Briar laughed loudly. If they were trying to rile her up, it wasn't working. "Please, you skags! My 'blunder'. I decapitated that fuck. You want me to fuckin' torch every dude I gut so they don't get brought back to life from now on? You two chucklenuts think you can stand here an' insult me?" The redhead grinned jovially and motioned at Artorias, "You, Tin Can, I fuckin' saved yer worthless ass life. So don't talk about blunders when I hadda pluck<strong>YOU</strong>outta the deepest backwoods buttcrack of empty space. You wouldn't be fuckin' sittin' here if it weren't for me." Her gaze flicked to James, the amazonian woman waving a digit at him, "An'<strong>YOU</strong>, prettyboy, I remember MY company kickin' the ever loving shit outta YOUR company on Tranellore. You assclowns 'blundered' into the most obvious ambush I ever laid in my damn life. So both of ya, cram it."<br/><br/>She maintained that grin and the mirth remained in her eyes. Briar could dish it out as well as she could take it, in all respects. A few snide remarks from prospective members wouldn't damage her ego any. It would probably take a nuclear warhead to damage her ego, actually. They should probably start building bunkers out of it. Egonium. Bloodthorn drew her attention to the company's newest piece of tail and wagged a teasing digit at her, "HMI doesn't harm civvies. Property destruction is all part of the job an', fuck, that's what those places have insurance or whatever for, but killin' innocents ain't somethin' we do. We don't have many rules here, but that's a big one. Make sure ya protect 'em. Otherwise, we're no better than Hammer & Flail, or those pissants from Iron Wolf."<br/><br/>At that point a little holographic figure popped up in the center of the room. It was semi-transparent and blue, female, dressed like some kind of biker chick. She had messy black hair and darker blue circles around her eyes and darker blue lines running from the corners of her mouth. She even had a little cigarette dangling from her lips, trailing fake electronic smoke. It must've been designed by Briar, but the redhead didn't look like the type to be any kind of programmer. Briar seemed more likely to get a computer to work by punching it repeatedly than attempting any fancy lines of code. Either way, the AI spoke.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: times new roman;">"We're over the drop zone,"</span>it said.<br/><br/>Briar grinned, "Great! Let's get this show on the road, then!" Glancing at the recruits again, she set her hands on her hips and grinned, "We're gonna circle back around in an hour. Either you've got the job done, or I go down there an' collect your remains to mail home. One way or the other, I'm gonna drink a lotta beer to celebrate. Good luck, skags!" Grinning and snapping off a mock salute, she watched them go.<br/><br/>Go?<br/><br/>Yes. The floor dropped out, rather unceremoniously, from under all three of them (four, technically, if one counts the live animal). The drop was ten feet at best, so none of them should get hurt. It was rather astounding how the ship had managed to get over the drop zone. It hadn't even felt like they were moving! Damn smooth ride. 'Smooth' was not, however, an apt descriptor for how things were going outside.<br/><br/><div align="center">(http://i1264.photobucket.com/albums/jj499/MzHyde/School_zpsf8c94201.jpg)</div><br/>Morning Wood was one of the three remaining private schools on Earth. Well, there were<strong>TWO</strong>now. One was a boy's school and the other was a highly exclusive barber college. Schools in general were going rather extinct, only to be found in the massive metropolises on the east coast of the US, the center of Japan, and in Canada. But nobody really counts Canada. Morning Wood was currently infested with zombies and part of it was on fire, so attendance was at an all time low. The crew had been dropped just inside the gates and before them lay a sprawling, fenced-in institution. A wide pathway led up to the main buildings, which looked like they belonged to some kind of church or monastery, not a school. The buildings were constructed of sturdy stone with wood accents and roofing. Lush green grass spread out to the left and right, the occasional tree dotting the landscape. A real treat on this smog-choked rathole of a planet. They were probably fake. That would explain why they weren't brown and on fire.<br/><br/>Currently, there are about a dozen KA infected school girls in short skirts running at the entire group of mercenaries, screaming bloody murder and gnashing their teeth. They all look rather the same, thanks to the rapid decay of their flesh and the matching uniforms. People tend to lose their individuality once they contract KA and go kill crazy gaga for the taste of long pig. A single bite could mean the virus is contracted and once that happens, you're a cannibal corpse within the hour. Contact with any bodily fluids in open areas can lead to it, too, so the mercs would have to watch the splatter and maybe invest in some goggles. A final note; the uniforms the girls are wearing have ANGEL systems built in. Most clothes do and these are no exception. With packs of screaming teenagers running at the newbies, trying to shoot them down before getting chomped on would be a risky proposition. It would be like trying to repel tweens at a Justin Bieber concert (Comeback Tour; Belieber In Miracles, 2045).<br/><br/><strong>Everyone</strong><br/>So, there's like a dozen zombies running at you all. That's neat. Should do something about that. After, though, here's a puzzler; where do you go? The small building at the end of the main path is boarded and nailed up haphazardly. That's probably where any survivors are being held. The building to your right looks tempting. The doors are blown open. The path of destruction obviously begins here. Maybe this is the way Hardlight went? There's a little winding path in the distance, leading to the wing that is currently on fire. This, in turn, leads to a clock tower. Clock towers<strong>ALWAYS</strong>scream 'Evil Lair'. Maybe there's something up there. Pretty fuckin' dangerous, though. You should probably talk it out as a group, because going your separate ways would be a death sentence.