they wouldn't reach the gates before he replied, giving this conversation some time. Woman seemed to have long forgotten about the fact he had to shoot her before, only twitching corner of her lips indicating pain in the arm.
Of course, he didn't say anything. Took his time to think, then sighed and gave her a nod as a response. Joan nodded back, then picked up the pace and soon they were in the reach of the gates, where, sadly for the Terror, the guards were still being difficult about helping the wounded.
Joan growled something through her teeth, looking up at Dan, then kneeling down to check Terror's pulse.
Alive, thank something.
" What the fuck, seriously, you stupid asses, how difficult it is to help at least a fucking wounded man?"
Glaring up at them with near to hateful eyes, she lifted herself back up.
" Joan Remy, I'm with those tw-... Three douchebags, I bet they already told you how long we gonna stay, so lets make it fucking quick. Berlin ist eine Stadt, verdammt dazu, ewig zu werden, niemals zu sein. Shit, nearly broke my tongue there. Open up, pretty please, with cherry on top?"
The most sweetest smile, that was so misplaced on her sharply cut face.

(( Co-post with Chloe.

The more aggressive fellow immediately aimed the nozzle of the gun right at the forehead of the french.
"Maul halten!" he shouted harshly, switching off the safety of his gun.
The companion immediately yelled "Sei ruhig!" at the other person, to which he spat brutishly and lowered the weapon.
Both of the guards' attention turned to Johan all of the sudden, though, in obvious disbelief.
"Who, or what are you? Take off your mask so that we know that you are human, or you will be shot at the spot!"


Joan blinked once, moving cigarette from one corner of her lips to another, and remained still until she wasn't in the aim anymore. At least she knew when to shut up and stop waving her hands around.
" Mkay. You are rude, immoral assholes. We follow your said rules, you not only leave a wounded fella die, but also randomly point guns at people, because there's a needle stuck up your ass. At least could speak English, so we would understand you."
She spoke calmly, watching the two with tired green eyes and thinking which one of them should get a kick in the groin first, when she gets a chance. She didn't get her reponse, though, because they switched their attention to Johan. That's where Joan sighed loudly and spoke again.
" Listen, lad. You've got no clue, what this man got underneath there. I spent a fucking three months nursing the fucker, after the gas cylinder blew up in his face. It's a bloody miracle he's alive. You follow me here? Or should I speak slower? Okay. You don't wanna see what's under there, it's a mess. And neither does he feel okay with it. Let me put it simply, so even stupid moron can understand - if you'd have syphilis, you wouldn't show off your dick around with it, would ya? Well, that's also personal and uncomfortable. He can't even speak a lot, so you have to take my bloody word right here, he's normal human, and leave his privacy alone or deal with it through me. Yes?"
Joan sighed again, heavily, resting hands on her waist and overall having absolutely defenseless position. Reporters, they are quite good at telling lies.

The calmer of the two narrowed his eyes, glaring at the woman.
"This is our haus. Our rules apply here. Our safety come first. If you disagree with our rules - go to the hell then, we don't give a crap. Our rule is, that you show us that you are not infected with anything that can endanger any of us."
He lowered his weapon all together, pulling down his gas mask at last.
The other didn't, still staring menacingly at the Swede as though looks could kill.
"Remove the mask, show your face, or you will not be permitted. The rest of you are free to enter, but big guy - nono."
Despite the odd choice of words, the long, blond-haired fellow seemed dead serious.


Joan shuffled a little, standing between the gate and Johan. Of course, even though she was one tall woman, her attempt to be a barricade failed, but she still crossed arms on her chest and looked up to the sky.
" Mkay."
Glancing over her shoulder, she sighed and looked at her male companions, then at unconscious Terror. No time.
" Y'know what, fuck you. Senseless ass. Hope you burn in hell twenty times worse, than this one."
Turning around, she even leaned down to pick up the bag, that Johan left, before he went to look for her.
" Help him with tacoman, you, new one, and follow, I saw a good place, can take care of him myself."
Seems, like she was serious. No time to argue.

"I have one name" the Dane grunted, but followed regardless, keeping his thuggish appearance with the bandana pulled up.
Together, they went back away from the safety of the tower, and towards the cinema in which they came from.
The trip was calm and silent, apart from when they had just entered the lobby - in the near distance, they heard the roar of a truck, a large one. The deep, solitary humming of it instantly triggered their alarm bells, and they hid around the large double doors, anxiously waiting for the truck to pass, their ears peeled for any suspicious sounds.
The truck did pass, and they heard a distinct phrase sounding over and over again from a half-functioning set of speakers. It was a droning, Latin voice that sounded strangely deep and terrifyingly evil. It said something along the lines of “In tenebris pervenitur. In sanguine oramus. In lucem transcendit", which was repeated over and over again.


" Fuck my life. Heard that shit before. Wherever they are going..."
Joan sighed and looked at the two, then back at the unconscious one.
" Help me get him on the second floor and then go check out, what's the matter. I will take care of him, nothing can get up there without using the stairs, so I can shoot it off, if something."
Seems like, if there would be some fun, she wanted to stay out of it. Had enough fun already for one day.

There were five of them. A family? Doesn't matter...

He was covered in blood, his eyes were glowing red. Fire was being breathed out his mouth and nose.

"The Terror of Seville."

Slash! A man fell on the ground, he was no match. The man was still alive. His eyeless form was gasping for air as blood torrented out his neck. The child, a boy, about twelve. He was screaming.
A silent scream, but the Terror could hear it in his bones. The boy convulsed as a machete stabbed him in the chest. The Terror watched as the boy fell dead. His glowing red eyes illuminating the room with light. A noise from behind?

An old woman watched, he walked up to her. A walk that took an eternity. Machete in hand.

She said, "Tu..diablo.."
(You..devil..)
The Terror stayed quiet.
"Ya acabaste con este pueblo, que tu quiere?" She said, tears rolling down her face.
(You're finished with this town, what do you want?)
"I want.." He responded.
His tattoos started to glow a deep crimson.
The room shook, a flash of light, the end was finally here.

The Terror awoke. Sweating and breathing hard. His whole body hurt. From the corner of his eye he could see red. Red?

Joan, without waiting for any further conversations, just as she found a comfortable spot, started tending to Terror's wound - cleaned it again, stitched it up. Luckily the medical supplies they have collected for the past days allowed her to do at least that. New, clean bandages. She even had a small ampule of blood thinner, which she injected the man with, along with the painkillers. By the time she finished, Joan was visibly tired. It's been a long while, since they stopped for sleep.
She seemed asleep, when Johan spoke - sitting by the wall, Terror's head resting on her lap, her eyes half-closed. Tiredly, however, she looked up at him and sighed quietly.
" See... New one here didn't want to go, he tagged along with us, for some unknown to me reason. Leaving our mister-wounded-much to them? No, thanks. I might be a bitch, but I have some dignity left. Rather slow down and for sure take care of him myself, than give away to those morons."

Seemingly, Joan avoided answering his question. When he kept his head turned towards her even still, woman rubbed her face with one hand and sighed tiredly again.
" I've known you for less than two weeks - it's a lot of time nowadays. I'm not stupid, Johan."
For once, she called out his name right. Could she do that all this time before, or it's just a lucky shot there?
" I know you, not much, but enough. I've learned your every gesture, I can understand you without words. I don't know these fucks and in all honesty, I am bad with people. There's a reason you separate yourself from people with all this attire, not only of safety thoughts. I might know the reason, and I think you're smart enough to understand, that I could've figured out things. Yet, even then you didn't let me down, when there were plenty of opportunities. It's more than enough to chose you over them."
Only now she noticed signs of life coming from the Terror and looked down.

" Good morning, sunshine."
Was the first thing he heard, when blur of red, pale white, leathery brown and black finally focused into familiar appearance of the redhead from before. Even though the leg under his head was skinny and muscles were tense, it still was better, than a cold stone to rest on.
" Don't move much, I just finished the stitches."
They helped him? How strange.

Dan was sitting in the entrance, tensely listening after the sounds of the droning voice and the truck.
It did stop, thankfully, but he shortly heard a drumroll of gunfire, followed by a cascade of others, and a series of yells in the distance. Judging by the direction - had the strange figures attacked the tower?
It wasn't possible to verify, but Dan assumed so, before returning to the rest of the group, tiredly sitting flatly down on the dusty floor, back against the wall.
He too could feel the yearning hands of sleep trying to pull him into sweet oblivion, but alas he resisted, determined to at least appear to be of some worth to the rest.

Once the wounded man woke up, though, he sprang to his feet and crouched down right in front of Joan, prodding the Mexican curiously with the jab of a finger.
"Will he live?"
She nodded, a gesture which he repeated thoughtfully.
"I think we, eh, shud get 'bark to se tower. Dey can maybe use ar help. Re-, uh, reward us."
His English clearly wasn't top-notch, but he didn't seem to bother to clarify his odd accent. He got his message across, after all.
Before anyone could reply though, he sprang back to his feet and stretched all limps.
"Ma name is, uhh, Daniel. Dainish."
And with that, he went down to the ground floor, fishing his pistol out of the pocket together with a can of beer.

Joan seemed to tense up, when Daniel got close, and kept her eyes on him, wide awake. She twitched one corner of her lips, when he spoke up, but for a while remained silent, up to the point, when Terror got up.
" Wouldn't advice going outside. Just saying. All the shooting, you know. And don't prod the beast, he might snap your neck."
With a quiet sigh, redhead crossed her ankles, remaining sitting on the floor, after which she seemed to be a tiny bit more relaxed, than a moment before.
" Just because I'd let him know beforehand, if you decide to sneak up on him."
Another sigh, as she pulled herself up on her feet and got downstairs too, sliding off the edge carefully, walking up to Johan and remaining there, while she was searching her jacket for the cigarettes. Muttering something under her nose, woman leaned to her side and poked Johan's arm with elbow, nodding towards the outsides.
" Daniel is right. Maybe they need some help there. Now, I don't give a rat's arse about them being grateful, but I wouldn't mind being in reach to give one of them a kick in the balls. You're the boss, decide yourself. I'll follow. For real this time."
Sticking a cigarette in the corner of her lips, Joan even made an attempt to smile. Which didn't look too convincing.