<strong>Ricky Mulch: Deja Vu<br/>Outside the Blood Bar</strong><br/><br/>He saw the surviving spitters look up, turning their attention to the rooftop.  Seconds later, the goblets of slime soared above him.  He heard a yell and a thump.  "RED!" he called out reflexively, turning away from the spitters, considering running up the ladder...  No, Red and Lauren would have to handle themselves.<br/><br/>Ricky swung back around, lining up a shot at the two remaining spitters.  Just like he had been trained, he gripped the pistol with two hands, steadying his arms on the garbage barrel, and held his breath...<br/><br/><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">Shot #1: 8 - 1 - 3 - 1 = 3 ((Rolled 5, HIT!))<br/>Shot #2: 8 - 1 - 3 - 1 = 3 ((Rolled 6, HIT!))</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br/>The first bullet took the spitter to the left of the nose, shredding the soft flesh and puncturing the brain.  It fell to the ground, twitching.  The second spitter collapsed, a small hole in its right cheek.  At the same time, the bar door exploded outward; several people immediately rushed out, several of them firing their pistols.<br/><br/>Without warning, he felt a sharp burning pain draw etch itself into his shoulder.  Time seemed to slow.  He felt a heavy weight slam into his back, and the disturbing sensation of sharp teeth or claws sinking into his flesh.  Ricky tumbled forward, knocking over and landing on top of the garbage can.  The creature, whatever it was, flew over him and landed on the concrete between him and the Blood Bar's door.  Ricky caught a brief glimpse, a shadowy silhouette, a deep hateful growl, and then it was gone into the night.<br/><br/>A flashback flickered across his mind.  Walking into a house in Baghdad following a young boy.  He was laughing.  His rifle was slung at his side, forgotten at the moment.  Ricky knelt down, spotting what looked to be a shell casing on the floor.  Suddenly, a dog pounced at him.  It's jaw latched onto his left shoulder, biting through his BDU and tearing at his shoulder.  The injury had cracked the bone and partially severed a tendon.<br/><br/>This new wound wasn't as severe, but the memories associated with it were as painful and frightening as ever.  With some difficulty, Ricky righted himself, leaning heavily against the wall with his good shoulder.  He could feel his left shoulder bleeding, his flannel and shirt torn.  Pressing his right hand on the wound, Ricky looked back at the bar patrons.<br/><br/><em>"We're running out of ammunition.  Anyone got a plan for that?"</em><br/><br/>The bouncer looked at the young man.  He had to stay focused.  The Town Hall.  The bunker.  "Ya, I got a plan.  We get to the Town Hall and hole up.  All the ammo you could ever want."  Then, up at the roof.  "RED!  LAUREN!  Get down from there.  We are<em>leaving!</em>"<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Inventory and Character Status</div><div class="spoiler_body"><strong>Inventory:</strong><br/><span class="bbc_u">POCKETS</span><br/>1.) Handgun  (with belt-clip holster) (4/9 bullets)<br/>2.) 1 Extended Clip of Ammunition (13/13 rounds) (back pocket)<br/>3.) Pocket sized note pad (front pocket)<br/>4.) Black Pen (front pocket)<br/>5.) Deck of Cards (includes Jokers) (back pocket)<br/><br/><strong>Current HP/SP Status:</strong><br/>Body Points - 156/166<br/>Stamina Points - 145/160<br/>Status - Top Shape (128-160 SP)</div></div>