Escape From Rockford IC
<h1 id="title">Elliquiy Role Playing Forums</h1>
		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Extreme =&gt; Extreme Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: Urbanzorro on 13-07-2010, 22:25:15</h2>
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				Title: <strong>Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Urbanzorro</strong> on <strong>13-07-2010, 22:25:15</strong>
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				It was another calm early morning in Rockford. The sun was rising slowly, and the city was beginning to stir once more. Birds could be heard singing to one another, the soft BEEP BEEP BEEP of city garbage trucks as they made their rounds. The barking of dogs waking up only to find some raccoon trying to steal from the garbage. All these things could be heard around the city. To the casual eye all in all it was another normal day..... but what couldn't be seen by the average citizen was what set this day apart from all others that had come before it. High above the city, so high that it could neither be heard nor seen an E-3 AWACS &nbsp;(http://stevejanke.com/archives/awacs.jpg) circled the skies above.<br><br><br><hr><br><div class="floatleft">(http://girlsspot.net/wp-content/uploads/2008/12/french-first-female-anchor.jpg)</div><br><br><br><br>Those Rockford residents who were awake early enough were greeted by a the smiling face of Haley Alls for their morning news cast as normal. Looking right at the camera she smiled warmly as she received the signal that they were on the air. "Good morning Rockford I'm Haley Alls and this is you're morning news. First off we have a breaking news report....we here at RCN have just been informed that there has been a communications satellite failure. And as a result several forms of communication such as the internet, out of town land line, and cell phone calls, as well as satellite and out of town television will suffer from loss of connectivity. We have been assured by the mayor's office that this is at the very worst a temporary problem. And all citizens are asked to please be patient." <br><br>The rest of the news cast went on as normal Haley talked about the opening of the zoo's newest exhibit glorifying Monty the oldest elephant in Rockford, she congratulated The Royal Hotel on it's achieving a 5 star rating, and encouraged residents to visit the city park this weekend for the founder's day celebration. What she didn't mention was the story that she'd personally been working on for the past two days. The steady increase in the number of missing animals, as well as several of the city's homeless being reported as missing from their normal places. She'd taken her findings to John, her boss, and wanted him to get a few more people to work on it...but it hadn't worked out. He'd shut the story down without even telling her why...which was very different for him. As she reached the end of the news cast Haley pushed the thoughts from her mind and focused on being 'sunny' "That's all we have for you this morning Rockford...So from all of us here at RCN have a nice day and we'll see you later!" <br><br><br><br><br><br><br><hr><br>It took 3 minutes for the Police to be alerted of what was going on in the western residential area from there it took them another 7 minutes to assemble a riot squad to quell the 'riots' that were occurring. The Chief of Police was adamant that they contain and control the situation before it got out of hand and hopefully before the press got wind of it. But this was not to be, some man or woman out for a buck, or just some lucky reporter called RCN about what was going on. And anyone in Rockford watching their T.V. was greeted to the following special report courtesy of Rockford City News. <br><br>"We interrupt your regularly scheduled programing to bring you this RCN exclusive report!" the news station's narrator announced as the RCN logo appeared on screen only to be followed by the face of Haley Alls "Hello Rockford" she said doing her best to maintain an air of calmness about herself, even though she was a bit worried....something in her gut told her that this was a lot worse than it appeared. "RCN has just received scattered reports of a small riot taking place in our city's western residential area. Our sources indicate that there are a large number of men and women currently participating in the riot. A RPD spokes person has told us that a task force is already on scene to quell the disturbance. Further more the RPD asks citizens to please avoid the western residential area. Rest assured that RCN will be on the scene to bring you the breaking information as it comes......" She paused mid sentence as she got word from the news room "....I'm receiving word that one of our reporters is currently on scene...the police have intercepted the crowd and are now using tear gas in attempt to break it up......the tear gas is apparently having no effect and the rioters are now attacking the officers, I'm getting reports of.....cannibalism within the riot...it seems several of the rioters have taken to biting the officers that they are assaulting....the police are now in full retreat.. " It took Haley all of 30 seconds to regain her composure, her smile had disappeared but she still appeared at least somewhat outwardly calm.&nbsp; "I'd like to re-iterate that both the mayor's office and the chief of police are asking all residents to please remain calm." <br><br><br><br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Michael Corvus</strong> on <strong>14-07-2010, 05:59:58</strong>
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				<strong>Michael Winters</strong><br><br><strong>RIIIIIIIING! RIIIIIIIIIING! RIIIIIIIIING…</strong> The silk sheets spilled over Michael’s athletic form as he rolled over in his large, king-size bed with a petulent groan, swinging his arm over his body to reach for the phone blaring insistently at him, his strong hand fumbling sleepily for the handset. Finally knocking the receiver from it’s base, Michael curled his thick fingers around the handset and brought it to his ear as he squinted with burning eyes at the clock. 6:00 am. <br><br><strong>”Hello?’</strong> he answered groggily. <br><br><strong>”Happy Birthday, Michael. I hope you like the sheets I sent you?”</strong> a sweet, sultry, feminine voice answered on the other end of the phone. Michael’s rich brown eyes fluttered closed again and his lips curved into a big smile as he fell back into his bed cradling the phone to his ear. <br><br><strong>”Yes, these sheets are amazing Amber, thank you. You always give the best gifts. And how is my baby sister this morning?”</strong> His sister chuckled on the other end and then sighed sadly. <br><br><strong>”I miss my big brother. I’m thinking I might fly out for a visit soon, would you like that? I’m in Malibu on a photo shoot but I should be back home in a couple of weeks. I could see you then, if that’s okay with you? I don’t want to impose.”</strong> Michael threw the sheet off of his body and sat up on the side of the bed, rubbing his face and feeling the stubbled growth. <br><br><strong>”You could never impose on me, Amber. Anytime you want to come visit, my house and everything in it is yours, you hear me? You still have the key to my place, don’t you?”</strong> he asked as he stood up and shuffled to the master bath, as naked as you please. <br><br><strong>”Of course I do, Michael. Well, I'm glad to hear you say that. I’m looking forward to spending some quality time with my big brother."</strong> she sighed as she realized the time knowing Michael would need to start getting ready for work soon. <br><br><strong>"Well, I suppose I should let you get ready for work. You can’t keep all those impressionable, young, pretty high school girls waiting too long, right? That’d just be cruel.”</strong> Amber laughed playfully. <br><br><strong>”Yeah, whatever. You be careful and take careful of yourself Sis. I’ll see you in a few weeks.”</strong><br><br><strong>”Okay, I’ll see you then. Bye Michael. Love ya!”</strong><br><br><strong>”Love you too, Amber. Bye”</strong> <br><br><em>Click</em>! Michael press the END button on the phone and tossed the handset on the bed from the bathroom door. He switched on the small bathroom radio and then turned the shower on to hot. An hour and a half later, Michael was dressed and headed out the door on his way to work. He was running a little behind schedule and hadn't bothered with the t.v. this morning, entirely missing the news piece concerning the riots on the west side of town.<br><br>He locked up and shoved the last bite of toast with strawberry jam into his mouth as he walked to his truck. He tossed his thermos full of coffee along with his leather briefcase containing all of his graded papers today's lesson plans, and play diagrams for the team onto the passenger side of the bench seat and climbed in. Keying the ignition, the truck (http://i133.photobucket.com/albums/q61/mrgerty/Equipment/3138984_1_full.jpg) roared to life and Michael sped away on his way to Rockford High School. The radio blasted the latest country music hit and Michael sang along.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rhoswen</strong> on <strong>14-07-2010, 08:45:50</strong>
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				<span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">Sitting down to breakfast, to poached eggs on toast and a glass of orange juice, had forgotten to pick up any sort of breakfast meat on her way home yesterday. Accepting the lacking meal, creased the paper along the fold to continue reading the headliner on page 5 section “B”. The small kitchen t.v. had been blaring in the background as she glanced at it from time to time. Haley Alls told the news making the idea of stopping by the zoo appealing as an after work activity. </span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">It was half past six when Lasair got her dishes washed and started gathering her belongings. She slowly gathered files for her three lectures today. Not in hurry to get to work stalled a little when Haley Alls began in with another breaking news story. Something was happening down on the westside just after&nbsp; explaining to all to stay away from the area. Lasair was glued now to the television. What was happening on the Westside she pondered.The blond haired beauty did not intend to visit the Westside by any terms, but this all was starting to sound like some activist group who wanted to be heard. But when it was said that these rioters were biting the police officials there to break up the riot she cringed to think people reverted to such animal acts to be heard. Heading for the door stopped to here the few words that were coming out Haley’s mouth. It took a few seconds to understand that she was actually saying the rioters were actually biting the police officials on the scene. Her mouth opened but nothing came out. She couldn't believe what she heard and dismissed it as some activist group gone wrong. </span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">Everything went off in the kitchen as she headed for the side door that led into the garage. In minutes, she was using the auto garage door remote to raise the heavy doors and started backing out. Nicely her shiny black BMW Z4 greeted the world with its mistress behind its wheel. She zoomed off down the road toward Rockford's City College.&nbsp; </span>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>14-07-2010, 09:48:00</strong>
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				Sarah wiped some sweat away from her brow as she flung her hand around, without mind to what she hit, working to silence her alarm clock and its insistant wailing. It was actually playing a radio station, but the shitty modern pop 'music' pouring out of it sounded more like a blaring claxon then entertainment. "<strong>Who listens to that shit...</strong>" The music suddenly stopped and her blanket was lifted off her, the bright morning light immediately blinding her and she let out a surprised, tired groan.<br><br>"<em>Oh, sorry...</em>" Sarah heard her sister Chloe's voice as the blanket was lowered back onto her head.<br><br>Sarah groaned and turned over, sliding one leg off her bed and grunting aloud as she pushed herself up. She swung the blanket off herself and stood, looking at her sister and grinning. "<strong>Morning already?</strong>" Sarah chuckled, her sister sighing in response and stepping aside as Sarah stretched her arms out and quickly left her bedside, heading towards the bathroom and flipping on the light. Back in her room, Chloe opened up the curtains and sunlight poured into the room, filling it and the bathroom in a basked orange glow, dawn was just pushing up over the horizon. That meant it was still nice and early, she'd set the alarm early. Or someone else had...<br><br>With her bathroom light on, Sarah blinked herself awake and stared at the mirror, her eyes were a little red and her hair was all messed up, frizzy and just wacky in general. She turned around and twisted on the shower, straight to hot and pulled off her grey top, tossing it nonchalantly aside. Chloe appeared and stopped abruptly, turning around outside the door and clearing her throat. Sarah paused as she was taking off her underwear, glancing at the door and sighing. "<strong>Yes?</strong>"<br><br>"<em>Uhh, well... she's in a hurry...</em>" Chloe again cleared her breath uncomfortably, looking inside the bathroom as Sarah tossed her underwear aside. "<em>And when she's in a hurry...</em>"<br><br>"<strong>The tired, smelly older sister doesn't care. If her boyfriend can't find a better time to smooch, he'd better find himself a decent schedule.</strong>" Sarah replied as she stepped into the shower and closed the door, sighing aloud as the steamy water seemed to erased all passes of her exhaustion of working a 16 hour day ending only hours ago, and the grime and smokey dust smell that had settled onto her. <br><br>"<em>You know about Thomas? She's only been going out with him for like, a day.</em>" Chloe replied, stepping into the bathroom and flipping on the mirror light, grabbing a small comb and running it through her dark hair, she was humming a quiet tune as she did so.<br><br>"<strong>Thomas? Thomas Kopetski? I thought she was dating Ryan Davidson...</strong>" Sarah replied.<br><br>"<em>Naw, she broke up with him weeks ago, she's been dating Kyle Troymer for the last while. Just broke up with him a few days ago.</em>" Chloe replied, chuckling.<br><br>"<strong>Thomas Kopetski... ha. As in, Leon Kopetski. I dated that idiot in high school, never met a more useless human being in my entire life. The guy was a total spaz, his dad owned 5 cars and has never so much as had to carry a grocery bag in his entire life, let alone do fuck all else.</strong>" Sarah barked in response, rolling her eyes and running a handful of shampoo through her hair. <br><br>"<em>Well, Thomas is the same.</em>" Chloe replied. "<em>So I'm told, I heard he actually had someone carry his backpack once, like 20 feet from the school to the car. He's rich though.</em>"<br><br>"<em>His hair is worth more than this house...</em>" Amata added in as she entered the bathroom and kissed Chloe on the side of the head, grabbing a second brush. <br><br>Sarah peeked her head out of the shower, flicking her dripping fingers at her blonde sister, whom jumped away in surprise. "<strong>Well in that case, young lady, you can go live in his hair. I'm sure its got a lower electricity bill, given the low activity in that region.</strong>" Everyone laughed at that, except Sarah whom turned off the shower and set off to dry down.<br><br>20 minutes later, she was sitting at the kitchen island as Amata finished making pancakes for her sister, Sarah was just finishing up her toast and an apple. She didn't want to eat much, based on the news she was watching, it was going to be a busy day. "<em>Didn't you go to school with her?</em>" Chloe asked, looking up periodically from a romance novel splayed out in front of her, nodding at the TV achor woman, Haley Alls.<br><br>Sarah nodded, but didn't respond, she was watching the images and video of the news. She threw a small piece of gum into her mouth and chewed it until it balled up, broken from its stick form and focused her attention on her sister, reading across from her. She was startled a little as her pager vibrated in her pocket, but paid it no attention. If it did it again, she was in a rush. Once was hardly a reason to get worked up, it was usually a cat up a tree or some old lady left her oven on and was burning down her 40 year old wooden house. Even if she went through the downtown like a terror on wheels, she'd never get there on time. Sarah looked up at the clock as Amata served up the pancakes and both hungrily began to eat. Then the news story came on about the riots and the disturbances, everyone in the room took notice as Sarah abruptly turned off the TV as the report started. Both her sisters looked at her, and she smiled. "<strong>You'd think people on the west side would be used to losing to us in the community football games by now.</strong>" Sarah laughed, her grin disappearing as neither of her sisters seemed appeased. "<strong>Don't worry about it you two, stuff like this is bound to happen with this economy. People are angry at the government, not us. Just... don't go out that way today, huh?</strong>" Both of her sisters nodded and Sarah smiled, looking down at the newspaper in front of her.<br><br>After 10 minutes and a final check up, Sarah led her sisters outside and approached the car door, stopping abruptly as Chloe stepped in front of her. Hearing the door closed, Sarah looked over her should at Amata, locking the front door and moving to join them at the car, swaying her arms from side to side with a little exact waggle in her walk. Sarah raised an eyebrow from behind her sunglasses and watched as she approached the driver side ahead of Sarah and Chloe, turning around and leaning against the door. "<strong>Oh I see... today is the day huh.</strong>" Sarah asked, putting her hands on her hips. Neither of her sisters replied, just stared. <br><br>Admiting defeat wasn't something Sarah did often, but there was usually no turning the opinions of her sisters when they both stood their ground. Solidifying her defeat, Sarah chucked the car keys to Chloe who giggled in joy, tossing the keys again to Amata who practically squealed as she opened the driver side door and slid in. Sarah snuck in the backseat and dropped her bag next to her, flipping up the sunglasses. "<strong>Now, make sure you-</strong>"<br><br>"<em>I got it!</em>" Amata yelled, putting the car in drive and bolting out of the driveway.<br><br>"<strong>Right...you've been driving a whole 2 years, silly me to doubt.</strong>" Sarah responded as she leaned back, laying her head against the headrest and sighing deeply, rolling down the window on her door and smiling as the chilly air rushed in to meet her. The radio was turned on, and a sickeningly similar song to what Sarah had woken up to started blaring on the radio.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>14-07-2010, 19:06:59</strong>
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				SU BAILEY<br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Su_Avatar.jpg)</div> Mom and Dad had both gone out to work by the time I'd got up, showered, dressed (http://www.superphotospace.com/images/kim_kardashian1559_49f58aa909347.jpg) and trotted over from my crib to the house. I found mom had left some breakfast for me and a note about picking up her poopy Paulo Nutini CD from Mrs' Vandren when I went round tonight to get my Xbox back from Jamie Vandren. Honestly, I didn't <em>need</em> my Xbox back and Jamie had clearly gotten to that stage where he thought that being my next-but-one neighbour and being on Xbox borrowing terms meant he had the right to run his gaze over me like he had two invisible and well trained slugs to guide about on my chest. Yeah. Jamie had crossed that fine line between friend to creepy pervy dude just like so many boys did. Most had no backbone to ask me out, they just <em>hung around</em> you know? <em>Looking</em>. Ugh. Spare me. Teenage boys are the most unstable species around. Some are fine, sure but some... sheesh. It makes me shiver. It makes me look more to older men as well, you know? People with some experience, who know what they want and how to go get it. People with drive and confidence, not spots and wankers wrist.<br><br>Boys. Jeez.<br><br>Breakfast was scrambled egg and pancakes and syrup. <strong>"Gawd, mom, I'm on a diet here! I can't eat this shit and wear my cheerleaders outfit! I'll look gross!"</strong> I spoke aloud to the empty house in exasperation. I was already pushing ten stone and some of my size 6 dresses were getting tight. It was depressing. Coach Zimmerman had said to me last week that he thought I was looking a bit tubby round the middle.<br><br>Tubby. He actually said tubby.<br><br>Honestly, a girl needs supportive criticism when she's got these sorts of pressures on her plate, not to be told in so many words that's she's <em>too freakin' fat!</em><br><br>I got a slice of cold toast from the rack and found some cottage cheese in the fridge and spreading the one on the other I munched the cold gooey mess as I grabbed my psychology texts from the table by the TV. Stuffing them in my bag and weakening as I went by ... <em>mom, it's your fault!</em> I dipped the spoon in the eggs and wolfed down two mouthfuls as I went by.<br><br><em>Awww... too much salt again, mom!</em><br><br>I bounced down the front steps, unlocked Steve and jumped in him, chucking my bag in the passenger seat.<br><br>Steve (http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/1968-Ford-Mustang-Fastback-GT390.jpg) is the love of my life. Named after McQueen, of course, I've taken two advanced driver courses over the winter and now I'm pretty darn good at donuts, handbrake- and J-turns and controlling slides and doing drifts. I'm not sure I'd want to throw Steve around quite like I threw the test car about on the skidpan but I reckon in a pinch I'd do it. I do all my best driving outside town and away from the city speed limits and the cops. Up in the mountains.<br><br>I turned the radio on as I headed down The Avenue and pulled left towards Good Street, Steve giving a reassuring throaty roar as I accelerated between parked cars. He has that sound of a real car you know? None of the crap almost-silent sounds from post-pollution legislation for this baby. A child of the sixties, a real muscle car. At Meahe Street I hung a right over River Walk Bridge towards the firehouse. Before I got there though I took the left towards Ennnerdale sliding through the corner with a satisfying squeal of Goodyears over the drain covers and a throaty V8 Detroit roar. They just don't build cars like this any more.<br><br>At Ennerdale the lights were against me and I joined a queue of cars waiting at the intersection. The radio had interrupted the Morning Rock Hour to give some news report about rioting in Westside. Those bums again. Why don't they just get off their lazy asses and get a job for Pete's sake? I dialled the radio over to KWLM and picked up the Dave Trent show and the satisfying sound of Rush came out the speakers. [noembed]<em>Red Barchetta</em> (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=epr144KsKGI)[/noembed]. My kind of music. I turned the volume way up and bopped along in my seat, thumping out the drum line on the steering wheel. As the lights went green I roared across and up Darios Street ever-so slightly in excess of the speed limit.<br><br>I turned off Darios and into School Walk, parking Steve up with a satisfying scrunch of gravel behind the baseball pitch bleachers. Katie Maxwell was there and Anne Rockingham. I waved as I got out, grabbing my bag and going over.<br><br><strong>"Morning girls!"</strong> I called cheerfully.<br><br>Another school day, same as ever. Practice tonight though which was always fun, especially going out to eat afterwards. We might even find some guys who weren't total dorks.
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				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>15-07-2010, 00:10:28</strong>
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				Sarah leaned forward sharply as her sister hit the brakes and the car skidded to an abrupt hault. Amata and Chloe were out quick, Sarah was a little slow to get out and once out, made a mocking heaving noise as she bent over the spoiler on the back. Amata scowled and tucked the keys into her purse.. "<strong>I'm just kidding Am, you did great. I'm sure old Miss Harper hasn't seen something leave that quick since her sanity took off a couple of years ago.</strong>" Sarah hugged her sister, who chuckled at the thought of their next door neighbor. Sarah didn't mean any disrespect to their neighbor, she'd always been a helping hand even in her mid 80's but she'd been batshit insane for almost 2 years.<br><br>Chloe approached the driver side as Amata picked up her bag and left, swinging her hands from side to side with that same jump in her walk. Sarah watched for a second as Chloe hugged her. "<strong>What is she so happy about?</strong>" Sarah asked as Chloe shouldered her bag, shrugging her shoulders in response, waving goodbye and approaching the school.<br><br>Sarah could only stare and watch her sisters enter the school, smiling a little to herself on how much they didn't need her. It struck her, she felt useless in their lives, despite the fact they were all she had, she felt so distant sometimes. It bugged her, wondering how her mother had done it, knowing Sarah's every tear and what it meant, what caused it and how to help fix it. Sighing, Sarah turned to leave and was stopped as a man approached her, waving to someone and easily standing a foot or more above her. "<strong>Morning Dustin, work last night?</strong>" Sarah asked, leaning on her car as she could see Dustin's son entering the school. She met him at a department picnic a few weeks ago.<br><br>"<em>Yeap, worked rescue 3 with Rahm and FAST 1 for a conveniance store fire last night, Corey Dennis was burned pretty bad.</em>" <br><br>Sarah looked at him, then at the ground. "<strong>He gonna be okay?</strong>" She asked, crossing her arms with a slight frown on her face. <br><br>He nodded. "<em>Yeah, it was only a block to the hospital and, well, Corey is a tough bastard. But he's pretty mangled up, he was partnered with Kevin. I'd wager Kev feels worse than Corey about now.</em>"<br><br>Sarah bit her lip and nodded slowly. "<strong>Yeah... Corey ... I, wow. I can't believe it... out of everyone, I figured he'd be the last...</strong>"<br><br>"<em>Kerosene. Guy who owned the place, said he spilt kerosene on the floor... whole 2nd floor was a disaster, second we opened the doors the gasses trapped in the middle boards between the first and second floors, pulled the ceiling right out and created a backdraft, knocked Corey back a good 10 feet, ripped the door clean off its hinges. Fire was pent up for a few hours before we got there with a hose truck. Funny thing, there was still a fire spoofing the front entry area, no signs of a flash or anything.</em>" Dustin sighed. "<em>Anyway, I'm sleeping at the station, I'll walk you over. I doubt I get a day off.</em>"<br><br>She smiled and pointed to the small diner across the street. "<strong>Get a coffee and some treats for the boys, and thanks, Dustin.</strong>"<br><br>After crossing the street and buying a few boxes of sweets and a few cans of high quality coffee, Sarah followed Dustin the few blocks to the fire station. She'd known Corey for almost 20 years, most of her life, and it honestly shocked her he would get caught by a flash fire. He had twice the service time of almost everyone else in the entire state, only topped by the chief here, and the state fire inspector. Normally she'd go to see him, but knew Corey well enough he'd get pissed at her for being there instead of at work. Still, she'd been doing this job for a few years now, and even the old guys said the same thing every time they went out; you don't know squat about a fire until you've seen it. And even then, you've never seen it all. She'd seen backdrafts rip the roof of a 3 story building, a crack the size of an acorn spark an entire apartment complex to just burst into flames, flashovers that come from literally nowhere and go straight over her head like it had a mission.<br><br>The walk to the station was uneventful, Sarah was filled in by Dustin on the inner workings of the Rockford High School daily life, and how little she was supposed to actually know. Sarah was occupied by her thoughts, but found the time to laugh at Dustin's jokes. As they reached the department and saw a ladder truck speeding out, Sarah sighed and figured today would be one of those days. A dozen building fires, and she'd get to sit on her ass all day. Upon actually getting inside, saying her hello and goodbyes to comers and goers, respectively, Sarah was informed she was to be in turnout bottom gear, and today was a busy one. She slipped into her turnout trousers and the boots, strapping them on and leaving the heavy coat where it was. She checked the duty board, and sighed. Of a dozen open spots, her name filled each one. 8 trucks, 4 of them ladder, 3 hose and 1 special purpose for everything else, bombs, chemicals, biologicals, nuclear... burning butter on a stove. Everything under the sun that may or may not decide to explode was a preparation made by the SP truck, or the 'toy truck', as everyone called it. Rescue on every truck, except one, where she was FAST 1. Sarah couldn't hide the exhaustion already creeping in her mind, but the joyful jeers and cheers as the remaining firefighters in the station took notice of her purchase had to make her smile.<br><br>The cook, also the toy truck driver, whipped up some coffee and the sweets were taken to quickly. Sarah sat down next to Kevin Ryman, her FAST partner and a guy she'd known since birth. He was slouched over on the couch, a half eaten club sandwhich sitting on his lap and his eyes blankly attached to the floor in no particular region. Sarah ninja'd a piece of his sandwhich and ate it whole, Kevin glancing at her and chuckling. Sarah coughed and sat forward, gagging on whatever the hell was in that sandwhich, and taking a quick drink of water from a half empty bottle sitting on the table. "<strong>What in the name of hell, is in that piece of shit?</strong>" Sarah coughed.<br><br>"<em>That would be, a veggie sushi delux sandwhich. I made it myself.</em>" Kevin replied with no intent of hiding his amusement.<br><br>Sarah looked at him sharpy, eyes wide and mouth agape. "<strong>You tricked me! You knew I couldn't resist.... oooh, thats dirty Kevin. Thats low. I'll remember this.</strong>" Sarah threw her hands in the air and leaned back.<br><br>A claxon alarm sounded in the station, and both on the couch sat up. The small talk from every corner of the break room went silent as the truck numbers were called for a car fire, Sarah sighed and leaned back into her seat, taking a small drink from her steaming cup of coffee, likely to be her first of a long day.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>rick957</strong> on <strong>15-07-2010, 05:57:07</strong>
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				<strong>CAL SNYDER</strong><br><br>Cal cocked an eyebrow and seized the metal object lying at his side, before starting in on his melodramatic address.&nbsp; <br><br><strong><em>"Alright you primitive screwheads, listen up!&nbsp; See this?&nbsp; This is my boomstick!&nbsp; It's a twelve-gauge double-barreled Remington, S-Mart's top-of-the-line!&nbsp; You can find this in the sporting goods department.&nbsp; That's right, this sweet baby was made in Grand Rapids, Michigan -- retails for about $109.95.&nbsp; It's got a walnut stock, cobalt-blue steel and a hair trigger.&nbsp; That's right.&nbsp; Shop Smart.&nbsp; Shop S-mart!&nbsp; Ya got that?!&nbsp; Now I swear, the next one of you primates even touches me ... Yaaa!&nbsp; BLAM!&nbsp; BLAM!"</em></strong><br><br>Lacking the necessary bullets, the forked sausage rammed repeatedly into the zombie scrambled eggs and sent them reeling back across Cal's plate.&nbsp; Fortunately his Aunt Ginny had the television up too loud in the living room for her to overhear his breakfast drama, or she would surely have reproached him for playing with his food.&nbsp; Cal's eyes were still bleary from the poor sleep he'd gotten after staying up late the previous night, rewatching for the thousandth time one of his favorite horror flicks (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Army_of_Darkness) in its latest super-extra-limited-ultra-blu-HD-collectors-only DVD edition.&nbsp; He'd always had a knack for reciting bits of dialog from movies more or less verbatim, and it was more interesting than listening to the local news-bimbo describe the sleepy doings in old Rockford town.<br><br>Except by the time he'd finished half his pancakes and sated his appetite, a few unusual phrases emanating from the other room had gotten his attention away from his scene reenactment.&nbsp; He poured himself a glass of skim milk and wandered out of the kitchen, assuming he must have heard the report wrong, but that wasn't likely considering how loud his elderly Aunt usually kept the volume.<br><br><strong>"Did she say 'cannibalism'?!?"</strong> he asked, entering the living room of the modest home he occupied with his grandparents, who were also his guardians.&nbsp; Ginny -- actually his grandmother, though he'd known her since childhood as "Aunt" Ginny -- was standing in the middle of the room, her mouth agape and covered with one hand in a gesture of astonishment -- never a promising sign.&nbsp; Cal joined her in front of their 32-inch set and marvelled at one of the freakiest news reports he'd ever seen.&nbsp; Haley Alls' loss of composure and the images of white tear-gas clouds and fleeing bystanders immediately took Cal back to the last time he'd witnessed such shocking live footage on television.&nbsp; He got the same prickles at the base of his neck, too -- the same ones he'd had nearly a decade ago, huddled in front of the TV with his grandparents, who did their best to make the horrors of 9-11 comprehensible to his ten-year-old mind.&nbsp; <br><br>(Some might have questioned the propriety of exposing a youngster to those nightmare scenes on TV, but Cal's "Uncle" John and Aunt Ginny had sensed his mature sensibilities early on, so they never shielded him from the facts of the world around him, instead encouraging his inquisitiveness and letting him develop at his own advanced pace.&nbsp; Those might have been deeply traumatic sights for a lesser mind, but Cal had more than his share of sophistication and sensitivity to draw upon; he'd been one of those kids who more or less raised themselves, although his doting guardians could always be counted upon to truthfully answer his questions and keep a watchful eye.) <br><br>With no sources of information beyond the local TV and radio stations -- all presently preoccupied at the site of the developing riot -- Ginny and Cal called his Uncle John to see if anything unusual was happening on the eastern side of town.&nbsp; Bright and early that morning, before the others were even awake, John had driven northeast from their neighborhood to the 24-hour pharmacy where he worked part-time as a cashier.&nbsp; Now a couple hours into his shift, he reported that the buses seemed to be running like normal and everything was quiet -- unusually so, in fact, because so many locals were currently indoors, anywhere where they could observe the developments on TV.&nbsp; The CVS Pharmacy was located not far from the Royal Hotel, a little north and west of Cal's destination that day.<br><br>Neither John nor Cal saw any reason for the Rockford City College sophomore to skip his morning Geometry lecture, although it took Cal an extra 15 minutes to convince Ginny to let him go, once she realized he couldn't be reached on his cell phone in case of an emergency.&nbsp; Since their drug-addicted daughter had given her infant son to them to raise, John and Ginny had sacrificed a lot to make ends meet on John's government pension, but they'd never felt a moment's regret, so deep was their affection for their only grandchild.&nbsp; They'd given him more than his share of freedom growing up, but that was only because he'd always stayed out of trouble anyway, risking nothing more contentious than frittering away his allowance on comic books or the occasional dinner date.&nbsp; After their daughter's recklessness as a teen, Cal's safety was a primary concern for his guardians, but after promising to check in with her by phone in the afternoon, Cal was released just in time to make his bus.<br><br>He had to jog to the bus stop but made it with a couple minutes to spare, or perhaps the bus was a little late.&nbsp; Either way, he had time to notice en route how eerily quiet the sidewalks were, just as Uncle John had reported.&nbsp; What the hell was going on?&nbsp; Was this the dreaded sequel to the first big terrorist attack, the larger catastrophe that everyone had predicted back then?&nbsp; Such notions were still nagging at him as he boarded the Good Street line and surveyed the unusually-empty bus.&nbsp; Melba Henderson, the familiar driver, greeted him with an amiable smile that put him a little more at ease, but as he took his seat, those prickles started crawling down his back again.<br><br><br><hr><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">OOC:&nbsp; In case it wasn't obvious, that wasn't my speech at the intro.&nbsp; I only wish I could write like that.</span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Michael Corvus</strong> on <strong>15-07-2010, 10:17:25</strong>
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				<strong>Michael Winters</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i133.photobucket.com/albums/q61/mrgerty/Characters/MichaelWinters-1.jpg)</div>The wind whipped through Michael’s dark hair as he tore down Jack Street in his 1995 Ford F-150 with the windows rolled down. Michael pressed the number 1 preset on his high definition stereo just in time to catch Mike Nelson finish up his morning weather report. <br><br><em>…hot out there today with the high reaching 91. I’m Mike Nelson and that’s your morning weather. Now back to the Good Morning Guys with Brian &amp; Tod on Colorado’s Best Country Music, K99!”</em> They went straight into the next song with Brian announcing the artist and title while the song’s opening instrumental bars played out, <em>”Thanks Mike. It's 16 minutes 'til 8 o'clock and a BEAUTIFUL Monday morning. Stay cool out there gang! Now, here's Jason Aldean with his latest hit title [noembed]Crazy Town (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OcMLCK8Sw5I)[/noembed] off of his best selling platinum album, <span class="bbc_u">'Wide Open</span>! Keep your radio dialed in right here on K99! Colorado’s Best Country Music!"</em><br><br>Michael bobbed his head to the beat as he sang along in perfect unison and with the perfect accent, braking to a stop at the Fission Street traffic light. He waited for the light to turn green, still singing loudly along with Jason Aldean as he glanced over to the car that was stopped beside him. He flashed a smile and a wink at the pretty lady dressed in business attire on her way to work. She smiled back and watched him over the rim of her dark sunglasses as he sang, seemingly to her. Michael waited for a break in the traffic and merged right onto Fission Street, chuckling as the woman honked her horn after him, still stuck at the light. It wasn’t long before he came to Fox Street, but the light was green, allowing him to easily make another right hand turn, then quickly merging left into the turning lane. He flipped the blinker on and waited for a break in the oncoming traffic before taking the turn onto School Walkway. <br><br>He pulled into his usual parking space in front of the field house where the football players dressed for practice after school. Michael preferred parking here to the faculty parking lot because it afforded him the opportunity to walk a bit longer and mingle with the students. As the next song started playing on the radio, it was interrupted with some breaking news. Something about a riot on the west side of town. Michael wanted to listen but needed to hurry so he could unlock his classroom and prep today’s lesson before his students arrived. Grabbing his briefcase and thermos, Michael slipped from the truck’s bench seat and closed the door. He checked the driver side mirror, running a hand through his thick, dark hair, smoothing the wind-whipped mess into shape. <br><br>The sleeves of his long sleeved, thin, white button-down shirt were cuffed up to his elbows, the bottom tucked loosely into a pair of tight, faded jeans. A brown leather belt threaded the belt loops, ending with a slightly large gunmetal gray buckle blazoned with a Silvery <em>M</em> script. An imprint of his thick wallet was clearly visible on his right back pocket. His comfortably worn, old brown boots crunched the finely crushed gravel underfoot as he walked to the school building.<br><br>Hearing that pleasantly familiar beastial roar of the 1968 Mustang Fastback GT with the 390 and 4 in the floor, Michael turned his head to watch as Susan Bailey pulled into the lot at the opposite end. He paused for a moment to watch as she got out, walking towards the main building with her friends. He smiled and shook his head as he watched her walk for a few moments, muttering to softly, <strong>”God DAMN! That girl is just all *KINDS* of fine.”</strong> <em>"Say what, coach?"</em> Trevor Locke had been walking past as Michael commented concerning Susan. He quickly looked to his watched and covered, <strong>"I .. uh.. I said 'Damn, I have all *KINDS* of time.' You, however, do not. Ain't your class at the other end of the building? You'd better hurry it Trevor."</strong> Trevor picked up the pace and began to jog ahead. <em>"Yes sir!"</em> <br><br>Michael let out a soft, amused chuckle and shook his head again, looking down at his boots as he continued on to his classroom. Unfortunately for Michael, Susan wasn’t in any of his classes. He only saw her in passing between periods or at cheerleading practice while he was on the field with the team. He cleverly disguised his efforts whenever he allowed himself to sneak at peek at her during practice, but in all honesty none of the boys on the team would’ve noticed anyway because they were all too busy constantly gawking at her The coaching staff had to constantly reign them in and get their heads back into the practice. <br><br>That reminded him of his plans for later this evening. Since football season was over, the practices consisted mostly of calisthenics and position drills, followed by an hour in the weight room. He had made plans to take Courtney Byrd out on a date this evening. He was going to take her to <em>Stampede</em>, a rowdy little bar that featured a live country band and dancing. Courtney was a former student of his, just twenty years old and with a smoking hot body. She was a student at Rockford City College studying to become a nurse. <strong>”I should call her and make sure she’s still on for tonight…”</strong> he said to himself as he pulled out his cell phone. He pushed the button to speed dial her phone but quickly got a recording saying that all circuits were busy and to please try the call again later. <strong>”Hmm… odd.”</strong> He tried the call again, with the same results. Shoving the phone into his front pants pocket he shrugged it off and decided he’d try the call again on his lunch break.<br><br>Entering the main building from one of the side entrances, Michael nodded, smiled and waved to all the people who greeted him. Most of the greetings were of the <em>“Good morning, Mr. Winters.”</em> variety sprinkled in with several <em>”Hey Coach”</em>’s and hand few of <em>“Good morning Michael”</em>’s. Mrs Neuman, the Algebra I &amp; II teacher had recently grown suspicious of Michael and she eyed him with a distrusting, watchful gaze from the doorway of her class down the hall. Michael simply smiled and gave her a little wave of his hand as he stopped at his class and unlocked the door. <strong>"Good morning, Mrs. Neuman."</strong> A few students had already gathered near the door and waited for him to unlock the door. He glanced at his watch after opening the door and ushering the students in. He was just barely on time and Mrs. Neuman narrowed her eyes in defeat as she disappeared inside her class room.<br><br>As he sat at his desk and prepared for this morning’s roll call, he overheard some of the students talking about the riots he had briefly heard mentioned on the radio this morning. Just then, the 8:00 bell rang and Michael got up to close the door to his classroom as he began calling roll. <strong>"Okay, everyone please take your seats. Billy Anders?"</strong>...<br><br><strong><em>EDIT:</em></strong> I edited some jumbled up wording that I forgot to correct while reworking my rough draft. The bit edited is near the top, the dialogue involving the radio DJ.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Urbanzorro</strong> on <strong>16-07-2010, 01:59:39</strong>
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				As with most things of a critical nature, the events on the west side had started off slowly but they were steadily picking up speed, the threat they represented was growing....and spreading. What the police chief, and by extension the mayor had originally seen as no more than an annoyance and possible embarrassment if handled poorly was quickly turning into a genuine crisis. The initial task force that had been dispatched to break up the riot had failed completely. <br><br>As the chief&nbsp; listened to the panicked reports of those officers who were in the process of retreating from the mob the man could hardly believe what he was hearing..... What kind of a mob was able to stand up to tear gas and rubber bullets without even slowing down?!? And cannibalism....there was no way that was right. Either way he had several officers down. Closing his eyes and sighing deeply he reached across his desk and grabbed his office phone, quickly dialing the extension for the SWAT offices he waited the few seconds that it took for the phone to be answered by Rodriguez, his current SWAT captain. "This is Lorenzo" he said "I want you to prep all your teams, you're moving in to stop the riots over on west side before they get any more out of hand....start off with non-lethal weapons, but if you come under attack use any means necessary." 15 minutes later two SWAT vans and one riot tank (http://alt.coxnewsweb.com/cnishared/tools/shared/mediahub/09/98/64/slideshow_764989_cobbtank.1011-da_2.jpg) left the police station and sped off towards the corner of Ennerdale and Union Street. The mob had turned in the direction of the south east and was now headed down Ennerdale in the general direction of the central residential district. . <br><br><br><br><hr> <br><br>As Haley Alls' report on the riots continued, it did not fall on entirely deaf ears. Rockford High School's Principal, Alex Carlson (http://www.gazette.net/images/2009_0513/dursou051309_rgbb.jpg) was watching the report closely. Paying attention, his face a tense crease of worry lines. He could feel his ulcer acting up...He didn't need this kind of stress for God's sake! The day wasn't even half over and already it was looking like he'd have to break from the normal routine of things. Not that he thought there was any real danger, but what he thought didn't matter.....what mattered was that he follow state guidelines for dealing with 'crisis situations.' And one of those guidelines stated that when there was a riot in place public schools were to prepare for possible evacuation procedures. Forget that it was over reaction at it's stupidest, and forget that it meant the loss of a whole day's worth of preparation for the state level exams.....Alex groaned a bit as his ulcer pained him even more. It was no good getting himself worked up like this. <br><br>Pushing the aggravation from his mind he pressed the button on his phone that allowed him to talk with his secretary. "Ms. Cortez, please get in touch with the bus barn and tell them to get all the buses ready for a possible evacuation of the school." he then let go of the button not waiting for her response. Pressing the button beside it he patched himself into the schools p.a. system "All teachers, this is Principal Carlson would you all be so kind as to pick up your classroom telephones, I have an urgent announcement for the faculty." <br><br>Letting go of that button he waited a bit to give each teacher time to grab their phone. He watched as the 'connected' lights winked on one by one. Once they were all on he pressed the third button on his machine that patched him into the school's faculty phone line. They'd installed it to allow private communication between the faculty without the students overhearing. And it was sure paying off now. "Teachers" he said "As I'm sure most of you may know by now, we have a bit of a situation on the east side of town. And in compliance with the state's guidelines for possible emergency situations I'm taking the steps necessary for us to be prepared to evacuate the school should we need to. So I ask that all of you please remain calm, keep your students calm, and move everyone into the auditorium. Where we will play a movie to keep them occupied until the situation blows over. That is all"<br><br><hr><br>The news of the riots and the police's attempts to quell them overshadowed most other events happening that day. With all cameras and eyes on the 'front line.' As a result most citizens didn't know of the fire that had started up in the wake of the riot. As the police were battling against the rioters an old apartment building at the corner of Ennerdale and Ema street had caught fire. And was going up fast. The mob was moving down Lincoln street which branched to the south east off Ennerdale in the direction of Abe's bar and the middle class residential area there. The alarm in the fire station went off as soon as word about the fire was heard. The dispatcher's voice could be heard over the speaker announcing which units were dispatched to put out the fire, Sarah's truck was among them.&nbsp; <br><br><hr><br>Far on the other side of town from the riots life at Rockford College was going at least somewhat normally, classes were still being held and the riots were little more than an interesting news story to most people there. Something that they could watch more about on the evening news, and most definitely not an imminent threat. Walking though one of the buildingsDr. Kadensky (http://o.aolcdn.com/gd-media/galleries/704/Intro-402.jpg) was busy looking over some notes she'd taken. Her latest round of tests had&nbsp; proven very interesting, one of the rats had shown a high level of improvement when injected with the compound she was attempting to synthesize. It was currently showing signs that it wasn't very long for this world but she had a large supply of rats and her research was advancing much faster than she'd expected!&nbsp; She was completely lost in her own thoughts not even bothering to look where she was walking her research findings having pushed all other thoughts from her head. <br><br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rhoswen</strong> on <strong>16-07-2010, 06:59:56</strong>
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				Professor Rowen, Lasair<br>&nbsp;<br>The news continued with its updates about the west side riots throughout the morning as she rode along the quite streets on the east side toward the College. Such things rarely made it to this side of town and so it was like listening to a movie. Lasair was only mildly concerned about the situation across town. In her world, the day was a normal one, the birds sang and the sky was clear. Driving up through the entranceway of the Rockford City College proved just that, as she slid into her parking spot marked in her name with bright yellow paint. Students were out along the grounds chattering and listening in on the breaking news updates. Opening her car door stepped out unconcerned to hear the reports herself, knowing the radio will be on in the labs and in the conference rooms. The last known report she heard coming in was that the riots had seemed to be getting out of control and already were heading southeast, before she turned the car off; again it appeared of little concern to her. <br>&nbsp;<br>“Hey Professor Rowen, did ya hear what’s been going on up on the west side? Now the southeast is in a fit.” A student called after her as if he knew her. Turning she looked at this student who was but a face in a sea of over a hundred students she lectured too. To her he was a nobody, who if wasn’t working in one of her labs knew him not. She knows him like so many others, only as a four-digit number corresponding to the last four a social security number. Sighing heavily she had to admit to her self that the students do appear a tad too consumed with the riot. She was sure others who lived over in the west side and now southeast were not going to be in class today. Other students that may have come in to school earlier leaving home before things got broad cast about the riots were now listening to what fate has befallen there homes and quickly turned around to head back home by now. Lasair decided not to blow the students off today with a hand wave and a head nod. It was a day full of surprises and dread to some, so this was going to be his lucky day, a rare day she would take the time to respond to him. <br>&nbsp;<br>“Yes I heard it earlier this morning…and coming into work on the car radio; I’ll be sure to let all my students know if this becomes a situation to concern over. Meanwhile I do hope all of you are prepared for today’s three-hour lecture on chapters 12 through 17. This day continues and so must we.” She turned to continue up the stone steps and disappeared into the building, but not before pausing in the doorway to hear the groans and curses coming from her students. With a smile of satisfaction upon her lips, continued down the hall heading for her lecture room to set up for her first class in 15 minutes. Thinking now on the events hoped the riots were not going to affect them too much. But there is always that rare act of God that seems to save that one student who is ill prepared for her classes. <br>&nbsp;<br>Flicking a toggle switch sent down a large white screen, of which, is used for projecting lecture notes upon so students can follow along. She unzipped her soft brief case and pulled the notes she will give for both classes today setting them before her to glance over. Sitting on a tall stool behind the large raised podium waited for the students to start filing in as she removed a thermas to pour a cup of coffee. She never drank it at home but it served to help her during her lectures. Like clockwork, Lasair unbuttoned the next top button down of her pale pink blouse. She always felt tight in her blouses when she sat down and decided to do this to aid in her comfort. It is certain this act of comfort is why the students come each class giving her the best attendance in the department. <br>&nbsp;<br>Her cleavage was no doubt the talk of the campus. Reaching for her green lab coat across the lower desk near the podium, slipped into the long sleeved coat, and waited as the clock read 10 minutes to 9 am. Checking her wristwatch was contented to know she was coordinated with the classroom clock. Walking over to the lecture hall’s double doors, stationed her self there and waited to close and lock them at precisely 9:30 am. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>rick957</strong> on <strong>16-07-2010, 08:43:22</strong>
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				<strong>CAL SNYDER</strong><br><em><strong>Rockford City College, McCarty Hall, 3rd floor</strong></em><br><br>Okay, so it wasn't exactly dignified, but Cal had fifteen minutes or so to kill, and if Tara Jenkins was going to show up in a skirt that short with an ass that nice, she ought to be prepared for some hard-core ogling.&nbsp; Cal had a bad habit of obsessing over specific hot women whom he'd never actually met but saw on a regular basis, such as Tara Jenkins, who also usually showed up early for whatever class she took down the hall from Cal's Geometry class.&nbsp; There were about a dozen other early birds milling about in the hallway on the third floor of McCarty Hall, yawning and chitchatting until the bell rang to end the previous period and they could then get inside their classrooms and wait for class to start.&nbsp; He dug a loose-leaf binder out of his backpack so he could pretend to be studying while his eyes feasted on her luscious round buttocks.&nbsp; <em>'Oh god I bet there's a thong under there -- gotta be, with that sheer fabric and no panty lines ... Oh jeezis ...'</em><br><br>The worst part of Cal's invisibility curse was the way it limited his dating options.&nbsp; Cal had decided that he had an invisibility problem starting way back at Rockford High, where he'd spent four years getting ignored by almost everyone, including all of the school's most desirable women.&nbsp; His sense of humor and average looks earned him a handful of dates with the B- and C-list ladies in his small, rotating circle of friends, whose only shared quality was their status as social outcasts.&nbsp; He'd even had a girlfriend for two months or so in his senior year.&nbsp; But for the most part, the women he wanted were always just beyond his reach; his tongue turned to mush and his forehead got sweaty as soon as they came within ten feet of him.&nbsp; He wondered if he was destined to always long from a distance for women like Tara, whose name he recalled from high school, though she hadn't been <em>this</em> hot back then -- nor as fond of revealing clothing, from what he could recall; he wondered if one of those depended upon the other.&nbsp; Regardless, she probably never even learned his full name or gave him a second thought through all their years of going to the same schools.&nbsp; She probably just looked right through him, he figured, like everyone else did ....<br><br>When the bell finally rang and he turned suddenly towards his classroom, after one last, precious eyeful of Tara's sweet behind, Cal received a bit of counter-evidence to his cynical, self-loathing "invisibility" theory:&nbsp; a very pretty Asian woman he didn't recognize physically crashed right into him.&nbsp; She'd been coming down the hall, barrelling through in long strides as if she were in a hurry, but all her attention was completely focused on studying the sheaf of loose papers she was carrying.&nbsp; When she collided with Cal, her sheaf and his binder both fell from their hands, and pages went everywhere.&nbsp; Worse still, the hallway simultaneously became completely filled with students departing from their just-finished classes; the pair had to wade through a sea of bodies for the next few minutes, slowing retrieving the haphazardly scattered notes.&nbsp; Once they had everything off the floor, there was barely time to sort and divide the pile before the starting bell for Cal's Geometry class sounded.<br><br>He apologized to her profusely while flipping through the pages and felt somewhat put-off by the fact that she said almost nothing back, instead frantically digging through her own stack of sheets, as if her life depended on getting all her notes back.&nbsp; As soon as he thought he'd probably given her back everything of hers from his stack, he dashed off and left her in the hallway, still sorting through the mess -- she probably still had some of his stuff in her pile, but he was in too much of a hurry to point that out, and it was just some outdated class notes anyway.&nbsp; <br><br>Ten minutes into the class period, Dr. Kadensky had finished reordering her pages and verified that nearly a dozen pages were still missing, including part of her preliminary research summary.&nbsp; Naturally, she waited at that very spot for the next 40 minutes, prepared to accost the stupid student after class and get her missing notes from him, but luck was against her:&nbsp; there were three widely-spaced exits to the lecture hall, and Cal left using a different one from where he'd entered.&nbsp; She anxiously checked every face in the horde of roving students around her until the next class period began, leaving her alone in the hallway, short 11 pages containing full details of her research.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>16-07-2010, 10:17:47</strong>
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				Sarah jerked up from her sitting position as another alarm went off, squinting at the wall across from her, the entire span of her attention was focused on the truck call. Several others were already running towards the firepole while others were just getting out of the small, college style single bunk rooms lining either side of the hallway leading to the bathrooms and showers. Sarah finally heard her truck number and response number called, and sat up immediately, her partner was much slower to and wolfed down the rest of his sandwhich in a hurry. <br><br>Sarah quickly rushed towards the pole, latching her arms on and then throwing her feet onto the pole, sliding down the 20 feet in under 2 seconds and hitting the ground with a thud. By now, some trucks were already started up and one was leaving. Sarah sprinted to her locker, grabbing her jacket, mask and helmet and running quickly back to her assigned truck, hoping in the back as Kevin jumped in the other side. As she was putting on her jacket, the truck lurched to a quick start and peeled out of the fire station doors, out into the large parking area and onto the street. Traffic passing by stopped as the sirens were turned on. The loud, wailing sirens were mixed up with a high pitched, rapid squeal. Sarah put on her helmet, grabbing one of the rear seated oxygen tanks tucked in behind her seat and yanking it over the seatback, throwing it on like a backpack, then her PASS device and attaching the oxygen hose to her mask breathing system. She put her helmet on, leaving the mask draped over her shoulder as the truck hit a bump.<br><br>From her seat, she could see the high school and temporarily worried about her sisters, as the truck turned onto Ennerdale, her mind shifted to the task at hand. She leaned down a little, and could see some smoke in the distance. The emergency radio was clogged with constant reports from the police and other units around the city, things were going to hell in a hand basket, Sarah was thinking about taking her sisters out of town for a few days, possibly leaving tonight. Or at least, getting them out of the city, she probably wouldn't take a day off now anyways, she was needed here. <br><br>The drive to the actual apartment was quick, the sirens clearing the way for blocks as the truck blasted through red lights and intersections, motorists getting out of the way of the speeding truck, no doubt they could see the fire as well. Upon arriving, Sarah noticed they were the first ones there, besides a ladder truck. They were in a rescue vehicle, however, stocked to the brim with tools and equipment for doing everything job short of hauling water or with a tall ladder. She noticed the building quickly, smoke pouring from some windows and a few of the middle level windows were shooting out small bursts of flame. A squad car from the RPD was there too, and both officers were armed with shotguns. Sarah was surprised, that was the first time she'd ever seen that.<br><br>The truck skidded to a hault a good hundred feet from the building and on the opposite side of the street. They were not a priority vehicle, the ambulance that had just arrived was, and it was a fire department ambulance as well. Sarah grabbed a large axe from the back of her truck, Kevin grabbing a halligan tool. She nodded to him, leading him towards a group of three firefighters standing around a parked SUV, one of them wearing a red helmet, the guy in charge. He turned around, and Sarah didn't immediately recognize him, though he only looked at her for a second. He would have recognized her from the yellow helmet and black shield on her helmet, indicating her as rescue. Before she even reached him, he turned around and waved for them to follow him, walking away from the SUV and past a fence blocking the view of the apartment.<br><br>"<em>21 people live in that building, 12 are accounted for and outside. According to the owner-</em>" the Lieutenant pointed to a man leaning against a blue Honda Accord parked across the street. "<em>he knows of only 3 people for certain in the building. A 62 year old woman on the 3rd floor, and a single mother and her 4 year old son on the 5th. The fire is on the 4th floor, no one lives there, its a maintenance level with a few storage rooms, already got one team moving up to the second floor. Good luck, FAST 1 is 2 minutes out.</em>"<br><br>Sarah looked at Kevin who was already putting on his mask. "<strong>You wanna go in without FAST?</strong>" She asked, not even waiting for his predictable answer. FAST, Firefighter Assist and Search Team, were the people who came to find she and Kevin if they got in trouble. Putting on her mask, then putting her helmet back on over it, she did a quick check of her oxygen tank and then her PASS device, pressing the red button in its center until the satisfying, ear pinching wailing alarm it sounded out. She nodded and pointed towards the house. "<strong>Lets go straight up to the 6th and work our way down.</strong>" She yelled to Kevin, who gave her a thumbs up.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Michael Corvus</strong> on <strong>16-07-2010, 13:10:42</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Michael Winters</strong><br><br>The roll call complete, Michael returned to his desk as he counted the number of absentees. He always paced the front of the classroom, never one to actually sit at his desk unless he was grading papers. Nine students were absent this morning. That was much higher than the usual 2 to 3 absentees. He noticed that Jennifer and Erica were among those absent, which really struck him as odd since neither had missed his class the entire year. He figured the it had a lot to do with the riots he had heard about briefly on the radio before class this morning and soon found himself concerned for the safety of his absent students. Setting the roll call ledger down on his soft, brown leather &nbsp;briefcase (http://www.sovaleather.com/L442NUfrntbig.jpg), he leaned against the edge of his desk at the front of the class, crossing his arms over his chest. He cleared his throat, a serious expression on his face. <strong>”Alright ya’ll, tell me what you’ve heard about the riots across town.”</strong><br><br>&nbsp;<em>”You mean you haven’t heard, Mr. Winters? It’s crazy! People are going nuts and no one knows why! They keep saying it’s a riot but I ain’t buying it. People usually riot for a reason, but no one knows what the riot is about.”</em> Billy Anders was Michael’s star quarterback because he was a smart kid. You had to be smart to play quarterback and be any good at it. Always thinking ahead and reading the defense, making adjustments, calling audibles. He employed the same talents to that made him a success on the field to help him off the field as well. Billy had taken Michael’s class because Wendy Myers was taking was. Wendy raised her hand politely to comment further on Michael’s question. <strong>”Wendy?”</strong> Michael pointed to her and she lowered her hand. <em>”I heard on the tv this morning that the police were using tear gas and rubber bullets, but it wasn’t working.”</em> She looked scared as she offered the information, though it was obvious she was trying to appear unbothered by the news. <em>”Yeah, and they said the cops were running for their lives and that the rioters were … eating people! Like zombies or something”</em> Tony Adamopolous added, rather enthusiastically. <em>”Shut up, Tony! That’s stupid! There’s no such thing as zombies, you retard!”</em> Kevin Griggs yelled from across the room, obviously agitated. <strong>”Alright, that’s enough Kevin. There's no need to get upset. I’m sure Tony knows there’s…”</strong> Princple Carlson’s voice interrupted him over the intercom, requesting all teachers to please pick up the private classroom telephones for an urgent message. Michael finished his sentence to Kevin as he pushed off the desk and moved across the room near the door to pick up the handset. <strong>”… no such thing as zombies, right Tony?”</strong> Tony looked down at his text book and nodded sullenly. <em>"Yeah, whatever you say Mr. Winters"</em><br><br>Michael put the phone to his ear and listened silently. After the instructions were complete, he quietly returned the phone to it’s cradle and moved over to his briefcase, stuffing his things inside. <strong>”Okay listen up. I need everyone to get your things and please go to the auditorium. Please walk, don’t run. And please, try to act like adults.”</strong> He moved back to the door and opened it, stepping just outside his classroom and holding the door open while his students filed out. As Billy exited, Michael put a hand on his arm and smiled. <strong>”Make sure everyone goes to the auditorium and doesn’t disappear. If anyone slips off, just let me know, okay?”</strong> <em>”Sure thing, Coach.”</em> Checking the room to make sure it was vacant, Michael closed the door and locked it, then proceeded to the entrance to the auditorium. It was his job to help maintain order and keep the students from congregating near the doorway which would effectively clog the entrance, creating the possibility of people to get crushed or trampled. <br><br>Amata and Chloe Calhoun were among those tightly packed in the hallway and slowly filing towards the double doors of the auditorium. They were both smiling at Michael as they moved with the crowd, closer to Michael. Chloe was holding onto Amata’s arm to try to keep from being separated in the crowd. She put her mouth to Amata’s ear and said something inaudible over the roar and din of all the students flooding the halls. Chloe giggled and Amata’s smile curved into a leering smirk. As the two of them were herded past Michael towards the auditorium’s double doors Amata took the opportunity to press her open palm against the bulge pressing against the faded denim of Michael’s jeans. She squeezed him firmly, then let her hand trail across his thigh as they were pushed past him. Both girls proclaimed <em>”Good Morning Mr. Winters!”</em> as they were ushered past Michael and into the auditorium. <strong>"Good morning ladies."</strong> Michael said calmly, though his dark brown eyes were wide with surprise. Chloe giggled profusely, still holding onto Amata’s while Amata smiled proudly at her sister. Michael’s glanced around nervously to see if anyone had noticed. The halls were so crowded that no one could see below the shoulders of the person in front of them. He seemed to be in the clear and he glanced back at the two girls, shaking his head.<br><br><strong>”Keep it moving people! Everyone please move into the auditorium (http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3652/3402140381_793a098522.jpg) and find a seat.”</strong> He repeated this like a broken record as students spilled into the main hallway to the auditorium. He thought of Courtney and wondered if she were okay. He decided she should be out of harm’s way since she lived close to RCC, off of Good Street and was most likely sitting in her class right now.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>16-07-2010, 13:29:26</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				SU BAILEY<br><br><strong><em>"All teachers, this is Principal Carlson. Would you all be so kind as to pick up your classroom telephones, I have an urgent announcement for the faculty."</em></strong> At the announcement everyone in class looked up from their work, calculators and pens were forgotten, algebra became unimportant. This was interesting. This was important. <em>This was newsworthy.</em><br><br>I caught Anne's questioned look from the next desk over.<br><br><em>"What's going on?"</em> her mouth silently formed the question on everyone's lips. I shook my head and shrugged my shoulders, the only response each of us had.<br><br>The school PA system was used often, usually to announce class bells, call certain teachers or students to interviews (the latter being particularly ominous and often being restricted to a well known corps of limited names) or during events to pipe muzak. Rarely, if ever, had I heard it used to ask the faculty members to all pick up their phones, <em>in class</em>.<br><br>That meant <em>important</em>. That meant <em>very urgent</em>.<br><br>Vice-Principal Pinkerton cast a wary look around the class but said nothing. He picked up his phone as requested. The look on his face mirrored our own. He too knew nothing about this. This was no drill. Whatever was happening, was happening for real.<br><br>It was cool.<br><br>Thirty one faces fixed on Pinkerton for twenty seconds while presumably Principal Carlson imparted the information that had caused this unusual interruption.<br><br>"Yes, Principal. Yes. Yes, I understand."<br><br>He replaced the handset and stood up extending his arms forward palms down in a calming gesture.<br><br>"Alright ladies and gentlemen, quiet please and stay calm." The hubbub of whispered alarm subsided. "That was the Principal. It would seem that the rioting on the west side of the city has become worse and in compliance with state regulations the school may need to be evacuated. Right now that's not yet been decided but as a precaution we are halting all classes and I'd like all students to assemble at once in the main auditorium. I'll pass out further information to you when we get there."<br><br>The sound of voices rose, chairs scraped and I looked around in mild alarm. There was this thin skin of panic over things, it was really exciting! No more classes? Evacuating school? My thoughts went immediately to Steve. If the school used the bus fleet to get us out no way was I going to be herded around like a damn sheep. I'd break away and get across to the baseball pitch and go under my own steam.<br><br>"Alright, alright, please keep the noise down. Quiet please!" Pinkerton raised his voice. That in itself was enough to make the 'back of class' boys even rowdier. Someone threw a ball of paper.<br><br>"Please do not go to your lockers or delay to get personal items. Go straight to the auditorium. Your home room teachers will call registration there. That's all. AND DON'T RUN!" he yelled in closing as there was a general push for the exits.<br><br>Anne and Katie stuck with me and Katie's boyfriend Todd. Two other girls in our crowd, Mel Sheenan and Syeda Patel bumped into us in the corridor as they came out of their American history class next door. In an excited gaggle we moved with everyone else to the auditorium...<br><br>* * * * <br><br>An hour later the entire school it would seem was seated on the rows of hard uncomfortable plastic clip-row seats and the darkened auditorium watched <em>"The Hangover."</em> Whoever chose the film had done well, quite a few people were laughing and being distracted, however I noticed from time to time faculty members entering and leaving the auditorium, trying to remain hushed but failing. At one point I swear I saw Principal Carlson go by as one of the staff held the door open to check something outside. <em>And Carlson had a cop with him.</em><br><br>Alright! Now this was exciting!<br><br>At several points the unmistakable wail of police sirens went by outside.<br><br>I turned to Mel and Katie. Mel's guy Rick Tukefield was there too. Anne and Syeda were elsewhere with their class. <strong>"If something bad happens, I'm out of here. To my car. No way will I leave the Mustang behind and no way will I be herded like cattle on a bus and not be able to make my own decisions. You guys with me?"</strong> They all nodded.<br><br>"Todd's got his Subaru up by the field house," Katie said, texting him as she spoke, "He'll join us and we'll follow you."<br><br>"Hey. Listen to this!" Mel had her iPod Nano out. She had a Y-splitter for two sets of headphones and the four of us stuffed a single bud in one ear. Over the radio came updated accounts of the rioting. It sounded bad. Apparently there had been police casualties and the crowd were so well organised that tear gas wasn't subduing them. I didn't get that at all. Tear gas always sent those good-for-nothing bums home. Apparently some SWAT Teams had turned up and were now firing rubber bullets. An armoured car was using a water cannon. Then suddenly over the radio which was a live on-site report there was a lot of shouting and a panicking man's voice nearby yelling "Get off me! Get the fuck off me!" This was followed by the unmistakeable sound of a gun being fired. Not the soft <em>thopp, thopp</em> of rubber bullets but a real gun, a sharp cracking; one, two, three, four shots. Then a louder <em>boom</em> of what sounded like a shotgun. Then all hell broke loose and there was yelling and unknown noises. Presumably the radio crew getting the heck out of there.<br><br>The four of us stared open-mouthed at each other. Outside the faint <em>pok, pok, pok</em> of gunfire no longer needed a radio broadcast to reach our ears.<br><br>"Christ," said Rick, "This is bad."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>NosCorventius</strong> on <strong>18-07-2010, 17:47:06</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				It was the shaking of the apartment itself that woke Eddie up. Not the symphony of car alarms, or the gunfire or the paniced yells, he'd learned to tune those out long ago but the shaking and the crunchy whirring buzz that sounded like a killer robot had rolled into town that woke Eddie up. "whathefuckinhellis...." he mumbled as he groggily turned over, the overly bright light of a far too cheery sun peeking through dark and slightly dingy curtains. "godamnmotherfuckinworldwarthreestart?" He mumbled trying to cover his head with a pillow to block out the noise but it was still there that loud slow rumble... Eddie sat up pissed he'd worked til 3 ...gotten to bed as the sun was coming up round eight and he it was barely noon by the looks of the blurry red numbers on his clock and some asshole was driving a tank through his.....<em>Wait a TANK! What the Hell! </em> <br><br>Eddie bolted up right and through on some pants. Boots where next. He slid through the hall and into the living room grabbed the remote from the coffee table and jabbed the power button as he continued down the hall to the bathroom. The T.V. blared, its usually smiling blond bimbo looking a bit more plastic than usual as she dispensed the news. <br><br>"......As the riots and protests have become more violent swat has called in what appears to be a riot tank to deal with the crowds which instead of dispersing seem to have gotten bigger. Officials are considering the possibility that this may be some form of gang or terrorist action but remain confident that they can keep the situation under control."<br><br>&nbsp;" Huh, cops deserve every fucking bit of it you ask me." Eddie said to himself as he zipped up and flushed. "can't believe I got woke up by a fucking tank this morning...shits going to just kill my profits. So no fiends and johns today, guess I ought to go old school then. With all the other shit going down no way the cops will be out looking for a few boosted rides. Had my eye on that charger down the road awhile. Looks like todays my lucky day." <br><br>Eddie dried his hands and ran them through his long hair. <em>Up early anyways might as well get a move on</em> he thought as he moved back down the hall to grab one of his signature electric blue shirts and pull it over his head. Minutes later he was out the door gloves on, slim jim, knife, and phone in his coat pocket. "Time to go make some money."
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>rick957</strong> on <strong>19-07-2010, 00:54:55</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/b5/Cal_Snyder_Avatar.jpg)</div><strong>CAL SNYDER<br><em>Rockford City College, McCarty Hall, 3rd floor<br>Room 312, Math 221: Non-Euclidean Geometry</em></strong><br><br><strong>"No way, man, I'm telling you, the behavior is all wrong.&nbsp; Look, I didn't bother with anything more than weed, you know, but I had friends, especially back in high school, who tried everything out there:&nbsp; acid, coke, heroin ..."<br><br>"... if there is nonzero torsion, the first Bianchi identity becomes a differential identity of the torsion tensor.&nbsp; If on the other hand ..."<br><br>"I mean, the only thing I ever heard of that was anything like that was PCP, right? 'angel dust'?&nbsp; Not feeling pain, hallucinating -- sure, that could explain some of it, but the thing is, how do you get the whole crowd to react the same way?&nbsp; It doesn't work like that, no drug I've ever heard of.&nbsp; Even if all of them took the same bad shit, they might all freak out, but not in the same way.&nbsp; <br><br>"I'm telling you, all these guys were running around like -- like wild animals, wild dogs or something, drooling on themselves and coming up on the cops with their mouths hanging open, like they were looking to chomp into them.&nbsp; <br><br>"There was this one cop that had his nightstick out in front of him, and this guy comes up and clamps down on it with his mouth, right? and the cop's like, 'what the fuck?,' trying to shake this guy off of it, and the guy's got his teeth around it and won't let go.&nbsp; <br><br>"And the camera got in tight on this guy's face, and his eyes aren't even looking at him -- at the cop, I mean -- his eyes are just rolling around in his head, going in different directions and shit, like they weren't working right or something ..."<br><br>"... where the brackets denote the antisymmetric part on the indicated indices. This is equivalent to the previous version of ..."<br><br>"So this cop starts freaking out, right? I mean, who wouldn't?&nbsp; And this whole time the newscaster guy has just gone quiet, you know, 'cause what do you say about something like that?&nbsp; So all you can hear is the yelling from all the different cops, and sirens, and the gas bombs going off.&nbsp; <br><br>"So finally, the one cop's had enough, and he really gives the guy a push, just to get rid of him, you know? and not only does the guy not let go, like, he keeps biting on the thing ... and pretty soon his teeth start breaking on it, and you could hear the snaps and cracks, because the camera was right up on him -- I guess they had a mic on him, too ... so this cop's had enough, right? so he just starts slamming the stick into the guy, trying to shake him off, 'cause he's fucking freaking out too, you know? and the guy still won't let go!&nbsp; <br><br>"All of a sudden, this guy's teeth are popping out in all directions, and there's like, blood spraying out of his gums and getting on this cop, and you see some get on the fucking camera, like a few little drops, and the camera's shaking around, but they keep on filming ... and the cop's backing away, trying to pull back off the guy, but he's still clamped down on that stick, and he won't let go.&nbsp; Fucked up, man! I'm telling you, but that's not all ... <br><br>"So by now, the cop and the camera guy are both backing away from this fucking psycho dude, just trying to get away, and finally, the cop -- I mean, he's not going to just give up his stick, right? but this freak won't let go of it either, even with his fucking teeth all broken -- his front teeth are all popped out and gone now, and the others are sticking out at all different angles.&nbsp; You can see the roots of some of them where they're almost out, and some are just these black holes, leaking blood all down his face -- just fucking horrible, man.&nbsp; <br><br>"... sub-theta are the coordinate vector fields. The above expression can be written using Christoffel symbols, R-rho-sub ..."<br><br>"So finally, the cop has enough, and the last thing you see, before they go back to the news studio anchor girl -- this cop's been shaking the stick for a while, and that's doing no good, so finally he just -- <em>wham!</em>, smacks the stick forward, right into the guy's mouth!&nbsp; 'Cause he figures to push the guy off him, what else can he do, right?&nbsp; But the guy never comes off.&nbsp; He just takes the whole hit straight on, right into his fucking mouth.&nbsp; <br><br>"So, the last thing you see, the guy's fucking mouth just pops downward, like the jaw -- the guy's whole jaw just comes open, snaps open and down away from his face, and you see his fucking cheeks -- I swear, his fucking cheeks just split right open on both sides.&nbsp; <br><br>"You can see the skin all ripped, and there's the inside of his mouth all pink and red, and fucking blood is just everywhere.&nbsp; That's when they cut away, the cop was finally loose, but here's this guy on the screen, his fucking jaw is hanging loose off of his face, the whole bottom of his face is split wide open and just hanging there -- <em>and he's still coming.</em>&nbsp; <br><br>"The guy's eyes are rolled back in his head, and he's stumbling <em>forward</em>, not back!&nbsp; The guy was still coming forward at the cop and the camera, with the bottom half of his face broken, just hanging there.&nbsp; I couldn't believe it.&nbsp; I mean, can you fucking --"<br><br>"Alright!&nbsp; Jesus!&nbsp; ENOUGH!"<br></strong><br>Professor James Tobias stopped his busy scribbling on the huge chalkboard that stretched across the front of the lecture hall.&nbsp; He was in the middle of a complex series of equations when Cal decided he'd had enough of Cody Shreveport's nightmarish descriptions of footage from the ongoing westside riots.&nbsp; Cal was trying his best to keep up with the professor's verbal arguments and the endless scrawl of equations.&nbsp; Cody's mind, however -- not to mention his mouth -- was busy reviewing in lurid detail everything he'd just seen on the television before their class period began.&nbsp; <br><br>Between the bizarre footage Cal had witnessed himself that morning, the vague tension that seemed to hang over the entire campus, and the non-stop whispering among students throughout the lecture hall, Cal was struggling to make sense of that day's complicated lecture on the express curvature of Riemannian manifolds.&nbsp; To his credit, Dr. Tobias had chosen to ignore the unusually high level of chatter in the room, continuing patiently with his lecture right up to the moment when Cal had snapped.&nbsp; <br><br>Perhaps it was the sleep he'd lost watching DVDs the night before ... or perhaps it was the thought of his Aunt Ginny at home by herself, and the recent news that the rioting was spreading in the direction of Cal's residential neighborhood, with no signs of abating.&nbsp; One way or the other, Cody's monologue had set Cal off and elicited a far more volatile response than he intended, expressed in a voice loud enough to be heard by several rows of students in the front of the hall, as well as the long-suffering lecturer at the chalkboard.&nbsp; The accidental outburst had been the last straw for Tobias, who had put up with being ignored by his students for nearly forty minutes at that point, with precious few minutes left in the class period.&nbsp; <br><br>Still, he was taken aback when he turned around and recognized the source of the interruption as one of his brightest students, a young man whose name he couldn't recall, but who had distinguished himself with high marks on both exams so far that semester.&nbsp; Nonetheless, the teenager obviously lacked an appreciation of the decorum appropriate to the college setting.<br><br><strong>"Excuse me, young man, but would you like to take over at this point in the lecture?"&nbsp; </strong>Dr. Tobias addressed Cal loudly, appraising him with an icy glare.&nbsp; All the muttering in the room came to a total halt, and scores of faces all around the hall turned simultaneously to see whom the professor had singled out.<br><br><strong>"No sir," </strong>Cal responded, his voice lowered to a whisper.<br><br><strong>"I'm sorry, what was that?&nbsp; Speak up, young man!&nbsp; You seemed to have no problem speaking up just now.&nbsp; Will you be lecturing today, Mr. -- ?"<br><br>"Snyder, sir.&nbsp; Cal -- Cal Snyder."<br><br>"Mr. Snyder."&nbsp; </strong>The professor fairly spat out the words, and then sighed loudly.&nbsp; <strong>"I'm sure we've all got a lot on our minds today, with the strange news around town and so forth; but let's try and keep our minds on the task at hand, shall we, Mr. Cal Snyder?"<br><br>"Yes, sir.&nbsp; Of course, sir."<br><br>"Thank you, Mr. Snyder."</strong>&nbsp; The professor turned back to the chalkboard, and Cal shriveled down into a little mound in his chair.<br><br><br><br><hr><span style="font-size: 8pt;" class="bbc_size">(OOC:&nbsp; Pseudo-math lecture pilfered nearly verbatim from Wikipedia, natch.)</span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rhoswen</strong> on <strong>19-07-2010, 08:44:08</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font"><strong><em>Lasair Rowen</em></strong></span><br>&nbsp;<br><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">After closing the door to the classroom, Rowen walked down the side steps toward the front of the lecture hall. With her lab coat on looked none for wear over the news of the rioting across town. She secretly wanted to listen in on the news but classes were still in session. "<strong><em>OK, today we are going over unicellular microscopic organisms; which include bacteria, protists, fungi, archaea. The later of our lecture will cover microscopic plants, such as green algae, animals such as plankton, and the planarian. Turn to chapter 12 and we will be covering chapters 12-17; your exam is this Friday. A quiz to be given today, to help you gage where you are in your studies. There are15 multiple choice questions with five essays. Pay close attention to today's lecture."</em></strong> </span><br><br><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">Rowen walked over to the podium to bring down the house lights and grabbed her remote with the laser pointer. She walked over to the desk to lean on it while facing the screen. In seconds of pressing a button, brought up her presentation. Hearing once again the groans brought up by the material grinned. Grumblings emanated from the student body behind ignored such protest; it comes with the job. Continuing anyway, acted as if she never heard them. It was increasingly becoming difficult through the lecture to keep them settled, hearing them chatting in low whispers about the riots. </span><br><br><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">It was bad enough the half bowl lecture hall, which held up to 200 students, now was missing 80 students. Rowen ignored the numbers for now, knowing that it was significant. A green dot wiggled here and there on the screen pointing out what was important and what was testable. She had to give a quiz in the last hour and would if nothing interrupted her flow. But the constant murmurings in the dark was starting to distract from the lesson. Trying to ignore such interruption continued, believing if they preferred to talk then the quiz will let them know how ill prepared they are for the up and coming exam. </span><br><br><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">After 30 minutes, more into the lesson and the talking continued had to finally address this. "<strong><em>If you feel, your conversation is more important then today's lessons please do continue to have your private discussions. I still am paid and your tuition is appreciated. Consider in suggestion allowing those that would like to pass today's quiz, the chance to hear my lecture. With that said, I suggest you with frame from talking."</em></strong> Her back was to the class as she continued to circle a portion of the image, pointing out where the chemical reactions took place. The talking simmered down briefly after hearing the operative word quiz. But like in all classes you have that one who wished to be annoying. With in her assumption all had been settled, a student still decided that his concerns were far more important then the lesson and felt he had to be everyones spokes person. He asked his question undeterred by repercussions. </span><br><br><em><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font"><strong>"Professor Rowen I beg forgive the interruption of your class, but we have been talking about what plan the college has in place in case a emergency? Of course, all this is light of the rioting on the other side of town." </strong></span><br></em><br><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">Sighing inwardly hearing the question wanted to add, what did the other side of town have to do with right now at Rockford City College. Lasair took a moment to glance over at the podium's control council. There she looked to a call button, which flashed red when being summoned to the Directors office. Thus far, it had not flashed since classes began and she hoped seriously that it was not broken. Even so, someone will come and get her if her call button fails.</span><br><br><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font"><strong>"What is your name please?"</strong> She sounded irritated turning around to face her address-er. Lasair pressed her thumb upon the remote vab to raise the house lights; in order to see who spoke to her. To her surprise the same student that addressed her outside the building, now did so in class.</span><br><br><em><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font"><strong>"What is your name? I would like to know whom I am speaking to."</strong> </span><br><br></em><strong><em><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">"Cory professor, Cory Talan; I’m a junior." </span><br></em></strong><br><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font"><em><strong>"Mr. Talan, to answer you and your classmates concerns, the college has your safety in hand. I’ll be alerted if there is a need to dismiss classes for the remainder of this day. Since I have yet been alerted, please let us continue and get through this important lecture. I assure you all that no one will be left in the dark."</strong></em> She sounded so sure of her self, hoping the students were buying it. Lasair had to set the tone from here on out and appear unbothered by today’s events. She had to, or risk loosing control of her class. Many of her students hadn’t report to class and that alone was already cause for some concern. Glancing at the clock at the back of the class, had at least an hour and 12 minutes left to her class. </span><br><br><span style="font-family: verdana;" class="bbc_font">Not opening the floor up for further discussion on this topic, pressed the remote in her hand to lower the house lights and continued on from where she left off. </span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Urbanzorro</strong> on <strong>19-07-2010, 21:06:30</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Rodriguez had been captain of the RPD's SWAT unit for several months, and he was very proud of his position. Sure some of the other cops tended to call his officers 'glory boys' or other slightly derogatory nick names. But when the shit really hit the fan it was Rodriguez who the chief called. As he looked around himself and saw what remained of his men, the scared and panicked civilians running past their position, and the approaching horde of rioters Rodriguez found himself wishing he wasn't in charge. <br><br>He'd been sent to stop the riots, which had already cost the lives of more than a few officers, at any and all costs. Not wanting to be the man responsible for a blood bath Rodriguez had ordered the use of non-lethal weapons only. But they'd had no effect, the rioters had simply walked into the blasts from his three teams' bean bag shotguns, and rubber bullet armed sub-machine guns, the only thing that had even slowed them down was the riot tank's water cannon. Not wanting to see his men wind up like the last cops sent to stop these crazies Rodriguez had been forced to pull back and switch to live ammunition. They'd pulled back a block and a half, re-armed and reloaded. Then they advanced to point blank range. The riot had already reached the central residential area and Rodriguez hadn't been willing to wait for the riot to get close to them and allow more houses and families to suffer.....it had been a mistake.... the live fire hadn't broken up the crowd, it didn't even seem to phase them. He'd shouted to fall back on the double but 7 of his officers hadn't had time to step back before the first hands had grabbed them. Dragging them down and.....Rodriguez shook his head, he didn't need to think about that right now.<br><br><br>They'd been pushed back even further, the patter repeating itself again and again, he and his men would pull back and set up a new firing line, with the tank behind them, then they'd all open up on the crowd, which would keep moving forward getting closer and closer. Always walking...never running, why didn't they run? The rioters would keep moving until his officer's had to pull back again. And now it had come to this, they were at the north east end of the central residential area. With Fission Street just behind them, and the high school well within sight....The high school for fucks sake!! Rodriguez had gone to school there and now he and his men were the only thing stopping the riot from reaching it. To the best of his knowledge it hadn't been evacuated yet...what the hell was taking the principal so long to get those kids out of there?!?!?<br><br><br>Closing his eyes for a second Rodriguez let out a long slow breath then began to speak into his radio to the remainder of his men, "Alright....the high school is a little more than a block away from us and it still has all the kids in it" he didn't like the note of grim determination in his voice, but for the life of him he couldn't get rid of it. "So until they get those kids out, we aren't pulling back anymore, we're going to line up and we are going to hold those fuckers back! I don't care what it takes, body shot's aren't doing it so I'm authorizing head shots. We need to stop them, deploy defensive formation."<br><br><br>As soon as he finished his little speech Rodriguez moved to his position in the formation, standing a few steps away from the riot tank. He took aim, and seeing that everyone else was in their place began to squeeze on his trigger "Open fire!" he yelled out <br><br><hr><br><br>The apartment building was catching fire at a fast pace, the flames spreading across the 4th floor and beginning to reach out to the 5th and 3rd floors. The 6th floor showed no signs of a fire other then the thin layer of smoke that was filtering into it. The 6th floor comprised what would have been considered a pent house in an nicer building as it was the 6th floor was the owner's own living space and it was totally deserted. The 5th floor was not there were 5 people on the floor, all of them standing in the hallway, their doors open as they stumbled and shuffled around in the smoke. Seeming not to realize that the best thing to do would have been to hit the ground. As the two firefighters reached the the 5th floor hall way it's inhabitants seemed to know that they were there. Even though it would have been difficult for them to see anything in the smoke which was most likely irritating their eyes beyond belief. They slowly began to stumble towards the Sarah and Keven, the first person to reach them was a man (http://ui16.gamespot.com/1263/1wallpaper0216009_2.jpg), he didn't even seem to notice Sarah as he suddenly lunged at Keven. Wrapping his arms around the man before leaning forward and biting hard onto his shoulder! Behind him the others stumbled towards both firefighters, their arms raised and their movements the same as the man's had been....what ever was wrong with him was obviously wrong with them as well!<br><br>But above it all, above the moans of the approaching people, and the crack and snap of objects burning, and even the Keven's scream of pain one sound could be heard that sound was Rockford's emergency siren. (http://www.bbc.co.uk/schoolradio/history/worldwar2audioclipslibrary_clip02.shtml) And that could mean only one thing.....Rockford was in a state of citywide emergency.<br><br><hr><br>At Rockford College the air raid siren cut through the scholarly atmosphere with little effort. As it's blare finally died down every professor's office, and every occupied lecture hall received the same automated message. "A state of emergency has been declared....all classes are hereby released and canceled until further notice. Students are advised to follow public safety instructions, in addition, unless other wise stated by national, state, city, or college officials all local students are further advised to proceed home, those who live in the dormitories are asked to please proceed to their dorms and await further instruction from your residence advisers. Any acts of vandalism will not be tolerated and will be met with heavy punishment upon resumption of the academic year." <br><br>As the message ended another took it's place this one from the dean himself "This is the dean, I have just been informed by the city's emergency situation office that all citizens are advised to avoid the south western and south central areas of the city. The riots have grown far out of hand and spread quite a ways...I advise that all students remain on campus or return home should they live on the city's eastern side. Thank you very much."<br><br><br>A soft click could be heard as the speaker shut off once the dean had made his announcement. Less than a second later Lasair's students were standing up and moving to the exits, shoving and pushing practically running one another over in their urge to get away. They had all been rather jumpy and this was all it took for them to shift into 'danger' mode. <br><br><br>The class room Cal was in was no better, in fact if anything it was worse. The student's there hadn't even waited for the announcement to finish. They were already moving, rising and pushing for the doors. The professor was yelling at them to calm down, trying to establish some sort of order but it was an impossible task. <br><br><hr><br>On the streets Eddie found a city very different from the one he had known before going to bed, cars and stores lay abandoned much like they always did during a riot. But things were different....there weren't the large numbers of looters that usually accompanied such events, it seemed like everyone was too scared to even consider the possibility of looting. Of course there were a few looters on the streets and most of the places had their windows broken in. But even in the small run down drug stores and other places that marked the east most of the items behind the broken windows were left behind. It was as if who ever had broken in hadn't wanted anything that was held inside. <br><br>The city's emergency siren could be heard wailing away in the distance. <br><br>There were a few people on the street, some running from one direction to the next, looks of near panic on their faces. And others, others were simply standing there as if in shock. Starring off into space. Half a block away sat a black Corvette Stingray (http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs31/f/2008/235/f/d/black_Corvette_Stingray_427_by_Partywave.jpg), it was parked with it's front driver's side tire on the side walk as if who ever had been driving it had been more concerned with getting out quickly rather than parking safely. The driver's side door was closed and a small splash of blood was pressed on the door, a few steps away by the rear of the car lay a woman's body. The car itself was a little scratched but had no obvious signs of serious damage.<br><br><hr><br><br>Like his students, Principal Carlson had been forced to resort to watching the news to determine what was going on, he'd kept the tv in the teacher's lounge tuned to it as he tried to decide what would be the best course of action. When he'd heard about the SWAT teams being forced to fall back the first time he had decided enough was enough. He made the call and told the bus barn to send over all the buses as soon as possible. He'd rather be the man who over reacted than didn't react enough. He'd turned back to the tv. To find the face of Hally Alls in place of the on the scene footage that had been rolling. She was apologizing and explaining that they had lost contact with their reporter in the field and already had News Chopper 1 on route to keep the public updated on the situation. Carlson had then left the lounge and made the short walk to the auditorium, moving behind the seated students and approaching each teacher in turn. Telling them what was happening and that the buses were on the way. He told them that once the buses arrived they'd turn off the movie and get the students moving quickly and safely. His voice was strained and nervous but he was still in control of himself and knew he needed to set the example by appearing outwardly calm. <br><br>That had been 15 minutes ago....and the buses still hadn't arrived Carlson knew that even moving slowly they should have been here several minutes ago. He'd already tried calling the bus barn several times and had gotten no answer...as for the news they were still waiting on the chopper to get on scene. <br><br><br><hr><br>Unbeknownst to those inside Rockford High School, the reason for the buses' delay could be summed up in two words Jason Bastion, one of Rockford High's less than reputable students, he and his girlfriend had decided that it would be a better idea to hide out in his car, a modified Volkswagen Jetta (http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_QiblywYib5E/Sy0lE875WDI/AAAAAAAADUc/pR4EHN4MzD0/s400/VW-Fast-And-The-Furious-Jetta-400.jpg) that he kept in the parking lot. They had listened to the radio for several minutes as the story got worse and worse. When contacted had been lost with the reporter on the scene Jason had decided enough was enough. Starting up his car he'd floored the accelerator and raced out of the school's parking lot turning sharply and heading for the docks, his dad owned a boat there. He planned on hopping on board and getting himself and his girl to the north side of town via the river. It was a solid plan and had Jason been smarter, or a better driver it might have worked. But he was neither of these things; so he didn't think to slow down as he whizzed down the street in a car that was moving much faster than it had ever been designed to, and when the lead bus left the bus barn's garage entrance Jason did not have the skill to avoid it. His car slammed into the side of the bus at a reckless 97.32 miles per hour igniting the nitrous oxide canister's he kept in the trunk and turning both vehicles into blazing wrecks. The drivers of the other buses now found their vehicles trapped in the bus barn as it began to catch fire from the blazing wrecks half in and half out of it. With no other choice they abandoned their buses and ran out the side door...there would be no evacuation coming for Rockford High School.<br><br><hr><br>Anyone watching or listening to the news was no longer forced to wait for an update, though given the details they may have wished that they had. Hally Alls could be heard saying "News Chopper 1 has just arrived on scene where the Rockford City Police SWAT Teams are attempting to stop the riots, we go to them now for an update...." those watching tv would be greeted by a black screen for a second while those listening to radio would only hear static, this was followed by the image of the riots from above and the sound of a mans voice "this is Mike Smutts for RCN, we are currently above the forward elements of the riot in progress. The mob has moved east across Fission Street and is now heading straight for Rockford High School! There is currently no sign of the RPD's attempts to stop the rioters other than a single SWAT van which appears to have been stormed by the rioters. Looking down I can see several bodies dressed in RPD tactical gear. It appears that the city's attempts to stop the progress of this riot are in complete disarray. The mob is less than a block away from Fox Street now. And closing the distance....this reporter can only hope that Rockford High has already been evacuated"<br><br><hr> <br><br>As Carlson saw this his eyes grew wide, the had to move now! Where ever the buses were it was too late. He stormed out of the lounge and began to sprint towards the auditorium. He knew what had to be done. They'd get the students up and moving to the other side of the school, they'd move calmly and walk out the doors so that the school was between them and the riot, from there they could head for the river walk. They just had to keep everyone calm or his school would turn into a charnel house. As he made it to the auditorium he was just in time to see his quickly formulated plan fall apart before it could even be put into action. Somewhere in the student body a boy yelled out "They're coming here!! the mob is heading for the school!" at another end of the auditorium a young woman screamed "The cops a all dead! We need to get out of here!!" <br><br><br>Raising his arms up and yelling as loudly as he could Carlson tried to get the students' attention "Please be calm! Please we need everyone to be calm" but it was like trying to stop a train with a potato gun, as the city's emergency siren began to wail and the sounds of large numbers of fists banging on the front doors could be heard Carlson realized he had failed as a principal, and that his school would more than likely be the grave for a large number of it's students. <br><br><br><br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>20-07-2010, 15:10:43</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				SUSAN BAILEY<br><br>The phrase 'all hell broke loose' is a really overused phrase isn't it? People say it to describe a rush in the January sales, or people arguing over petrol crisis pump queues or things like that. Well... in Rockford High's auditorium that early afternoon, I'm telling you, Hell really did break loose.<br><br>I have never seen anything like it in my life, nor ever wish to again. It was chaos. Complete pandemonium and I was scared. Scared to death. I admit it. I was shaking. There was an immediate stampede for the doors, not an orderly exit like you get with huge crowds at rock concerts where everyone is trying to get out of a few small doors but they wait their turn, no. Not like that. There was no waiting your turn here. People <em>ran</em>, people jumped over seats, people jumped <em>on</em> people still in their seats. People fought, I saw boys punching and pulling each other, girls too - fighting. I saw people screaming and stumbling and in the rush they couldn't get up. They were trampled, crushed, stamped on. I saw senior boys actually grab smaller girls who were in their way, punch them and hurl them aside. It was awful, just awful. I wanted to cry - I did cry. I wanted to throw up - I nearly did. I wanted to scream and shout and make them all hear me and stop, just STOP, but it was useless, everyone was screaming and shouting.<br><br>People who were classmates, team mates, groups - they formed groups and fought like this was a crazy online clan game or something. It was sick. I was so ashamed and upset, ashamed to be a person like these people. I wanted to curl up in a ball and wait until it had gone away.<br><br>From the moment people got up and started running I didn't see a single faculty member or hear one. No doubt they were at the exits trying to get people out or shouting for calm or making signals of which way to go but they were drowned out, or swept away or maybe crushed in the rush.<br><br>Our group was kind of lucky I guess. We were towards the front of the auditorium, maybe twenty rows back and in the middle of the rows of seats, so when people got up and started pushing past or climbing over seats they mostly went away from us to either side. Maybe that's how we got out, how we survived. Just pure luck of the time we entered the auditorium and where we sat.<br><br>I got up and turned round, trying to check where everyone was going too. Mel got up and said, "C'mon, this way! Rick! Su! Let's g~" she took two or three paces and vanished behind a group of people. I called for her and saw her arm wave above some heads then it was gone. I never saw her again. I called for her and called but my voice was almost inaudible in the screaming mass. I hope to God she got out.<br><br>"Oh shit! Shit! I need to find Todd!" Katie looked around but it was hopeless.<br><br><strong>"Get down guys! Let's wait! Katie! Wait!"</strong><br><br>"Mel! MEL! FUCK!" Rick got up and went after his girlfriend, he vanished in the mass of people climbing and jumping and tripping over the seats. There was a horrible crunching sound and some screams nearby. Did a seat row collapse?<br><br>To get up was certainly to get caught in the dreadful crush and maybe get trampled. To stay risked simply being trodden on or worse trapped and crushed under collapsed rows of seats. Katie and I just hugged each other and cried.<br><br>It seemed to go on a long time, a very long time. I felt thuds and bangs and awful stabs of pain to my back and shoulders as people used me for a stepping stone. Katie and I stayed down. In her lap she tried texting Todd. "Seat S21" "Seat S21" she kept texting every few moments. The label of the back of the seat in front of us was right by her face. I was impressed how she had a clear enough head to do that.<br><br>"Katie!"<br><br>"Todd!? Todd! Oh my God!"<br><br>"Katie! Here! Right here!"<br><br>Todd was there suddenly, he had a cut to the side of his head which looked bad and his knuckles were really grazed.<br><br><em>You punched people.</em> It was all I could think of. <em>You hit people. You fought. Your own school mates!</em><br><br>"We need to get out of here."<br><br>"I know!" Katie answered him.<br><br>"Have you seen any of the others? Anne or Syeda?" I asked.<br><br>"No. No-one. Just that gorilla Benson from the Shop. He had a fucking switchblade. I saw him stab Mr West when the teacher was telling people to form a queue. He just fucking stabbed him. Right in the chest."<br><br>"Oh my God!" Katie covered her face. I think I did the same.<br><br>"Bales!? Bales!? You there?"<br><br>"Syeda! It's Syeda! Over here!"<br><br>The Pakistani girl came over. She looked a mess. Her hair, normally long and black and pretty and sleek was all tangled and tugged and messy like someone had used it as a rope or something. Her tee shirt front was all ripped down and her bra straps torn off, I could see bruises on her shoulders where they'd cut into her before they'd parted. She was clutching the remains of her top over her chest. She was limping.<br><br><strong>"Oh God! Syeda! What happened?"</strong> I stood up and hugged her, clutching on tight. We hugged madly and cried.<br><br>"Look, we gotta get out of here! You can cry later!" It was Todd.<br><br>"How? The exits are all blocked?" Katie said.<br><br>"I'm in the drama group. Let's try the stage doors, I reckon few will try that way. Come on!"<br><br>By now the largest crush of people had left the centre of the huge room. At the main exits there were still large crowds screaming, yelling, fighting... tearing... Rockford High's main auditorium is a big room. It has to be to seat 3000. There were maybe 2000 people in there a half hour ago. The room is sited at the east end of the main building complex. There are four exits - at the west end the main doors which give onto a wide corridor which runs north-south. North towards the main school entrance on Ennerdale one way and south to the main block where the cafeteria and admin area is - lockers, nurses station, Principal's office, library. The south end of that corridor gives out to a T junction of a transverse corridor serving the classrooms and science labs that are strung out in a row running east-west on the side of the main complex away from Ennerdale.<br><br>There are two fire exits that go out the north wall of the auditorium and give onto the lawns and paths along the front of the school and get you onto Ennerdale Street. There's a fourth door which is on the south wall but that just goes into the store room. Here is where all the seating is kept when the auditorium is used for other events that require the floor cleared, like proms and such. All sorts of other kit and equipment is stored here too. Double doors lead into the store and another pair of double doors lead out onto the transverse east-west corridor between the science wing and the arts classrooms. Usually those doors are kept locked. I glanced over. That hadn't deterred some people from trying them. Others had apparently seen people at the doors and thinking only of escape had pushed in behind. Maybe the doors were locked, maybe they weren't but it didn't look like they'd been opened. Then I realised they opened into the auditorium. Of course, even had they been unlocked the people at them could never have pulled them open because of the people pressing in from behind. Against the doors was a ragged pile of what looked like discarded sports equipment, but I could guess what it was. I looked away almost ready to throw up.<br><br>Two thousand people had rushed for four double door exits. Some had got out, sure, the two sets of fire escape doors had opened and the main doors but even there a huge crush of people had caused many to be injured and trampled. The main rush had been towards the main door, naturally. I noted that the crowd still trying to get out the westernmost fire door was smaller than the other two. Fewer people wanted to get out nearer the rioters.<br><br>The four of us stood in a nervous, weeping huddle and then Todd, bless him, took charge.<br><br>"Stage doors. Come on." He took hold of Katie around the waist and I and Syeda hugged together too and we made our way along the tilted and bent seating rows to the aisles. On the floor at various places were what looked like bundles of dirty laundry... there was blood too, bare legs bent at unnatural angles, heads that were not round enough... I couldn't bear to look, it was too awful.<br><br>Even at the stage which is reached by two side sets of stairs there were people, unlike Todd had suggested. The stage wings were crowded too, here people milled about, nursed injuries and called hoarsely for friends.<br><br>God this was awful. This was going to go down in infamy as one of the worst disasters ever to hit any American high school. Why hadn't they got us out earlier? Why wait so late? Who had fucked up? Someone was responsible for this, for so many innocent dead and injured. I forgot my fear and upset and now just got angry.<br><br>"It's no good. Too many people. This way." Todd turned about and led us back down off the stage.<br><br>"Where? Where can we go?" Syeda looked exhausted and close to collapse. I hugged her more and held her up.<br><br>"Here. Under the stage." Todd ran across to the front of the stage wall in the orchestra pit. No-one was down here, it wasn't a way out... was it? He pulled at a recessed handle that was mounted on the stage's front wall and a door opened. It was a low cubby hole door about five feet high. The under-stage storage.<br><br>"There's no way out of there!" Katie said.<br><br>"Trust me. There is," Todd grinned, "Some of us drama guys go in there to chill and smoke weed and drink beer some afternoons. No-one knows of the service door at the far side."<br><br>"Smoking weed! What! You never told me about that!" Katie was indignant.<br><br><strong>"Now is not the time, Kate. Please. Let's go. Todd - lead on."</strong> I nodded at the boy and he ducked down into a stoop and went inside. To the left was a light switch and he flicked it on. Under here was all kinds of crap. Old seats, gym mats, stage flats from long forgotten Christmas plays, filing cabinets full of who knew what, old desks stacked in broken heaps. Dust and must and dank smells.<br><br>Todd led us right to the back and then turned right. He came across a small door under a few hot water pipes. Here it smelled even worse. There was the tang of suspicious cigarettes in the air.<br><br>"Jesus, Todd, if the teachers had caught you..."<br><br>"But they didn't. So its all good. C'mon."<br><br>Within a few minutes we were out in a small room that was a store of some kind. Todd went to the door but it was locked.<br><br>"Balls," he cursed and looked around. Back under the stage he came out with the broken steel leg of an old desk or something and smashed it through the upper glass half of the door. He used the leg to break out all the glass and hammer the jagged bits flat so that we now had a door with a big rectangular hole in its upper half. Katie grabbed a chair and put its back to the door as a step. Todd went through, got a chair from the classroom beyond and made a step down the other side. Within a couple of minutes of struggling Syeda through the hole we were in a room I didn't recognize. Outside in a hallway there was shouting, running and the sounds of breaking glass.<br><br>"Old faculty lounge. Now disused. Part of the stage and drama store. Now for this door I have a key!" Todd held up a key with a grin. For a nerd he was pretty resourceful.<br><br>"Where'd you get that?" Katie asked him. It looked like she was discovering New And Interesting Things about her boyfriend today as well.<br><br>"Never mind," he replied. He still clutched the table leg like a club. A weapon. He moved to the door.<br><br><strong>"Wait,"</strong> I called, <strong>"Katie, here, just hold Syeda a moment."</strong> I went back across the chair steps and ducked back under the stage. I had seen them as we passed... yes, there they were. An old cloth bag with baseball bats in. What they were doing in the drama group stores and not in the sports equipment shed I had no idea. Perhaps an old school play that needed them as props? They were old wooden bats, hickory and stamped with the Rockford High Crest. Hard as steel. Maybe dumped when the school moved to aluminium bats. I didn't care. I grabbed three of them and scurried back to the others.<br><br><strong>"Here,"</strong> I said, offering one to Katie and one to Todd. Katie took one.<br><br>"I'm fine with this," Todd responded wielding his steel table leg through the air like he was in a martial arts movie. I wondered what we were doing. Were we trying to defend ourselves from the rioters (no <em>way</em> was I going anywhere near them) or from our own school mates? Todd unlocked the door.<br><br>We had come out at the very far or east end of the transverse corridor that ran away west towards the science and arts rooms and then to it's T junction with the main admin corridor. There was almost no-one around. They had all gone north to the fire doors or west to the main doors. A few people were here, running about, heading for exits. A couple were carrying crude weapons such as we were but most were just thinking of escape.<br><br><strong>"The bleachers. My car. Let's go,"</strong> I said and we hurried towards the T junction. The door opposite the T gave out onto the sports field and a way out of this nightmare.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>22-07-2010, 08:45:10</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				Sarah crouched down at the top of the stairs as Kevin headed out in front of her. She could barely hear the men behind her, down the stairs, as they battled the fire below them, trying to keep it from engulfing the lower structure. If the whole building caught fire, it would likely collapse, keeping the bottom of the building from coming down kept the whole thing up. But even so, the fire spread quick. It was an old building, with dry wood for its main structural support. This wood burned quick and hard, and the thick carpets took on fire like it was a junkie to their fix. The building was creaking, popping and the wounds of wood giving way to weight came with its wailing and then a loud, harsh snap. Sarah knew what all this meant, it meant they didn't have all the time in the world to get everyone out.<br><br>Reaching the 5th floor, Kevin moved out in front of her and she could see feet and legs of people, standing straight up in the smoke, seemingly just mulling about. She frowned at this, and began to tell Kevin to wait but he moved on without her. She couldn't believe it, smoke this thick, these people would be on the floor in seconds. It was like drowning, you tried to breathe but all you got was a thick, coarse smoke that choked your lungs the second it was inhaled. The heat was starting to effect even Sarah, but she managed through it, following after Kevin just as he reached the first man.<br><br>"<strong>Fire department, sir.</strong>" Sarah yelled just as Kevin reached the man. She began to speak again, but the man tackled Kevin to the ground and bit him. Sarah had seen people panic and fight firefighters, survival instincts kicked in and anything stopping you from moving was a bad, bad thing. But to bite right into a Nomex suit, Sarah could see the mans teeth falling out of his mouth as he bit Kevin. <br><br>Sarah worked quickly, the man was burned by otherwise seemed unharmed, surprising given the thickness of the smoke. "<strong>Sir, we're with the fire department, I need you to stay calm, we are here to help you.</strong>" Sarah yelled, trying to pull the man off Kevin, when the ... city emergeny alarm went off?<br><br>Sarah had to pause, even with what was being done to her partner, to fully understand it. Almost immediately after, as if on cue, her PASS device started whining a very special, never heard except in demonstrations alarm. The evacuation alarm, meaning get out of the building, drop whatever your doing and run. Even as a building was toppling over, which Sarah had been inside of at the time, they never used that alarm. Not the warning alarm, building was losing integrity or there was an unexpected issue that concerned her safety, not that alarm. Sarah didn't have time to think, she just acted. <br><br>Managing to push the man off Kevin, Sarah began to help the man to his feet as the other man tackled both she and Kevin to the ground. She could feel him moving over her, and if her mind were not on the job, she could reasonably assume he was coping a feel. Nothing to feel, an inch of heavy fire proof fabric between him and her, but none the less desperate people did insanely dumb things, this topped the kettle. Sarah elbowed the man in the head, but he didn't even notice as he tried to bite her helmet, knocking her head into the floor. She felt it hit, but not the impact, and a sudden wash of fear ran over her as Kevin kicked the man off her, and a familiarly distressing creak made its way into her ears. The floor on the opposite end of the hallway, just a few feet from them, gave way in a brilliant rush of flame, blocking her view of the other people but cutting them off as well. The building creaked again, and some more floor gave way, even closer. Sarah pushed herself up to her feet and went to grab the man, but now noticed he was on fire.<br><br>She could only stare, dumbfounded, as he continued to claw at her leg, even as flames rushed over him, furiously biting out at her steel-toed, puncture resistant boots. Kevin grabbed her by the arm and dragged Sarah back towards the stairs, her mind finally returning as they began to descend. The stairs almost seemed to move as Sarah caught up with other fire fighters, and Kevin slowed down back at the stairs. Noticing this, Sarah glanced back towards him and ran back, moving to grab him when the floor gave way.<br><br>In whatever time had passed, the first thing Sarah heard was her PASS alarm going absolutely nuts. Her personal distress alarm was on, so she'd been still for at least 15 seconds, likely more. Her radio crackled and hissed uselessly, and a tense feeling was tugging at her every muscle. She could see nothing but darkness, smoke mostly, but some shreds of light pierced the wall. A sudden realization struck her, Kevin wasn't near by. She thought he'd fallen too, but he wasn't next to her. Sarah stirred, pushing herself onto her left side and then onto her stomach. First she got up to her knees, and then stood, her body fighting her all the way, especially her back. She looked around, her gear was still on and the axe she'd been carrying was next to her. She grabbed it, picking it up with a groan of pain. Sarah heard an alarm near by, and quickly moved to follow it, running straight through a small layer of wood that was on fire, and coming up right in behind some fire fighters going out the front door. As she began to follow, something fell down behind her, and Sarah spun around to see the stairs were on fire, as was the entire first floor. "<strong>Holy s-</strong>" Sarah began as the stairs collapsed over, wood splintering and fire engulfing almost everything in her view. "<strong>No no no!</strong>" Sarah yelled, looking back frantically as someone grabbed her and pulled her out the door, smoke billowing out after her. She saw 4 trucks now, and a dozen hoses spewing water at the building, but it didn't matter, things were falling apart, almost every window was spewing out flames by now.<br><br>She struggled, but relented as the chief came into view, and some others from her department. She walked over to him, her gear covered in a dark layer of soot. "<strong>Ryman, which ambulance is he in?</strong>" Sarah asked, looking around in an almost frantic pace.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Writersblockade</strong> on <strong>23-07-2010, 04:55:42</strong>
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				Pandemonium. One of those SAT words that you get an overall gist of...enough to understand it's meaning and how to use it in a sentence. This, however, was that very word personified, bludgeoned, and left for dead. This was his own personal high school apocalypse, and he could only stand by as his brain still tried to take it all in. It started out well enough. Nervous chatter from students and teachers not in the know, before the teachers got more news and started moving everyone. The thing about teachers is they aren't very good at hiding fear. Calvin went willingly enough. Auditorium's as good of place as any to keep everyone okay while whatever it is that's going on is happening. <em>"Doesn't make any sense..."</em> he muttered as they left for the auditorium. <em>"What doesn't make sense, Cal?"</em> remarked Anthony, one of the other students Calvin had a chance to mentor through last year. Dropping out of his semi-daze, Calvin responded with a distracted <em>"huh? Oh, nothing Ant...we're good. Make sure you stay with your class, man. They're going to be doing head-counts as soon as everyone's in"</em>. With a nod, Anthony scurried to catch up with his class as they went in. Calvin took a passing look into the eyes of a teacher as he ushered students on. Yeah...it was fear alright. Unconsciously adjusting his book-bag tighter, Calvin walked in with the rest of the students and found his class. That was about twenty minutes ago. This is now.<br><br>Panic has turned the Auditorium into a hell of twisted bodies, fear, and desperation. Twice already he has tried to rally other kids together to find some way out of the death-trap, and twice he has failed. He had already seen Anthony's body broken by a stampede he was too slow to get out of. Others he had a chance to save, but the crowd was too thick, and his grip too slack from the sweat still pouring from his body. For the first time in a long time, Calvin didn't know what to do. He had earlier heard about rioters coming toward the school, and he had to imagine that they were the ones who started all of this. Looking around, wildly, he held onto one vicious thought that it was all their fault. Even with this adrenaline keying his heart-rate up to a techno bass-beat he still couldn't manage to power through the wild throng of people between him and an exit. By pure chance he happened to be looking at about 3 or 4 people climbing under the stage, and slowly made his way there, lest he cause a panic in his direction.<br><br>For absolutely no reason at all, Wesley Hunter tried to take his damn head off. Calvin didn't have a lot of time to question, or explain. After a short bout of punches and a well placed side-kick, Wesley wasn't in much of a mood to do anything but lay on the ground. Calvin had things to do, and dying here was not one of them. After a few minutes, he managed to get to the stage and under it. The group ahead wasn't trying to lose him, so following their way out was even easier than he imagined. Coming out of a hallway, he tried to make his way to the main entrance. Maybe there was a way to get the other kids out still. Passing a classroom, he paused for a moment and backtracked. There, on the Mr. Duncan's desk, were a few pieces of baseball equipment that he must have decided did not belong in the auditorium. Calvin looked up at the tiled ceiling gave a small thanks before he grabbed the aluminum bat. It had some good heft to it. With the bat in hand, Calvin started to get a little more of his confidence back. He could hack this...sure he failed the first time around, but this is going to be different for now on.<br><br>Out of the classroom, he jogged his way around the corner to the main entrance, only to see that the rioters had already broken through 'Fuck me silly!' his mind thought frantically as his feet tried to reverse. Sadly, the school decided that this was the week they were going to shine the floors, and it wasn't long before the quest for reverse ended in him on his ass. As his mind teetered on popping a gear, he couldn't help but giggle as he thought 'we've got a black man down, we've got a black man down'. As he stared at them, he found that he couldn't stand. Something wasn't right about these people. They were moving like they were in a trance...until they noticed him. Then they moved just fine. At the moment the first zombie started toward him, Calvin's mind freed up and his body followed suit. Never before has a person been so glad that they've played sports for years before an event like this. Calvin doesn't even remember the last time he moved so fast, and he couldn't help but think 'okay coach...I've just found a way to improve my forty time!' as he ran through the double doors, and towards the athletic fields. <br><br>His muscles burned from the leakage of adrenaline, and his sweat smelled like some kinda weird battery. He took a walk around and tried to get an idea of his situation. He took the bus to school, but could make it home on foot if he had to...it would just take him three times as long, which wasn't a healthy prospect when dealing with whatever the hell those people were. He took out his phone to tried to call his mom, but couldn't get it to work. In his frustration, he was about to slam it on the asphalt before common sense took over. He took a moment to gain his composure, just like his sensei taught him. He must have looked a sight while he stood bent legged and back straight. His calm had returned slowly while his lung breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly through his mouth. This thoughts turned from jumbles to a quick, but steady stream. Beyond a doubt, he knew he needed a car, and he'd have to go through a few rioters to even have a chance of getting one.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rhoswen</strong> on <strong>23-07-2010, 08:13:53</strong>
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				<span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"><em><strong>Lasair Rowen</strong></em></span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"><em>After the announcements, all matter of chaos took place in her class. The students stampeded toward the lecture hall doors,pushing and squeezing past one another out into an already congested hallway. There was no way to control this Lasair knew and just watched how it all unfolded. The announcements had her calculating her own self-preservation during the state of emergency and if she could get to her own home. Lasair couldn’t see herself being pushed and hurried toward the building’s entrance by screaming students. She disrobed, replacing the lab coat back upon its hook, then waited out the stampede for as long she could. </em></span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"><em>Back into her briefcase went her lectures, exam papers, and files she needed to study. Nevertheless, as always Lasair had been planning her next move, a move that did not entail, being locked up on this campus. <strong>“Home, dam it…I’ve go to get home.”</strong> She mumbled this out of nervousness and for the lack of really knowing what and where to go during this whole thing. <strong>“Yes, home in my bed watching this hellish emergency from the comfort of my own home. Sure I’ll lock the doors, windows, and set the security alarm, making sure all should be well.”</strong> She realized she was speaking aloud all the things she thought. <strong>“Oh wow Lasair, another great mind bits the dust. You are standing here talking to your self, and still-doing-it.” </strong>Fighting the zipper of the case to close, gave it one last desperate tug, this finally shut the overly stuffed big pockets of her soft leather brief case. In jest, the bag vs. Professor was not over yet. Confirming to herself what the&nbsp; final plan was, knew that she was to travel straight home, and was to avoid the urge to do her usual pit stops at all cost. </em></span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"><em>The Professor would still out of stubbornness try to break such rules in a declared state of emergency; still venturing on to the firing range and then over to Abe’s Bar. She was going to have to stick with the game plan and wait until this crisis was over, in the confines of her home. </em></span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"><em>Checking her station mumbled yet again to herself, <strong>“Yes a few glasses of red wine should…no wait; beer… should put me at ease. That’s where I need to be right now during this hellish state of emergency.”</strong> Her hands and body trembled uncontrollably every now and then unsure of what to make of things from her side fence. Working quickly to get out of there had been trying to retrieve her car keys from a side pocket she hardly used in her soft leather bag; which laughably was busting at the seams always. The side pocket of her briefcase, with all the papers inside it did make getting into that section all that much more difficult. She scrapped her hand across the teeth of the zipper tracks several times, while jamming her hand inside over, and over again for those keys. </em></span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"><em>A clank of the doors opening above the middle isle drew her attention quickly having believed the building was for the most part empty. Lasair watched a colleague, Professor James Kratz step into the lecture hall. By description, was 20 years older then her. He kept himself in excellent condition while he sported a short hairstyle of ebony hair which complimented his face very well. The hint of graying gave his thick hair a distinguishable look. They always shared lunches, or dinners every now and then; depending on how late they stayed in the labs. </em></span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"><em>Now, he was not looking at all his best. Instead he looked like he who had just gone a few rounds in a rowdy bar. His lab coat was blood stained, no doubt by his own, bottom lip half swollen, and hair was a complete tangled mess. <strong>“Professor Kratz…What happened to you?”</strong> A dumb question right. He either, was in the hall, or he was trampled down in the classroom. Kratz was not comfortable about how things went down at the school and wanted to get out as much as Lasair looked to want too. He grabbed her briefcase and pulled her by the hand explaining as he headed them both toward an exit of the lecture hall. Before she could ask him any further questions, he was already telling her what happened down the hall from her. </em></span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"><em><strong>“Well I was coming to see how you faired, after the masses rushed toward the doors of the building after the announcements. Getting down the hall as a Professor didn’t offer me any safe passage. I was elbowed in the eye and gutted deep several times every time I bellowed professor coming through.” </strong>He stopped talking as he pulled Lasair through the halls with him. Once they rounded the hall at the exit saw for themselves they were going to be a while waiting to leave behind lingering students still trying to get out the building. Lasair’s mouth dropped to see that the hall was still, packed with students. She almost wanted to scream herself wanting to get out of that bedlam.</em></span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"><em>Thinking now realized they were going to have to backtrack, and take the long way around to the staff parking lot, out back. It was enough to make anyone groan knowing they had to run through the lab department and its many locked doors and double spaced labs. Laughing, they turned around and each swiped his or her badge and swiftly plowed down the many halls toward the staff parking out back.&nbsp; “<strong>Lasair, can I ask a favor?” </strong>He panted as they ran. <strong>“Can I stay at your place? Last week I moved into a residential suite at the Royal Hotel. I figured during this state of emergency that the college will need as much help as they can get.” </strong>He hoped she would say yes.</em></span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"><em>Charging though the fungus department, Lasair grinned and agreed. <strong>“Yes you can I have plenty of room.”</strong> She was right of course; her dearly departed parents left her a 7-bedroom house. The smell in the fungi segment was strong of sulfur. In a near by lab they started hearing the latest updates on a blaring radio about the riot and its unusual resiliency in strength. But the operative word that rang out was cannibalism, which shook her to her very core to not totally understand what was really being described and thought it was misheard by her before James yanked at hand arm to pull her on. Hearing last how the rioting has manifested at Rockford high had her heart pounding in her chest not just from the brisk run to the back of the building but hearing it reached he high school. <strong>“DID YOU HEAR THAT? This crazy mob has reached the high school."</strong> He nodded that he did still manuvering the lab maze of offices and still he said nothing. This was not something Rowen could brush off easily as a common factor with mobs. Hearing how things were falling a part now; wanted to linger longer by the radio to make clear she had not misunderstood some of the words being usded on the station such as cannibalism.&nbsp; &nbsp;</em></span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>rick957</strong> on <strong>24-07-2010, 06:31:56</strong>
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				<strong>CAL SNYDER<br><em>Rockford City College, Boyd Hall, ground floor<br>Room 104-A, ASTR 201: Introductory Astronomy</em></strong><br><br>Yes, there were horror stories.&nbsp; Police getting overrun.&nbsp; Firefighters in harm's way.&nbsp; Kids being trampled.&nbsp; Cal had heard a few such stories already that day, and he would hear -- and see -- many more before the day was through.&nbsp; But there were other stories too:&nbsp; acts of heroism, large and small.&nbsp; Quick-thinking rescues.&nbsp; Unlikely alliances formed.<br><br>Professor Tom Cardoza witnessed one such story after pulling himself off the floor of Room 104-A in Boyd Hall, where his early afternoon Astronomy class had been interrupted by a pair of campus-wide announcements, followed by what he could only describe as a human stampede.&nbsp; He had waded bravely into the midst of the nearly 110 students trying to squeeze simultaneously through the front left exit of the lecture hall (the front right exit was chained up and, as always, blocked by an overhead projector and stand; they'd never needed to use both exits before).&nbsp; He had grabbed shoulders, barked orders, then shouted them, all to no avail, before getting swept into the press of torsos and elbows, and inevitably knocked down by someone.&nbsp; The shove that took him down had been inadvertent -- they usually were in these situations -- but that was precisely the problem.&nbsp; No one was thinking, just reacting mindlessly:&nbsp; getting pushed and pushing in turn, without considering what could happen to the people in front of all the pushing, or what happened if someone slipped to the ground, with everyone packed too tightly to even see what they were stepping on.<br><br>Dr. Cardoza had been lucky; a brief, loud noise from somewhere in the room had caught the attention of those nearest him, stopping their forward progress just long enough for him to climb back to his feet.&nbsp; He was clear-headed enough to recognize the very real danger of someone getting injured by the mindless throng, but he couldn't get anyone to listen to reason, with all the chattering and shuffling, and the ponderous wail of the city siren in the distance, raising the blood pressure of everyone within earshot.&nbsp; Shaken by his own near-injury, he paused in his futile crowd-control efforts and glanced over to see where that loud whistle had come from, the one that might have saved him from getting trampled.&nbsp; Shortly, his glance became a slack-jawed stare.<br><br>Over near the locked exit at the other side of the front of the room stood Cynthia Cartwright, a sophomore theater major, on top of a table, holding a big neon sheet of poster board, upon which someone had written the word "STOP" in large capital letters.&nbsp; She positioned the sign in front of her so that it covered the bottom 2/3rds of her body.&nbsp; Just above the sign were her fully-exposed 19-year-old breasts.&nbsp; <br><br>Cal Snyder had needed a minute to process the full import of the announcements, so he'd remained seated while the stampede had begun; his mind was on his Aunt Ginny, home alone in Rockford's south-central residential area, which the dean had just advised everyone to avoid.&nbsp; His fit of worry gave way immediately to a moment of alarm, and then astonishment, as he realized what he was witnessing from his seat in the middle of the hall.&nbsp; He was just far enough away to really pay attention to all the voices in the din, including the ones who were protesting -- urging others to stop, back up, back off -- even a shout or two for help, which went either unheard or unheeded by the members of the crowd.&nbsp; Like the professor, Cal recognized the first signs of an impending catastrophe, right in front of him, and his keen intellect went to work.&nbsp; Something had to be done; something fast, and something more than the obvious tactics a few others were trying.&nbsp; Ben Thompson, Sasha Fullerton, and a few others had come to the same conclusion Cal had, that the evacuation was getting dangerous, but their shouting from the back of the crowd was ignored by the single-minded mass of fleeing students.&nbsp; <br><br>A few seconds of observation brought Cal to the realization that the largest and most aggressive pushers were the male students.&nbsp; Seeing his friend Cynthia lingering near the back of the crowd, outside of the press, he hatched an instantaneous scheme.&nbsp; Cynthia was an aspiring actor whose love of spontaneity and lack of inhibitions made her well-suited for her chosen field.&nbsp; Besides those enviable traits, she was also smart enough to need relatively little convincing from Cal that drastic measures were needed if they were going to prevent a disaster from occurring.&nbsp; By the time he found the magic markers and sheets of poster board under the long counter/table at the front of the room, Cynthia had agreed to his plan to stop the males of the herd in their tracks.<br><br>And it <em>almost</em> worked.&nbsp; The problem was that by the time Cynthia took to the tabletop sans bra and blouse, everyone's eyes and attention were directed toward the doorway at the far left in the front of the room, while her perch was more to the right, closer to the opposite, unused exit, and completely out of everyone's line of sight.&nbsp; Cal's best two-fingered wolf whistle turned the heads of a few at the rear of the crowd but failed to penetrate to the front, where the noise and press was worst.<br><br>That's when the real story took place.&nbsp; Senior Sasha Fullerton was fairly well-known around the campus as the captain of the Rockford City College Women's Volleyball team, which she had led to top-five showings at the AVCA Division III championships for two years straight.&nbsp; With her tight, toned physique and fresh-faced good looks, she was just the kind of divine stunner Cal was used to admiring from afar, but whose exclusive social circles were completely closed off to him.&nbsp; In this situation, however, the sexy sports star found common cause with the lowly math major.<br><br>As a natural leader, Sasha knew a good idea when she saw one.&nbsp; Abandoning her fruitless attempts to verbally convince everyone to calm down, she grabbed her friend and teammate Cassie Howard and dashed over to Cal's side.&nbsp; Sasha smirked gamely at the sight of Cynthia's B-cups, showing her competitive nature.&nbsp; <strong>"Not bad, toots, but it looks like you could use some help.&nbsp; Got some signs for us, smart guy?"</strong> she asked Cal, while pulling her shirt over her head to reveal her shapely C's.&nbsp; In a final bit of inspiration, Cal went from whistling to high-pitched hooting and whooping, which was immediately picked up and echoed by other males throughout the crowd.&nbsp; With a quick turn of their heads, suddenly they had six excellent reasons to walk slower, maybe even dawdle for a while ....<br><br>It wasn't long before the topless trio became a foursome -- D-cups this time -- and finally a quintet, when one of the girls lured her frat-boy significant other into taking a stand for gender equity and <em>fully</em> disrobing.&nbsp; The final row of signs read:&nbsp; "STOP" "THINK" "SLOW" "=" "SAFE" -- a succint reminder that registered successfully with everyone, once their attention had been drawn by a little nubile nudity.&nbsp; The math geek, the budding thespian, the frat boy, and the girl athletes banded together and turned what might have been another tragedy into a cute anecdote told around campus for the rest of the day, after the last gawkers drifted safely away from Boyd Hall.&nbsp; Apart from a few scrapes and bruises, not one person was hurt.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Michael Corvus</strong> on <strong>24-07-2010, 06:40:07</strong>
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				<strong>Michael Winters</strong><br><br>Michael had waited until the students were all inside the auditorium before he left his ‘post’ near the double door entrance. He walked down the hallway on his way back to his classroom, unaware of the severity of the situation just outside the High School. He knew that the riots were getting out of control. He knew that the school was being evacuated in the interest of the student’s safety. But he was still under the assumption that the riots were mostly on the east side of town, totally unaware that they were, in fact, just outside the school... and he didn’t know the rioters were in fact a mass horde of mindless zombies. After all, zombies didn’t exist.<br><br>Unlocking the door to his classroom he quickly moved inside to retrieve his briefcase. In all the commotion earlier, he had forgotten it. He kept his cell phone and all his school papers inside, as well as the new playbook he had been working on for next season’s new offensive scheme which he planned to install during the fall. <br><br>With his briefcase in had, Michael closed the door behind him once again, giving the key a quick turn and checking the door to ensure it was indeed locked. He turned to return to the auditorium where the other teachers were most likely gathered discussing their next move and scrutinizing the state and city’s emergency guidelines. <br><br>”Mr. Winters.” It was Mrs. Neuman, and she looked none too happy. She was short woman with salt-and-pepper hair (mostly salt) and sharp, pointed facial features which betrayed her rather plump figure. She glared at Michael of the rim of her rather thick, old fashioned style bi-focals, her hands on her hips and her lips in a tightly formed straight line across her face.<br><br><strong>”Mrs. Neuman. Can I help you with something?”</strong> His voice was smooth and calm.<br><br>”Hmmpf! I bet you say that to a lot of your female students, don’t you Mr. Winters? I’ve had my eye on you for some time now and I know what you are, Mr. Winters. I know all about your ‘extracurricular activity’ with certain female students. I’ve suspected for quite some time now…”<br><br>Michael felt the flood drain from his face and his stuck in his throat. He tried to feign outrage at her allegations. <strong>”Mrs. Neuman! How dare you accuse me of such perversions!”</strong> he interrupted. <strong>”Your insinuations are an insult to my integrity and my profe…</strong>”<br><br>”You HAVE no integrity, Mr. Winters!” She brought her hand up in a smug gesture. Her plump fingers, adorned with numerous rings of varying sizes and gems gripped a VHS tape. ”and I finally have the proof I need.”<br><br>Michael felt his heart fall from his throat and sink into the pit of his stomach. His eyes were fixated on the tape and his mouth suddenly felt full of cotton. He swallowed, trying to produce some spit and moisten his mouth. <strong>”You don’t … what’ve you got there, Mrs. Neuman? I’ll tell you what you’ve got, NOTHING! Now, if you don’t mind I have to get…”</strong> He hoped she was bluffing, trying to coax a confession from him. She wagged the tape at him before stuffing it in her oversized purse and zipping it shut.<br><br>“Oh, I’m willing to bet that the Board of Education as well as the RPD would hardly call video evidence of a certain high school cheerleader engaged in sexual acts with one of her teachers… and on his desk… “NOTHING!” Wouldn’t you agree, Mr. Winters?” He was caught. He was speechless. She knew about his session with Brandee James, the smoking hot, leggy brunette cheerleader with the bubble butt. His mind raced, trying to find a way out of this one. <em>”‘If she knows about her, she must be telling the truth about the video. But how did she get video of us? None of the classroom’s had any cameras!”</em> He thought, searching for answers. Noting his alarm, she smirked. ”Oh, Mr. Winters… you didn’t know about the new security cameras that were installed in all the classrooms last weekend, did you?” She smirked somewhat victoriously which quickly faded into a disgusted scowl. She slowly turned, heading towards the auditorium to find Principal Carlson and report her findings. ”Good day Mr. Winters!” she huffed and marched down the hall away from him.<br><br>He stood there watching her storm away, his mind and heart both racing. Pleading, he started after her, <strong>”Mrs. Neuman! Please, wait! Surely we can work someth…”</strong> Suddenly a cacophony of terrified screams spilled from the auditorium and flooded the hallways. <br><br>Students erupted from the auditorium sprinting and screaming in a crazed panic as they charged towards Mrs. Neuman and Michael seeking a means of escape. Mrs. Neuman screamed with surprise and tried to turn and run but was far too slow. She was knocked to the floor and trampled, crushed to death by the surging masses of frightened students. Michael watched in horror as Mrs. Neuman disappeared under the stampede and promptly pivoted, sprinting ahead of the wall of bodies headed in his direction.<br><br>Reaching the intersecting hallway, he nimbly rounded the corner and dashed towards one of the schools back doors. Bursting through the double doors, he kept running until he reached the gravel parking lot. Stopping to turn around, he watched as students poured out through the doors and scurried in every direction. Some ran to their cars that were parked in the gravel parking lot. Others ran west and south towards the river and the docks, respectively. <br><br>Beyond the students that poured from the school, beyond the school building itself Michael’s attention was captured by the unbelievable scene. He heard the distinct <em>pok pok pok</em> of small arms fire mixed with the sounds of men yelling and screaming. Beneath it all was an eerie underlying, droning … <em>moaning</em> sound. As if hundreds of people were all groaning and moaning in disgust. The strobes of emergency response vehicles created a broken line along Ennerdale and Fox street in an attempt to form a makeshift barricade. Their attempt had obviously failed and the rioters were streaming through a slow, ambling pace towards the parking lot.<br><br>Travis Wynn ran up to Michael and grabbed his arm. “Coach! Coach! We gotta get the hell outta here! The rioters are killing people, Coach! Come’on!” Travis was a senior linebacker and the team’s defensive captain. He was one of the meanest, toughest kids on the team. To see fear in his eyes was something Michael had never witnessed… until now. The huge linebacker grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the field house. <br><br>Reaching his truck, he quickly unlocked the door and tossed his briefcase inside. Travis climbed into the cabin and closed the door and yelled. “Coach! Come on!” Michael watched as some of the rioters began making their way along the side of the building towards the rear entrance where students were still streaming from the door.<br><br>In a panicked moment of adrenalin, Michael yelled and waves his arms towards the students. <strong>”LOOK OUT! GET OUTTA THERE!”</strong>&nbsp; One of the leading rioters turned the corner and grabbed a young girl who ran out, screaming. Unfortunately, she got too close to the rioter who grabbed her and sunk his teeth into her face, tearing a huge flap of flesh from her cheek. She screamed and flailed in futility as blood sprayed from her face and stained her clothes. A couple of boys fought with the rioter, trying to help free the girl without success.<br><br>Michael jumped into his truck and keyed the engine, pressing the accelerator and making the engine growl angrily. He grabbed the shifter on the floor and put it into gear, racing towards the back door of the building and honking his horn wildly. A small group of rioters had nearly made their way around to the back door. The girl had been dragged several feet away from the door and now lay on the ground, her attacker on his hands and knees as he tore at her neck with his blood covered face. He knew the girl was dead and was determined to keep the small group of rioters from reaching the back doors. <br><br>Weaving his way carefully through the fleeing, panic-stricken students, he pressed on the horn, holding it down continuously. Reaching an area that was clear of students, he lined up his approach and barreled into the small group of blood stained rioters sending most of them flying through the air after crashing into his front bumper. A couple of them rolled underneath the truck’s large tires causing the truck to bounce a little. He slammed on the breaks and got out of the truck and grabbed the baseball bat he kept behind the bench seat of his pickup. Striding over to the rioter who had attacked that poor girl, he lifted the bat high over head and, without hesitation, brought it down with a mighty blow to the man’s head which caved into a gooey mess around his bat. Travis sat quietly, his eyes wide as he stared ahead in shock at what he had just witnessed. <br><br>Marching back to his truck, he climbed inside, placing the bat across his lap. Putting the truck in gear once again, he began to pull away just as several students ran up to his truck and began to climb into the truck bed. He slid the rear window open and yelled back to them <strong>”Hang on!”</strong> before speeding away from the horrific scene. He didn’t know where he was going yet. Just, away. He headed west, crossed over Darius Street before hanging a left and connecting with the bridge leading across Circular River.<br><br>As they passed students and other people fleeing across the bridge, the cabin of his truck was very quiet. Neither he nor Travis spoke a word.<br><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Writersblockade</strong> on <strong>26-07-2010, 05:36:27</strong>
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				<em>Calvin Winslow</em><br><br>If he thought inside the school was bad, then what he saw outside was considerably worse. The student body had mixed it up with the rioters outside while he tried to crouch-walk through the parking lot. As he snuck a look through a car’s windows, he saw students engulfed by the rioters. A symphony of screams carried into his area, and caused him to cringe against a teacher’s Passat. As he stared blankly at the gravel beneath him, his mouth worked furiously as he whispered “Stay Strong, Stay Strong. You can make it, just Stay Strong” over, and over again. After some time behind the car, Calvin came back to his senses and stopped whispering. He had noticed that he’d been shaking, and it was a minor miracle that one of the rioters hadn’t stumbled into him while he was out of it. He was about to check the Passat’s doors when running footsteps made him jump back and ready his bat. It took a few seconds to recognize Winters, but once he had, his legs moved of their own accord, as they naturally gravitated toward the authority figure.<br><br>“Coach! Coach Winters!” his mind cried as he ran. Unfortunately, there seemed to be a temporary disconnect from his brain to his mouth, because he only really uttered a cotton-mouth gurgle. He saw the coach get into the truck and roar away. An all too consuming fear of being left behind had prompted the receiver’s already tired legs into full motion. The crunch of gravel and his ragged breathing was his world for about a minute before he saw the truck plow through some of the rioters. When he saw the coach step out the truck, Calvin angled to cover his back as he took a bat to one of the rioters. The coach hadn’t seen the other rioter that he only grazed with the truck coming for him, or his savage departure by Calvin. The Swing had all of Calvin’s weight into it, and he almost lost his balance despite connecting. The rioter laid still, the indentation of his temple much more pronounced than it should be.<br><br>He saw the coach get back to his truck, and followed the lead of a few other students that piled into the back of the truck. As they sped off, he managed to grab one more student, and helped to pull them in before the hard turn. As he crouched in the bed of the truck, he held on to the student that he helped and stared around at the survivors. He knew, despite how obvious it sounded, that this was the beginning of the end. He understood, as some of the students who couldn’t hang on fell by the way-side, that everyone would not make it through this and his eyes blurred. Anger, frustration, and helplessness fell from his eyes in warm drops, and he only felt worse because he didn’t want to let go of the other person. In the end, all he could do for himself, and the person he could barely see, was hang on and hope for something better. From the muffled sounds of crying around him, he knew even that hope was a fragile thing.<br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>26-07-2010, 14:10:01</strong>
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				SUSAN BAILEY<br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i279.photobucket.com/albums/kk137/HaibaneR/Su_Avatar.jpg)</div>We made our way down the long corridor to the main intersection, classrooms empty on both sides of us. A few people pushed past and many were aggressive. I clung tighter to the limping Syeda and we finally reached the cross roads of corridors. Down to the right was the Ennerdale Street entrance - that corridor was chaotic and students were still pouring out of the auditorium doors and at the far end... <strong>"Oh crap! Todd! They're here! They're getting in!"</strong><br><br>There seemed to be a pitched battle going on between the lockers in the main hall with students grabbing whatever they could - I saw one boy with seemingly superhuman strength born of utter desperation rip a pressed steel locker door off it's hinges and wield it above his head like some crazy deranged real life version of a Final Fantasy character. He brought the improvised steel blade down on an attackers head with a sickening sound and there was a cheer.<br><br>"Fucking eat shit you dead son of a whore!"<br><br>"Alright Mark! Again, kill those fuckers!"<br><br>"They're already fucking dead you asshole! Smash their heads in!"<br><br>I was stunned. It was worse than anything the TV had brought into my crib - worse than the New Orleans flood looting, worse than the LA Riots of '95. It was clear there was no way out towards Ennerdale so Todd pulled Katie with him in a left turn towards the sports pitches.<br><br>With dismay there was a queue of people here too, though most were just curious and a little panicked and looking over the heads of those in front at the blockage at the door.<br><br>"What's happening?" Syeda asked me in a faint voice. The way she spoke frightened me badly.<br><br><strong>"Todd, we need to get out of here. Syeda needs a doctor!"</strong><br><br>"I can't get past! They're fighting outside the door!"<br><br>Suddenly there was the roar of a truck engine and people screamed and shouted. The sounds of fighting got worse and then the roar of a meaty Detroit product came again, gravel spitting and kids shouting, "Come on! Jump on! Lets go! <em>COME ON!</em>"<br><br>"Hey, bitch, I'll take that." It was a male voice behind me.<br><br><strong>"What?"</strong><br><br>"Hey get the hell off!" Katie was being attacked by some senior guy I didn't know. One of the loser crowd, one of the rough dudes who wore bike leathers, chewed gum and jerked off in class, wasting everyone's time.<br><br>"Get away from her!" Todd shouted, turning on the guy and pushing Katie behind him.<br><br>"Gimme the fuckin' baseball bat you dork!" The big guy lunged at Todd and in a whirl Todd swung his metal table leg into the guy's midsection. He went down with a weird 'oofing' sound and a horrible meaty thud.<br><br>"Todd! You can't do that!" Katie screamed.<br><br>"Hey man!" some other guy shouted from down towards Ennerdale, "Need you up the front man, gotta stop these dead muthafuckas from gettin' in! Use yer weapon man!" I just stared, lost at his words.<br><br>"I can't kill anyone, I'm not that type!" Todd shouted back.<br><br>"You don't need to fuckin' kill 'em man, they're already dead!" The other guy shouted. On the floor Biker Thug was groaning and getting up. <em>Jeez, he wearing body armour or something?</em><br><br>"Talk sense you idiot!" Todd shouted back.<br><br>"Man, you'll find out soon enough. Right out that door. They ain't riotin' they're fuckin' zombies! WHURR!" He lifted his arms out straight and did a Frankenstein's monster sort of caricature, "That's right, like in the fuckin' movies. Its a fuckin' video game man, so I hope you got full health and armour coz yer fuckin' gonna need 'em!" The guy ran into a classroom and after a crunching of wood came out again with a table leg and ran off down towards the fight in the corridor towards Ennerdale where a band of male students seemed to be holding position.<br><br>"Shit," Todd said, "this is fucked up."<br><br>"Classroom!" Katie said, stepping past Biker Thug who was sitting up and looking meaner than ever, "We can get out the windows!"<br><br>I turned and dragged Syeda into the nearest classroom. Todd sprinted across and tried the window. Like all school security windows it only opened a few inches at the bottom. Useless. Todd grabbed a metal chair, shouted "Get down!" and swung it at the window. There was the satisfyingly loud sound of smashing glass and pushing a desk up to the broken window Todd went out, then turned to take Syeda from my arms. I think she'd fainted. Katie and I followed and we scurried around people and past people and after a few minutes pushing through the shouting madness we reached a more open space. Todd was amazing. He carried Syeda in his arms all the way up to the Field House. Lots of cars were missing, those who could make it out had done so. I got my keys, opened Steve and we piled in.<br><br>Katie ran to the Field House and went inside.<br><br>"What the hell are you doing?" Todd shouted after her and in seconds she came back out, several sets of football pads in her arms. She popped the trunk and threw them in.<br><br>"I just thought. Protection. Or something." She said a bit sheepishly.<br><br><strong>"We can take more people."</strong> I said, <strong>"A couple more."</strong><br><br>"And get swamped? No way, we need to get Syeda to hospital. You saw that Tom Cruise movie, 'War of the Worlds', once people see a working car they'll beat the crap out of us and steal it. Just go!" I was amazed at Katie's selfishness, but she had a point. The idea of someone stealing Steve made me angrier still.<br><br>I gunned the engine, shifted into reverse and with a roar of power the Mustang swung out and back, the front end spinning round to face School Walk. I floored it and we stayed still, an immense noise and rattling of gravel and pinging of stone on the paintwork of the cars behind me.<br><br>"Lift off the gas, Bales!" Todd said from the right hand seat. I did so and the tyres bit in and we lurched forward. I popped the clutch and the car stalled, my head nearly dinking the steering wheel. Todd said nothing but I knew what he was thinking.<br><br><strong>"It's alright. I'll get it, I'll get it."</strong><br><br>"Just stay calm," he said, "Stay calm and it'll be fine."<br><br>I turned the ignition and Steve rumbled back into life. I pushed the clutch, re-selected first, applied gas and lifted off. We went. Not so fast this time. At the exit to School Walk two guys were wandering across the gravel. I leaned on the horn. They turned to look at us. My mouth fell open and my eyes went wide as saucers.<br><br>They had no faces. None. There were just mangled bloody - things. One had eyes that stared out of a disgusting red mush, the other didn't even have that. The tatters of facial skin were blueish-grey and hung down in strips, like someone had eaten their faces and they'd just got up again as neat as you please and walked off. They held a slow shambling pace and walked straight at us. Even then I couldn't bring myself to run a person down, the instinct to not hurt someone was too strong. I swerved past them, jinking right then left and roared out the gate and drifted all four wheels across School Walk, feeding power as the tyres bit. The back end fishtailed and we were away roaring towards Darios Street.<br><br>Todd had swung round in his seat in amazement to stare at the two faceless men. He turned back and buckled up his seatbelt. I didn't blame him, my driving wasn't that good. I buckled mine up as I screeched to a halt at the junction with Darios. There was surprisingly little road traffic around.<br><br>"The guy was right. Zombies. Like... from comics!" I nodded silently, poofed some stray hair out of my face and swung left onto Darios. I needed to go west a block onto Warren and then head north for the hospital but I wasn't going to hang a left until a couple of blocks north of Ennerdale. I might even stay on River Avenue until we hit Mission Street.<br><br>"Zombies. Fuck," Todd supplied again. I had to agree. Fuck, indeed.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>NosCorventius</strong> on <strong>26-07-2010, 17:54:37</strong>
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				Eddie approached the car cautiously. One didn't live long in his line of work without gaining a heavy dose of paranoia and with all the shit going down this morning it looked like today his Spidey-sense was going to be on DEFCON ONE for rest of the day. Eddie also had a slight aversion to blood. Not because it made him grossed out but because you never knew what people had in their system. In his years as a pusher he'd seen eighty year old church ladies shooting up right beside the football players and the homeless vet. It made him damn glad he'd never gotten involved with them himself. He'd known far too many dealers that had started using more product then they were selling and ended up in an early grave. Hell Eddie didn't even sleep with his own girls, too worried about what he'd catch from the lying bitches he sold nightly to the bored, the perverted, and the unloved. All these quirks either made Eddie a smart man or a complete wackjob, he cared little either way as long as he lived long enough to spend the money. He didn't particularly want to spend time in the clink either.<br><br>Those were the goals today. Stay safe. stay out of jail. Make a bit of profit.....Maybe get laid. Actually those were pretty much his goals everyday but todays riots seemed to have moved stay safe up the list a little. So he approached the car slowly. Checked his corners, blind spots, looked up, and behind, stayed close to walls, and defensive positions. All of the defensive behaviors his step dad had grilled him to do over and over again before he left with that damn blonde bitch secretary of his. It sounds like it would take forever to move a couple feet with all the maneuvering and monitoring but really it took maybe a 5 minutes max, thanks to all the practice he'd had at it as a kid and more importantly in his adult life. <br><br><strong><em>Okay lets see couple roaming mobiles looting or in panic mode, no cops, some stoned or crazy fucks looking at their bellybuttons; a dead girl, and a nice ride with a bit of crimson splash paint.</em></strong> Eddie thought as he ran down a mental Sitch report in his head.<strong><em> Yep situation normal. All fucked up as usual, sir.</em></strong> <br><br>Eddie eyeballed both the crazies and the "dead girl" suspiciously trying to determine if either was going to suddenly make a move to try and take the Vette from him. Neither seemed interested so he made a move for the vehicles drivers side door and stuck his head in quickly to search the backseat. <br><br><strong><em>No one there, good hate to end up like poor Frank, stupid bastard.</em></strong> ,he thought as he remembered his old partner in crime and best friend, who was now serving 20 years for kidnapping cause he'd boosted a car with two kids in the backseat. <strong><em> was constantly telling him to look before he leapt but not that guy. Hope he's okay, might visit him next month.</em> </strong> He thought as he closed the door and turned the ignition. As the gentle rumble of the Vette several heads turned in Eddies direction and though the blank expressions showed no real malice the sudden movement of them as a group in the direction of the car suggested otherwise. Eddie elegantly summed up his feelings about his new situation in four words as he backed the Stingray off the curb. <br><br><strong>"Shit....Fuck...Hell…Damn!!..."</strong><br><br>Eddie glance in the side mirror only to come face to face with one of the previously docile men, whose lower face Eddie realized was covered in blood. Blood that from the angle of descent and amount didn't appear to be his own. <br><br><strong>HOLY FUCK ME!!!!</strong> Eddie yelped as he changed gears and quickly hit the gas, glad that the objects in mirror were not as close as they appeared, just this once. <br><br><strong>"Fucking Rioters must be on a majorly bad batch to do shit like that."</strong> He mumbled as he turned on the radio. <br><br>".....above the forward elements of the riot in progress. The mob has moved east across Fission Street and is now heading straight for Rockford High School! There is currently no sign of the RPD's attempts to stop the rioters other than a single SWAT van which appears to have been stormed by the rioters. Looking down I can see several bodies dressed in RPD tactical gear. It appears that the city's attempts to stop the progress of this riot are in complete disarray. The mob is less than a block away from Fox Street now. And closing the distance....this reporter can only hope that Rockford High has already been evacuated" came the clearly shaken voice of a reporter over the soft thump thump thump of rotary blades. <br><br><strong>"Fuck even going after kids now. World is a truly messed up place."</strong> ,he commented out loud as he turned onto Ennerdale and followed it east to the little side street that followed Jimbo’s Junk, Scrap, Metal, Parts, and Tires property line. Rockford’s local Junkyard, Jimbo‘s also did a healthy bit of business on the side as a chop and mod shop, which is what brought Eddie through its high rod iron gate. Usually The Junkyard was a mass of activity, Mechanics, cutters, and scrappers, in overalls running back and forth between the maze of cars and the shop-houses; cranes swinging hunks of metal into the compressor, Welders sparking, etc. but today it was quite as a grave.<br><br><strong> “Ah Man don’t tell me Big Ol’ Jimbo stayed at home. I didn’t think anything scared that big ass biker. Let alone some Crazies headed in the wrong direction. Nah, he’s gotta be here somewhere. Guess I’ll have to get out and look for the fat bastard. Maybe he’s in the shop.” </strong> Eddie reasoned, realizing for not the first time that he talked to himself a bit more then was strictly healthy. <br><br>Eddie shut off the car but left the keys inside since he’d be moving it in a second anyways and moved off to search the squat building to his right that served as one of the chop shop bays. <strong><em> Jimbo might not be in there but if he wasn’t at least someone could tell him where to find him and where they wanted the car. </em></strong> [/i]&nbsp; Eddie walked through a solid steel door which closed behind him with a BANG! <br><br><strong>“Hello?!"</strong>, he yelled through the shop, <strong>“Hello?! Any one home? I’m looking for Jimbo. Hello?!……”</strong>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rhoswen</strong> on <strong>27-07-2010, 07:29:53</strong>
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				<span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Lasair Rowen</strong></span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">The stampeding students of Wagner Hall were not all completely mad; those that were in labs that morning had more since not to act out of context, well some anyway. Walking the halls here in this segment was less chaotic and more structured. Students filed out the laboratories and down the halls toward emergency exits that were generally for such emergencies. Other students opted to stay behind and continue listening to the news updates when and if they would continue after the incident last aired with the televised news cast out at the site.&nbsp; &nbsp;</span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"><strong><em>“Professor Kratz and Professor Rowen, wait please!”</em></strong> came the serious voice of Professor Borden. A stout, pot bellied man who combed over his remaining head of dark hair to the left temple hoping by days end it would remain their through wishing. His dark brown eyes danced, having mentally patted himself on the back for catching up to the two sprinters who looked to be trying to get away. </span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">Out of breath he was slightly huffing and puffing by the time he caught their attention running behind them, he finally caught up once they heard him and stopped. Borden pulled a white handkerchief from his lab coat, mopping his brow, heaving a little unable to speak but in short sentences, <strong><em>“Well I am guessing…the students over in the lecture hall…went crazy, judging by the way you look James. Some of the other professors, fled as you two through here, while others have yet to be accounted. Here’s hoping that they are hunker down in their classrooms or somewhere safe. We have had a few mishaps over here ourselves; hence the smell of sulfur and the smoke of a very recent fire. The horror of what is going on is spreading like wild fire through the town. I had my radio stolen a few minutes ago as students moved to leave my class, as fast as they could.”</em></strong> He took a breath in and placed his hand to his head checking his hair. </span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"><em><strong>“We tried to calm them down, but it was to no avail. Many teachers gave up and left the building to go home, leaving the students to do as they liked. I know that these students are adults, some semi, but this is not right.”</strong></em> His words fell upon Lasair like bricks as she listened.<em><strong> “What do you mean Professor?”</strong></em> James asked. <em><strong>“Come with me to my lab. I just returned with another radio, but haven’t been able to get a good reception yet. One of my students who is going to remain on campus, is trying to see if it’s the radio, or if it’s a local black out. We lost the news team some time ago.” </strong></em></span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">Lasair felt a pit forming in her stomach as she followed the Professor and James was right beside her, looking as concerned. The noise outside the lab’s window, was unbelievable, as students filed outside like doped up hot heads; high on drugs. Pandemonium was everywhere from those fleeing on foot, to those that were trying to calm their friends down who were trampled in the mass hysteria. A heavy sigh came from Rowen as she stood there watching this scene. The classroom was not empty, five other students watched with them out the windows. “Yes as you can see sheer craziness out there. Before the announcements were even done, students were already leaving filing down the halls throwing offlab coats everywhere. i heard some say they had to get to Rockfor high School having family members there. Others soon followed jumping up trampling others to get out the to the parking lots.” He said this as if he were at a grave sight solemnly speaking to the departed while looking out the window with them. “Us too, Borden, us too.” James replied as if to implied that this same event must have played out all over the campus. They all watched as those who managed to get to their cars, started honking their horns, and cursing at those who dared to block them in. </span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">It was like watching a cartoon flick, seeing frantic students banging their cars against other parked cars repeatedly, until they themselves were free to move. These were once beautiful cars, that now looked like crumbled wrecks; speeding off down the road, burning rubber to get to the other side of town. Lasair turned to face the mildly frightened Professor to ask him one thing, <strong><em>“Professor, I live only 10 minutes away by car. Please tell me the staff parking lot is not like this?”</em></strong> It might have been how her voice sounded, that made his eyes grow wider she thought. On the other hand, perhaps it was how she unknowingly gripped hold of his lapels and began choking him about the neck as she spoke; that made his voice go high and squeaky. Whatever it was she snapped out of this hypnotic state, once James grabbed her wrist to try and pry Borden free of her iron grip.&nbsp; </span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">“Oh, I’m so sorry Professor I didn’t …mean to. I didn’t even know I was doing it.” She practically whispered this under her breath, still looking at him for an answer to that very real question. Fixing himself, understood her actions and coughed a few times. <em><strong>“You must not know your own strength Professor Rowen; nevertheless, understandable. I do not know about the staff parking lot, I do not drive.”</strong></em> James nodded. However, he too couldn’t believe how much of an effort it took to get Lasair to let go. Looking at her, he saw her expressionless face. He knew her long enough to know when she felt helpless, she displayed no real emotion. “<em><strong>Are you going to be ok Lasair?” </strong></em>James knew it was one of the dumbest questions to ask anyone in this state of mind, and hoped she wouldn’t snap at him.&nbsp; </span><br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">Still staring outside at the chaos there was to see, saw cars pouring into the surrounding neighborhoods as well. That only confirmed her fears to get out while she can. Lasair’s materialistic self, wasn’t leaving her car to walk home, even if she had to live in it during the state of emergency; she would. In the trunk, she had a large bag packed with emergency supplies, such as food, water, a few changes of clothing, and a heavy-duty fire resistant security box. In the box was money, lots of it for that rainy spur of the moment thing, or that needed vacation. It was in a black nylon drawstring close bag. She had marked the metal box as being a culture of live bacterium. What idiot would risk opening it, knowing who she was? Still she had to get a grip and wait this out as long as she could, or until she could safely get to her car. </span><br>&nbsp;<br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"><em><strong>"I'm fine James. don't start treating me like a helpless woman. I'm fine, I just want to get home."</strong></em> She straightened herself up and walked over to a chair to sit. The other kids in the classroom eyed her from time to time. She hadn't that much room in her car for five passengers. She really shouldn't have mentioned leaving, as if being at the college was the wrong place to be right now; in front of the students. She kicked herself mentally. To change the atmosphere, spoke up to Borden, <em><strong>"I guess all those years at the firing range paid off for something; my wrist are stronger."</strong></em> She nodded looking down at them. </span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Urbanzorro</strong> on <strong>27-07-2010, 18:53:29</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<br>The Chief looked back at Sarah his face a mask of nerves, anger, and regret. He didn't say anything, to her all he did was shake his head. Even as he did this several of the emergency vehicles were packing up and preparing to leave the area. The police officers who had previously been their to escort them were already gone. "We've got a state of emergency on our hands" the chief told her and the other firefighters who had previously been in the building and not present for what ever briefing he'd just finished giving the others. "The riots are raging out of hand and the boys in blue aren't able to even slow the mobs down. I've been in contact with the mayor and the chief of police. The decision has been made to abandon all areas of Rockford that are South of City hall and West of the Circular River. That includes the fire station, we'll be setting up provisional command center in city hall along with the police department in order to be able to respond with better co-ordination to any situations that arise." His tone of voice as all business as he said this, it was obvious that these decisions had been hard on him but he intended to follow through with them. "I know we've already lost some good people...and we will probably lose more before the end of the day...but our city and it's people need us now and we have a duty to do. So get to your vehicles and move out, dispatch will inform you of your assignments!"<br><br><hr><br>With the exception of the RCN station, Rockford's civilian radio broadcasters were going crazy to say the least. Most of them had no real link to information and as such reports varied. Some stations stated that the rioters were eating their victims while others that they were armed with Ak-47's. These reports continued until several minutes after the emergency siren wailed its warning. The decision to use the city's emergency broadcast system had finally been made. Anyone watching a TV or listening to a radio in Rockford was greeted by the same message, from Mayor James Marcus (http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100704212429/residentevil/images/0/08/JamesMarcusConcept.png), Marcus had been a politician for many years, and was very skilled at presenting just the image he wanted to. Right now he wanted to project a feeling of calm that he didn't really have. "After a moment of waiting to make sure that every station was connected. He then began to read his hastily prepared speech.&nbsp; "My fellow citizens it grieves me to have to address you all under these circumstances. As I'm sure you all know our fair city is currently beset by rather large riots. In response to this fact, and to the violent nature of the rioters behavior I have decided to declare a state of emergency throughout the city.&nbsp; As of this moment all police, fire, and other civil service personnel are required to report for duty. I would like to ask that all citizens help to maintain order and bring this situation to a close by following these instructions.&nbsp; If there is no rioting in your area please remain in your house, lock your doors and windows, and pay close attention to reputable news sources. If there is activity in your area please vacate your are immediately . Do not attempt to protect private property or other wise 'hold out.' If you choose to stay in the effected areas we cannot guarantee your safety. Temporary aid stations are being erected at he following areas. Rockford General Hospital,The Rockford Police Station, and the area of Mission street from the corner of Good St to the corner of Ivy street, these areas are to be considered safe havens for those forced to evacuate from other areas of the city. If you are majorly injured we request that you proceed to Rockford General Hospital, if you are uninjured or only have minor injuries please proceed to Mission street, if you are unable to reach either of these areas please make your way to the Rockford Police Station. Please do not approach the police station unless it is your only option. The last thing needed at this time is a swamping of the police force....I am confidant that this situation will be resolved soon. That is all, thank you for your time." <br><br>At the end of his speech the emergency broadcast system cut out, returning each station back to its broadcasters. <br><br><hr><br>As soon as the broadcast had finished one of the students in the class room, a large roughly 20 years of age stood up. His eyes were wide with fear, but his body language suggested that he was doing his best to keep a grip on himself. He looked over at Lasair, his face set in a look of determination. "I'm sorry professor" he said "and if this were any other time I wouldn't be so rude. But given the circumstances I'm going to have to ask that you give me and my friends a ride to the shelters on Mission Street.....As a matter of fact....I'm going to have to insist" As he said this one of the other students, a young woman who was most likely the boy's significant other. Stood up as well "Tom's right" she said "You're our teachers and we need your help." The other three students remained seated but it was not hard to see them all tensing up as well. The precipice had been reached as the group of students were given a chance at 'safety' that to them seemed easily reachable......without even talking to one another they seemed to sense that this was quickly spiraling into an 'us vs them' situation. <br><br><hr><br>Both of the southernmost bridges across the Circular River were clogged with people and cars waiting their turn to get across the river. At the bridge where coach Winters and his students found themselves attempting to cross, two police cars had parked at the other end and the officers had already finished constructing a barricade on the west side of the bridge, they were directing citizens vehicles through the gap in the center of the barricade designed to allow passage when opened. Each officer was wearing full body armor and carrying shot guns. Their orders were quick and firm, it was obvious that anyone who appeared to be resisting would not be dealt with lightly. The cars were let through one by one, as each was quickly checked by what appeared to be a doctor....One officer was standing on top of his patrol car with a megaphone. <strong>"The bridge will be closed soon!"</strong> he called out <strong>"We ask that any remaining vehicular traffic proceed north along River Avenue to either the Mission Street shelters or the Hospital, River Avenue has been set aside for civilian traffic, all lanes on River Avenue are now Northbound ones. Thank you for your co-operation"</strong> As soon as he finished saying this the police began to wave away cars, directing them to turn north rather than stop at the barricade. Coach Winters' car was one of those who was unable to cross before the barricade was closed. <br><br><hr><br>As Sue drove along Darios Street she and those in her care were witness to an unusual sight. Both Ennerdale and Washington Streets, the only opportunities to turn left onto Warren from Darios, were clogged with emergency vehicles. It was not a massive traffic jam, but an ordered operation, city fire officials, along with what appeared to be meter maids were busy loading up every vehicle with supplies from the fire station. It was as if the entire building was being stripped of anything that might be useful. Fire trucks, ambulances, and support trucks would pull into one end of the station only to leave the other a few minutes later. Their sirens blaring as they whizzed down the street to where ever their destinations might be. <br><br><hr><br>The door's loud bang echoed throughout Jimbo's shop. A moment later what sounded like a gurgling moan could be heard from deeper in the shop. Most of the lights were off, Jimbo had always been a cheep skate and usually had his workers working in less than optimal lighting to save money on the bill. Footsteps could be heard approaching Eddie's position. And again the soft gurgling moan. The acoustics of the room making it seem as if the steps were coming from all around slowly growing louder....louder....until suddenly Jimbo (http://www.hernimag.cz/data/2009-05_clanek-289/doom-3-b.jpg) stepped into the light. His eyes vacant and his arms reaching forward for Eddie as he lunged forward his movements stiff and uncoordinated a loud moan issuing from his mouth as he moved to attack Eddie. <br><br><hr><br>The buses had stopped running leaving many students stuck at the college. Those with no dorm room to go to and no way off campus were herded into the school's library where several large televisions had been set up to keep the students appraised of the situation. At the mayor's announcement the murmur of conversation rose up from the soft whispers of young men and women who's minds still told them to be quite and calm in the library to the harsh din of unsure people discussing their options with one another. Some people began to make their way to the doors while others stood and talked. At least in the library the panic had been quelled. One student bumped right into Cal "ohh shit" he said as he nearly ran Cal over "I'm sorry about that man...can you believe all this?" he asked "And to think that before now my biggest worry was the fact that I'd fallen asleep in the library and missed a bio test." he shook his head "I'm Paul &nbsp;(http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs46/f/2009/177/9/b/Alex_Mercer_by_yamiyugi.jpg)by the way" his hand was held out to shake Cal's "What about you?" <br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rhoswen</strong> on <strong>29-07-2010, 05:43:16</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"><strong>Lasair Rowen</strong></span><br>&nbsp;<br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">Lasair snapped out of her minor daze, once she realized someone was talking to her. She slowly rose up out her seat. “Do you think yourself man enough to try and take my car? DO YOU! Then brother you had better be very ready for me to fight back to stop you. I’m as desperate as you think you are right now. I have no issue about hitting you so help me…I’ll!&nbsp; How dare you think I have to do anything, for anybody?” James stepped between her and the student. He saw how narrow Lasair’ eyes had gotten, and like Professor Borden, knew nothing good could come of it. “Now wait you two! Sit down, both of you!” James felt like a target between them; that either one of them might take a swing at him. But he had to defuse the situation quickly. </span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"> </span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">“Young man look around you, there are five students in this classroom and three teachers. A car will hold at max if desperate five people at best. So unless you were voted as the spokesman for all the students in here, to decide who stays and who goes. Might I suggest that you had better take a seat, over there with your girlfriend. As far as I know, their only requesting those that are in the effected areas of the rioting to leave the areas immediately for the designated shelters. Here we are not at present effected by the rioting.” </span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"> </span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">“Stop it James, I’ll speak for myself, thank you for opening my eyes. Professor Borden, please give these students my staff assigned suite here on campus. It’s large enough to take all five of them. it will be a little cramped but at least you will have a place to stay during all this. It’s the least I can do on such short notice. I’m sorry but I am not driving anyone to Mission Street. I will however be heading to my house.”</span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"> </span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">Not afraid or uncertain anymore woke up from her private hell. Now with the fire to fight back under her, she was heading out with her head clearer. She wasn’t sure what was going on in town and only knew, things were out of control by the reports. Each time she got a chance to hear what might be going on, just couldn’t wrap her head around what she heard to really believe it could be what was being said. Looking at the students made her realize she had to think about others and not just about herself right now.</span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"> </span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"> Borden answered her, “I suppose during a state of emergency, the students already having your permission, to take your suite, is acceptable. I’ll keep an eye on them and them safe. It is quite a distance to get to Mission Street from here walking or driving. I should think many folks are heading to these shelters from the south and west sides of town where all this began.” </span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"> </span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">Nodding her head to his wisdom, Lasair gave a half smile. “See, all is well and if you feel that staying here becomes hazardous, make your way to this address…” She walked to the science station and pulled a scratch pad and pen from it, ripping the large sheet from the book. Folding the paper in quarters wrote her address on all four and carefully tore the segments a part. She walked over to the young couple who demanded she take them to Mission Street and handed them one square. She then handed the remaining squares out to the other three, who all now had her private address and numbers. “Ok, my address, cell, and house phone are now in each of your hands. If you must evacuate the College, call or try to make it to me. Please get to Mission Street if all hell is at my front door, because that is where I’ll probably be trying to get to as well if the rioters make it to my residential area.” </span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"> </span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">She took a deep breath hoping these five students, who were understandably scared, would be calmer having her personal address and phone numbers. They also had a secured place to stay in on campus now. What else could they have done to help them feel any safer? She had to assume if forced to leave the campus, to get to her, they might show up in numbers at her house. “Ok, now let's get this straight, my house may be large but with me, Professor Kratz, Professor Borden, who’ll be with you I’m sure and the five of you; it will be pushing it to its limit. So if you must save others, it can only hold another five; after that its everyman for himself.” She eyes them making certain she did all she could to let them know they weren’t being abandoned.&nbsp; She clutched her arms and tried to pretend this was not happening and take back some of her sanity. </span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"> </span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">There were other things she wanted to know, like what was going on in the other half of town and was she hearing the reports say what they have been. But their was one thing she questioned and that came from her own friend. Walking back to stand near James moved next to him as close as she could be. “I’m a little curious James. Instead of trying to tag along with me, as a married man, you should be climbing the walls to get back to your wife and child. Not asking to tough it out with me at my place.” She didn't look at him but stared out the window with him.</span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font"> </span><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">“Ok James spill the beans…no time like now. Its not like we have anywhere to rush off too until this either clears up or we bust out of here.” She gestured toward the chaos outside the windows and folded her arms in front of her. “Why <span class="bbc_u">are</span> you staying at the Hotel Royal? Where are Heather and Emily?” Lasair questioned this, because James and Heather are dear friends of hers. Heather would usually call to tell her she was going out of town and to keep an eye on James for her. Always Emily who is 6, would insist on saying over the phone good bye to her God Mother the night before a trip. He looked to have turned a sickly shade of gray hearing the question. She watched him go blank searching for the right words to say to her; she assumed. </span>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>rick957</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 03:19:52</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/b/b5/Cal_Snyder_Avatar.jpg)</div><strong>CAL SNYDER<br><em>Griffin Memorial Library<br>Rockford City College</em></strong><br><br>After more than a few near-accidents like the one in Boyd Hall earlier, RCC's Assistant Dean, Nicole Ashworth, had devised a novel solution to the problem of crowd control on the campus:&nbsp; stick them in the library.&nbsp; <br><br>Gazing down from his staircase perch at all the stranded students sitting on the carpeted floors, Cal marveled at the uncanny effectiveness of her idea.&nbsp; On one hand, the big-screen TVs drew people into the building, satisfying their need for up-to-the-minute news about the freakish developments around town; on the other hand, the choice of venue fostered calmness and kept the irrepressible chatter at a tolerable volume level.&nbsp; <br><br>At least, until the mayor's less-than-comforting update.&nbsp; His slightly-disarrayed hair and the circles under his eyes belied the pacifying tone he sought to convey, and the content of his statement proved even less encouraging than his grave appearance.&nbsp; As soon as Haley Alls's flustered visage returned to the screens, clusters of students throughout the central library atrium got to their feet, and a fresh wave of conversation threatened to drown out the sound of the broadcast.<br><br>Cal wasn't prone to rash decision-making, but the news of an emergency shelter being established nearby immediately determined his course of action.&nbsp; Throughout the hour he'd spent in the library, the prickles down his back that he'd felt all morning gave way to an aching feeling of rigidity from the middle of his back up through his entire neck and shoulders.&nbsp; He had long assumed that he had inherited a bit of his grandmother's occasional hypochondria, but that belief failed to lessen his nervous symptoms at a time like this.&nbsp; The real tightening in his back had started after Cynthia Cartwright had fixed his cell phone and he had tried to reach his grandparents.&nbsp; <br><br>Shortly after he'd arrived on campus that morning, he had realized from the ubiquitous phone usage around him that the intra-city network was still functioning, contrary to his previous assumption.&nbsp; It turned out that his cell was suffering from some kind of SIM-card malfunction -- at least that was Cynthia's diagnosis, based on her two summers of part-time work in the cell phones-and-accessories department at Best Buy.&nbsp; (Cal's own technological facility did not extend to cell phones due to his disdain for the devices, which he considered an omnipresent source of annoyance more than anything else.)&nbsp; Cynthia managed to return his phone to working condition in a couple minutes, although he lost all his stored numbers and text messages.&nbsp; Once again, however, the damn thing just brought him more aggravation instead of a sense of relief.<br><br>He had reached his Aunt Ginny once that morning using a borrowed phone, and she had assured him that their street was still quiet, except for a few seemingly-drunk vagrants staggering through.&nbsp; He'd tried her again immediately once his own cell was working again but kept ending up with her voicemail, and she hadn't responded to his numerous messages.&nbsp; Meanwhile, he called the pharmacy and learned from a co-worker that Uncle John had clocked out early from his shift, no doubt to check on Ginny himself.<br><br>That had been the last news he'd gathered before the anxious hour he'd spent in the library, trying his Aunt's cell every five minutes or so, while trying to comprehend the ridiculous talk from the television.&nbsp; Terms from pop culture like "zombie" and "walking dead" were being bandied about among the populace, but the negative connotations (not to mention sheer absurdity) of such labels left reporters scrambling for ways to characterize the bizarre ailments of the rioters.&nbsp; The latest try from RCN was "Psycho-Cataleptic Wasting Syndrome," an unwieldy suggestion from some talking-head neurologist who was brought into the studios for expert commentary.&nbsp; The pseudo-scientific phrase didn't help to dispel Cal's nightmare visions of movie Deadites (http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=deadites) feasting on his grandmother's corpse.<br><br>The slim chance that Ginny might make her way to the Mission Street aid station meant that Cal was headed there too, along with scores of other students from the south-west and south-central residential areas.&nbsp; Fully two-thirds of those gathered at the library prepared for a mass exodus on foot, in hopes of reuniting with fleeing relatives or friends.&nbsp; Many were ready to join the caravan just to see what was happening off-campus for themselves.<br><br><div class="quoteheader"><div class="topslice_quote">Quote</div></div><blockquote class="bbc_standard_quote">One student bumped right into Cal "ohh shit" he said as he nearly ran Cal over "I'm sorry about that man...can you believe all this?" he asked "And to think that before now my biggest worry was the fact that I'd fallen asleep in the library and missed a bio test." he shook his head "I'm Paul &nbsp;(http://fc02.deviantart.net/fs46/f/2009/177/9/b/Alex_Mercer_by_yamiyugi.jpg)by the way" his hand was held out to shake Cal's "What about you?"</blockquote><div class="quotefooter"><div class="botslice_quote"></div></div><br>Just like in the days after 9-11, one of the few upsides to the mounting catastrophe was the increased openness and familiarity among strangers, united by their sense of shared misfortune and common purpose.&nbsp; As Cal stood to depart from his spot on the stairs, he collided clumsily with an unusually-friendly fellow he'd never seen before.&nbsp; He assumed Paul was just another stranded Rockford resident, facing the same predicament as Cal.<br><br><strong>"Snyder.&nbsp; I mean, um, Cal -- call me Cal.&nbsp; Nice to meet you.&nbsp; Yeah, no kidding, this is some crazy shit.&nbsp; Listen, I'm on my way out, gotta go look for my folks -- you heading out too?”</strong> he inquired, with terse politeness.&nbsp; He wasn’t averse to the idea of having someone to talk to, considering all his close friends were either dorm dwellers or residents of unmolested parts of the city.&nbsp; <br><br>Then again, there was something about this guy that made Cal feel a bit wary, right off the bat.&nbsp; Maybe it was the way he had the hoodie on his sweatshirt pulled down, casting his facial features in shadow, even though they were still indoors.&nbsp; Cal told himself he was just being paranoid, though -- another symptom of his frazzled nerves -- so he basically invited Paul to join him for the trek to Mission Street.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>30-07-2010, 17:40:24</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				SUSAN BAILEY<br><br>There was not much traffic on Darios. I think we were too close to the mess for people to be able to get to their cars and get away, mostly I guessed they were trying to get away on foot. When we reached Ennerdale though it was a different story; there was a queue of cars waiting at the intersection while a cop held us up and fire trucks and rescue trucks and a dozen other sorts of truck - mostly painted red we could see further down North Darios massed outside the firehouse. Men seemed to be running into the building, grabbing gear and stowing it in the trucks before driving off north.<br><br>"What are they doing?" Katie asked from the back seat.<br><br><strong>"Moving house I think,"</strong> I said.<br><br>"Yeah," Todd added ruminatively, "They're running away. Look." He pointed west up Ennerdale and there was fighting going on. Lots of it. A few cops were around and a fire fighter or two but mostly the people with the fighting spirit seemed to be Rockford High students. Armed with baseball bats, metal table legs, chairs, various clubs and sticks they were swinging away at the rioters... no... the Dead People. They were dead. Zombies. As Todd had said, like in comics. One student had picked up a police shotgun and was blasting heads off at point blank range until he ran out of ammo and began using it as a club.<br><br>I saw some kids working as teams. It definitely looked like 'go for the head' idea had caught on from the movies and applied here. The #1 kid would swing a bat or something which the zombie would grab and try to wrestle away from him and while his arms were busy the #2 guy would <em>thwack!</em> his bat down on the zombies head. It seemed to be working. Trust high school kids to have a better idea of how to tackle zombies than the cops.<br><br>The three of us sat and watched in shocked and awed fascination as the battle went on, though a lot of people were just plain running as fast as they could and the defensive line looked awful thin.<br><br>"Hey... guys... we can't stay here..." It was Katie and she sounded nervous. "Syeda's out cold. I think it's loss of blood or something. Guys? Todd?"<br><br>Todd seemed to jerk out of his daze. "Yeah. Yeah, right. Can you get through here Su?"<br><br><strong>"This cop won't let us through! There's a big stack of traffic waiting to cross the bridge, and all that stuff round the fire house."</strong><br><br>"We need to move Su, like... now."<br><br><strong>"I know! But I can't! I'm boxed in!"</strong><br><br>"Can you back up? Go past them?"<br><br><strong>"On the wrong side of the road? I can't do that! The police!"</strong><br><br>"The cops are freakin' busy Bales! Just fuckin' drive! Those dead <em>things</em> are less than fifty yards away!"<br><br><strong>"I'm not bloody Jason Bourne you know!"</strong><br><br>Suddenly a red Pontiac went by on our left, cutting down the wrong side of the road. A blue Ford van followed it. Immediately at the intersection the cop stepped out, his hand up. The Pontiac driver gunned his engine and swerved round the cop and with a squeal of tyres shot away up Darios North. The Blue van skidded to a stop in front of the cop. A white Chevy that was following the van slammed into the back of it, the van bounced forwards and hit the cop who went down, rolling on the ground.<br><br><strong>"Oh crap! He hit him! Oh no!"</strong><br><br>"The sidewalk Bales. The Goddam sidewalk or we'll be trapped here!"<br><br>"Please!" Katie whined, "Just go! Go!" She sounded close to panic.<br><br>I turned in my seat, laying my right arm along the back of Todd's seat. A white pickup was behind me but a couple of yards back. I selected reverse, backed up until I nearly hit him - he honked loudly and then I spun the wheel right, selected first and pulled around the car in front of me. There was a gap between two parked cars on my right and slewing the wheel this way and that the Mustang bumped up onto the kerb and slid. There was a horrible scrape of rear fender on brick walling and then I straightened out and floored it. The sidewalk was mercifully empty and in seconds we reached Ennerdale only to see a solid queue of traffic standing still and heading east to River Bridge.<br><br>I didn't even think. I roared across Ennerdale and swung hard right, thumping up onto the sidewalk on the north side of the street and wrestling the powerful car's tendency to prefer to surge in a straight line. I went east until we got to Mackinnon Avenue which cut off north-east at an angle, though here there were people on the sidewalk, mostly runners from further west on Ennerdale and I leaned on the horn to get them out the way. They did, diving to the side and yelling abuse.<br><br>I grinned. This was fun! We reached Mackinnon without killing anyone. There was a narrow strip of public park on the west side of Mackinnon and to the east a thin residential block before the grassy strip of park and River Walk. I swung into Mackinnon and barrelled down the road, leaving the choked queue or cars trying to get over the river.<br><br>I applied power, Steve fishtailed again and with more thumps and squealing Goodyears we left the sidewalk and accelerated down the road. I passed a couple of slower cars as the needle crept up - 40... 50... 60... 65...<br><br>"Fuck yeah!" Todd was grinning too, "This is like awesome! Grand Theft fucking Auto!"<br><br>I laughed, though it was mostly a laugh to hide my fear. At the north end of Mackinnon I braked and slid impressively, gave a tweak of handbrake as I let off the brake and applied power into the turn, the rear end sliding round as I counter-steered and then corrected when the rear began to want to go ahead of the front. Fortunately a Mustang has a lot of weight at the front which helps balance the rear wheel drive and with another satisfying wiggle of the rear end we went towards River Avenue. There is a complex junction here where Meahe Street goes east-west and River Avenue north-south and Mackinnon cuts in from the south-west. I shot across to go up River Avenue but a whole ton of cars were coming up River Avenue from the bridge further south. I had to brake hard and nearly wrapped us all around a tree but I got things under control and I slid into the column of slower moving traffic just behind a big beefy Ford pickup with several kids in the back.<br><br>"Hey, that's Cal Winslow! Yeah, Cal!" Todd shouted and stuck his arm and head out the window. The guys and a couple of girls in the back of the pickup didn't hear him so he reached over and blipped the horn. Now they all looked round and Cal did too. He saw us and Todd waved again. I flashed my lights. I didn't know them but it was good to see a bunch of people got out of the school okay.<br><br>"Where ya goin'?" Todd yelled, "We're making for the hospital. Got an injured girl here!"
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Writersblockade</strong> on <strong>31-07-2010, 06:43:18</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<em><strong>Calvin Winslow</strong></em><br><br>Their world seemed to now be broken down to different levels of hell. One kid in the back had managed to tune into a radio station on their mp3 player. He was doing his best to keep the rest of us updated about what we couldn’t see. There was talk of zombies now, instead of rioters. Sadly, that made a lot of sense to Calvin. Why else would a bunch of people from town suddenly want people burgers? <br><br>He looked down at the girl as she laid her head on his lap. He’d been absently stroking her hair while she cried, and hadn’t really noticed that she fell asleep. She was the one he saved, which gave him a small measure of pride in this truly screwed situation. He thought she was a sophomore. The faces all seem to run into another after a while, and he never gave it another thought. A ragged pothole in the road caused the truck to jump, which then awoke the girl. Embarrassed, she muttered an awkward apology and sat up. <em>”None needed”</em> replied Cal, trying to give her a brotherly nudge to help.<br><br>Noticing the slower flow of traffic, Cal chanced standing in the back of the truck to have a look. The line was ridiculous. People were leaning on their horns like there was no tomorrow, which ironically enough would be true of some of them. Calvin shouted over at a car beside the truck as its horn blared <em>“Hey! We’re all trying to get the hell outta here. Horns ain’t gonna make the line move faster!</em> The man looked at him as he leaned on the horn again, which made Calvin’s blood pressure shoot for the stars. Calvin made a step to walk over to the car, before he felt again the weight of the day on his shoulders. <br><br>Something about way the kid went from anger to dejection got to the other driver. He saw the letterman’s jacket he had on for Rockford High and noticed all the other kids in the back of the truck. Some were battered, and all looked like they already had one good cry today. The man then looked at the sweaty hand holding the .38 revolver and slowly placed it back in the glove compartment. With a spit out the window, he convinced himself he could have used it if he wanted to, but decided to take it easy on the boy.<br><br>It was the policeman’s megaphone that pulled Calvin out of his sudden bout of loathing. The words were getting through and tripping enough alarms to set his own brain ablaze <em>”shit…shit…SHIT! Are you kidding me?! </em>. His words fell into the renewed chorus of horns and disgruntled shouts as cars were turned away from the bridge that looked so promisingly safe. Amongst those horns, was one directly behind him. He was keyed up now, and turned to take a good look at the other car. The words were a little lost, but he was sure someone had called his name. He then saw a head poke out of the car and wave at him. Naturally, Cal waved back. The guy looked familiar, but then most people were like that in high school. He heard the question, and frowned at the mention of the injured girl. Tapping the top of the truck, Calvin told the coach he was going to take a look. He was able to grab a first aid kit, and wanted to see if that would help. <br><br>Calvin just jumped off the slow moving vehicle. Traffic wasn’t do much, so he landed smoothly enough before walking over to the mustang. He went to Todd’s side of the car first, since he seemed to be the one who knew him. <em>“Hey…I know your face, and you obviously know me, so we’ll do this the easy way”</em>. He held his hand out to Todd and grinned <em>”Hi, my name is Calvin, what’s yours?”</em> Even amidst the death and destruction before them, Calvin couldn’t help but clown around. The police had sobered him up a little, and for now he seemed like his old confident self again. After the introductions were made, Calvin leaned his shoulder down a little <em>”Listen. I don’t know how long it’s gonna take for you guys to get to the hospital, but I do have a first aid kit on me…maybe that can help your friend?</em>. Calvin walked beside the car easily, since the overall traffic seemed to be at a slower-than-crawl level.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Michael Corvus</strong> on <strong>01-08-2010, 18:44:02</strong>
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				<strong>Michael Winters</strong><br><br><div class="floatleft">(http://i133.photobucket.com/albums/q61/mrgerty/Characters/MichaelWinters-1.jpg)</div> Michael hadn’t driven long on the bridge when he noticed the long string of traffic with glaring break lights ahead of him. <strong>”Fuck…”</strong> he muttered in subdued exasperation. Cars and trucks of all types were packed in up ahead and some people were even abandoning their vehicles and running across the bridge towards the police barricade ahead, families running with their children in their arms and their few meager belongings in tow. Michael slowed to a near stop, not wanting to get boxed in from the front and the back. He decided to leave himself just a little wiggle room in front of him… just in case.<br><br>Just then, he spotted a police officer standing on top of a squad car up a head. He was still a good ways off from the roadblock, which he noticed was now being closed off by other officers. The officer on top of the squad car began speaking into a bullhorn.<br><br>"The bridge will be closed soon!" he called out "We ask that any remaining vehicular traffic proceed north along River Avenue to either the Mission Street shelters or the Hospital, River Avenue has been set aside for civilian traffic, all lanes on River Avenue are now Northbound ones. Thank you for your co-operation"<br><br>“What are we gonna do, Coach? What are we gonna do?” Travis asked with a strained voice, realizing the they were stuck here. He was trying to remain calm but his adrenalin was pumping freely and despite his size, strength and reputation as one of the meanest and toughest kids in the region, this wasn’t a football game. The days unfortunate events multiplied by the complete and utter chaos that followed strained Travis beyond anything he could have imagined and he found himself leaning heavily towards the “flight” aspect of the <em>fight or flight syndrome</em> often induced by the introduction of adrenalin into the system. Michael recognized that Travis was beginning to lose it and he reacted necessarily. <br><br>Michael braked, bringing the slowly creeping large off-road vehicle to a stop. Reaching across the trucks cabin, he grabbed Travis by the large white “R” stitched to the lapel of his blue and white Rockford Rams varsity jacket and yanked him halfway across the cabin towards him. Michael glared coldly at Travis as he snapped at him, his face stained with spatters of blood spray where his bat had sunken the skull of the rioter earlier.<br><br><strong>”Damnit, Travis! Get a hold of yourself! Suck it up! You’re a <em>SENIOR</em> for Christ’s sake! Now man up, son! I need your help getting these kids to safety, I can’t do it by myself! Can I count you, Travis?”</strong> As the team’s defensive captain, Travis had developed a sense of leadership and responsibility, and it was to these senses that Michael appealed, hoping to snap Travis out of his feeling of hopelessness and despair.<br><br>Travis blinked rapidly a few times and his expression grew more serious and determined. He nodded his head assertively, “Yes sir, Coach Winters!” <strong>”Good! That’s what I wanna hear, son! Now take this,”</strong> Michael handed Travis the ball bat that lay in his lap, <strong>”and if you see one of them fuckers getting close these kids or even this truck, you knock that son of bitch’s head clean off, do you hear me?”</strong> He had a scary, serious expression on his face and his voice was stern and harsh. “Yes Coach. I got it. Don’t worry. I won’t let them get close to the truck coach. I promise.” Travis had that <em>kick ass and take names</em> look about him again, that same look he always had during a game that made him just that much more intimidating. Michael reached up gave Travis a couple of good pats on the cheek with a proud look. <strong>”I know you won’t Travis. I know you won’t.”</strong><br><br>Michael turned around and looked out the rear sliding window shouting to the kids behind him. <strong>”Everyone hang on to something. They’ve closed the bridge ahead. I’ve gotta turn around before we get stuck here. Hang on tight everyone!”</strong> “Turn around? Are you fucking crazy?! I’m not going back there! I’m getting outt here!” A few of the kids agreed and they quickly scrambled out of the back of the truck.” <strong>”No! Wait! There’s a safe zone farther north up the river! I’m taking us there! Please, get back in the truck!”</strong> he called after them but most of them had already ran past him and would not be stopped. Travis, Calvin, the girl that Calvin had helped into the truck and two others were all that remained with the truck. He sighed and shook his head. <strong>”God DAMMIT!”</strong> he cursed softly. “It’s not your fault Coach. You tried. You did the best you could to help them. They’re on their own now. But you still have us here with you.” Travis added softly. <strong>”You’re right Travis. I have to keep my mind on the here and now. No sense in stressing over a bad play last quarter, right?”</strong> Michael referred to&nbsp; one of his morsels of wisdom he used during games to get a players head back in the game after he’d made a serious blunder. “Right Coach,” replied Travis. <br><br>He nodded and then checked his mirrors and noticed that the car behind him was abandoned already, the young family running past them just moments before in a mad dash to make it across the bridge and away from the hellish scene which pressed in behind them. <strong>”Okay, you kids get up here against the cabin and away fro the tailgate. Hang on real tight… it’s gonna get a bit bumpy.”</strong> He eased on the accelerator, slowly backing into the car behind him. Easing on the accelerator a little more, the big rear tires bit into the car’s front bumper and then slowly began to climb up an over the hood of the silver dodge intrepid. He cut the wheel hard and continued to roll backwards. His rear tire slowly dropped of the side of the hood just as his front tire began to climb up and over. He kept turning and backing until he was nearly perpendicular with the flow of traffic. Stepping on the brake and depressing the clutch, he pushed the gearshift up into first gear and yelled back through the window again <strong>”Okay, we’re almost done here. Hang on just a bit more, going the other way now.”</strong> He slowly eased forward, cutting the wheel sharply to the left. His front tire slowly eased down as his rear tire climbed up and over once more. As the truck began to reverse it’s direction, the rear tire crunched into the windshield and sent into a myriad of tiny cracks before finally buckling under the truck’s hefty weight. The tire slowly dropped down off of the now ruined hood of the intrepid with a shudder and a bounce followed by an eruption of cheers from the back of the truck.<br><br>Michael gunned the engine and roared back down the bridge, hardly slowing as he tore into the turn northward and barreled down River Avenue like a bat out of hell… at least until he hit the line of traffic just past Meahe street where Mackinnon merges in from the southwest. He glanced about quickly, checking the surrounding area. It seemed clear to him, at least for now. <strong>”It’s okay. The … rioters haven’t gotten this far. We’re good. Let’s just relax and get to the safe zone.”</strong> Everyone seemed a little apprehensive, feeling more comfortable being on the move but they had no choice at the moment and resigned themselves to sit and wait.<br><br>They hadn’t been sitting there more than 2 minutes when he heard a tap on the roof of the truck’s cabin and glanced back through the rear window. Sliding the back window open he heard Calvin mention something about an injured girl in the car behind him. He checked his mirror and recognized the car behind him right away. <strong>”I’ll be right back. I just need to check on the car behind me. Stay here. I’m gonna go check on the kids in the back. Keep an eye on things here. No one gets behind this wheel but me, got it?”</strong> Michael opened the door and slid out of the seat to the road below. “Yes coach,” came the reply from Travis.<br><br>Michael opened the door and slid fro his seat, dropping the short distance to the road below. He left the door open just in case he needed to get back inside quickly. Walking to toward the rear of the truck, he stepped up on the rear tire looking into the truck bed at the kids inside. <strong>”Everyone okay back here?”</strong> They all nodded silently, aside from a few sniffles here and there. Then one of the kids piped up, pulling his ear bud from his ear. “Mr. Winters, they’re saying the rioters are actually not rioters but… zombies! That can’t be right, can it Mr. Winters? That’s gotta be a mistake, right? Zombies are real… right, Mr. Winters.” He didn’t say anything for a minute as his mind raced with this new information and to the brief conversation he had with his students earlier that morning. <strong>”I don’t know, son. Whatever they are though, we’re getting the hell out of here. They’re sending everyone to a safe place further north… which is where we’re going so you kids just sit tight okay? I’ll make sure you get there.”</strong><br><br>He hopped down from the tire and quickly jogged back to the car behind him, kneeling at the driver side door and glancing in quickly at all the occupants.<br><br><strong>”Susan.”</strong> he reached in and grabbed her arm gently, just above her elbow. <strong>”Are you okay? Calvin said someone was hurt?”</strong> He let her name slip, not even thinking that the two of them had never actually met. A quick glance told him that she wasn’t the one injured, and his attention returned back to Susan. He glanced up ahead of him quickly as he explained the situation ahead. <strong>”Listen, they’re sending everyone either to Mission street or the hospital.”</strong> He glanced Seyda one more, nodding to her matter-of-factly. <strong>”We need get her to the hospital ASAP, so I want you to follow my lead and stay with me. We’re find another way around and get her to the hospital. I’ll lead the way, okay?”</strong> <br><br>He glanced to Todd, being the only male in the car. <strong>”You have any way to defend yourselves?”</strong> Todd gripped the metal table leg and lifted it just a bit. Michael nodded and patted Susan’s arm before slipping his arm out of the window. <strong>”Good. Good. Alright, Calvin leave the first aid and get in the truck. We’re getting the hell out of here.”</strong> He glanced to the back seat to Katie and tried to look as calm as he could. <strong>”Sweetie, can you take that first aid kit and use the sterile alcohol pads to clean those wounds on her legs? There should be plenty of badges in there to cover them up too. If you can do that, that would be really great. We’ll have her to the hospital as soon as possible, okay hun?”</strong> He didn’t wait for Katie to respond. He looked to Susan again and patted her car as he reiterated his plan. <strong>”Just say close to me… and try to keep up.”</strong> He smiled and gave a playful wink in an attempt to lighten the serious mood. He knew her car could easily overtake his truck any day.<br><br>He stood up and walked briskly back to the truck and climbed up inside the cabin. He closed the door and glanced to Travis as he buckled his seat belt. <strong>”How you doing over there Champ?”</strong> he reached down and grabbed the gear shifter and put it into gear, cutting the wheel hard to the left and pulling off of River Ave, over the sidewalk and onto Wilson Circle. "I'm good, Coach." It was slow going here since the road was narrow and cars were wrecked at various locations all along the road. <br><br>He weaved his way through the wreckage and checked his mirror to check on Susan. Once he was satisfied she’d made it through the obstacle, he yelled back to the kids again. <strong>”Hang on everyone.”</strong> he gunned the engine once more and it roared with a terrible, monstrous rumble as the truck shot down Wilson Circle. He slowed as he neared Caldwell Street and smiled as he glanced behind him at Susan’s muscle car. <strong>”Hang on! Sharp turn!”</strong> came the short warning. He slammed the brake as he went into the turn, yanking the wheel the left and sending the truck skidding slightly sideways. Fortunately the road was relatively clear at the moment, still he narrowly avoided sideswiping a large dumpster, throwing the gear selector into a lower gear and turning back into the skid, gassing the engine once more. The tires squealed and spun a bit, then quickly found purchase, lurching the truck forward once more. He continued west along Caldwell with Susan following, until he reached the main road of Warren Street. <br><br>Warren Street was cluttered with traffic, wreckage, and people running everyone. They came out just opposite of City Hall with was swamped with reporters, police and frightened citizens. Michael knew this was not the place to be hanging around and he quickly turned northward, forced to drive up on the sidewalks since the roads were so cluttered. He carefully picked and weaved his way along the sidewalk, barreling over smaller obstacles when he had to until they finally reached Mission Street, which was certainly no better than Warren. Creeping along the densely crowded area he saw the swarms of emergency personnel about and called out to those in the back of the truck. This is one of the safe zones. You kids can get out here if you’d like or continue on with me to the Hospital. Feeling safe with all the emergency vehicles and the masses of people, most of the kids got out, leaving Travis and Calvin with him in the truck.<br><br>He checked to see if Susan was still with him and she was right on his tail. Turning off on another side street they slowly made their way down Division street until they intersected with Medical Center Parkway. He pulled up as close as he could get to the emergency room doors and stopped, killing the engine. <strong>”Travis, stay here and guard the truck, okay?”</strong> Travis nodded, gripping the bat tightly. “Yes, Coach.” Michael hopped out and trotted back to Susan to help get Seyda inside. <strong>”Nice driving Susan.”</strong> he smiled lightly and winked. <strong>”Let’s get her inside right away.”</strong><br>
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>03-08-2010, 20:14:34</strong>
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				Sirens and the sounds of people yelling were all Sarah could hear. The solemn shaking of the chief's head and his distant attitude told her everything she needed to know. A paramedic attempted to treat her; Sarah hadn't even realized she was bleeding until now, but a cut on her forehead was the least of her concerns right now, her mind was on her sisters well being. Looking around, Sarah attempted to get a grasp on the whole picture, but she couldn't. Emergency radio channels were completely locked up with constant traffic, a dozen different trucks, police cars and ambulances trying to talk to each other at the same time created a loud, static of blurred voices and failed training. Everyone was in a complete state of panic, and Sarah was approaching that level as well.<br><br>She returned to her truck, pulling her helmet and mask off, letting the mask hang over her shoulder and her helmet laid on the seat next to her, Kevin's seat. A long breath didn't help the feeling of remorse as the building roof collapsed next to them, spewing out a massive tower of smoke and fire, debris and a loud, ear pinching wail as the building started to collapse. Sarah sighed and rested her forehead against the seatback in front of her, determined to will this day back into the nightmare is must be, if she weren't thinking rationally, Sarah might have even believed herself. Not even her nightmares were this fucked up.<br><br>The truck abruptly started to move, and Sarah leaned back, some blood dripping off her forehead and down onto her eyelids. She blinked it away, and looked around as smoke towers littered the city. On a day like today, the adrenaline was pumping constantly and the challeneges, dangers and tradegy never stopped, but today was unlike any other day Sarah had lived through. The whole city seemed to be falling apart. As the truck sped back up Ennerdale towards the fire station, and eventually to evacuate, Sarah couldn't help but let the outer reaches of fear start taking hold. She imagined her sisters being... attacked by whatever was pulling the city under. Her lip shook a little as she tried to imagine them safe, but every image she could think up ended with her only family, indeed her very life, dead on some street or... worse. <br><br>The radio.. bites. Something didn't seem right, it seemed like some kind of George Romero nightmare flick being shot in Rockford and nobody told Sarah. The truck stopped abruptly, the high school just barely in view. "<em>For fuck sakes!</em>" the driver yelled back. Sarah leaned up and squinted her eyes at the mob surrounding the high school. "<em>We're in trouble here!</em>"<br><br>As she sat back down, a bloodied hand smacked up against the window of her door. She began to reach out to open the door, but then a second and third hand appeared. She peeked out and jumped back, the mangled faces of at least 5 people were smacking up against the door, trying to get in. Neck wounds, head wounds, gunshot wounds... things people shouldn't survive.... can't surrive. "<strong>Drive! Get us the fuck out of here!</strong>" Sarah yelled, fear rivering over in her voice. "<strong>Go go go go!</strong>"<br><br>"<em>There's people in front of us!</em>" The driver yelled back, the passenger in front seat was simply staring out the windshield. Sarah sat herself up again, looking at her window a final time as it was hopelessly smudged with blood. There were several people, moving towards the truck, some of them slower than others, all of them covered in blood. A few gunshots rang out, and from her sitting position, Sarah could see a major scuffle... battle, going on near the high school. People whacking rioters with sticks, a few police officers were scattered about but the majority seemed like civilians... high school students. Her heart sank as the driver finally gunned the trucks engines, plowing over close to a dozen rioters before they reached the turn onto Warren Street, turning hard as the sight of the fighting in front of the high school disappeared behind a building, Sarah again slumped down in her seat and fought off the urge to give in. She had a job to do, still, even though the city was ripping itself apart, someone needed to do this.<br><br>They reached the station with no more conflict, but found another problem. Everyone was already packing up, and a massive traffic jam was polluting the streets ahead. Everyone was trying to get to the bridges, and it seemed they were closed. As she hopped out, her duty Lieutenant approached her and waved his hands, to get her attention. <em>"Sarah, I need you with rescue 4-"</em> He pointed over towards an ambulance parked across the street. <em>"-we've gotten reports that an ambulance from the hospital is stuck in that traffic jam at the bridge, with 3 critical patients, one of them is Corey Dennis."</em><br><br>"<strong>Where's Hoban and Trey?</strong>" Sarah asked her voice suddenly filled with concern, but in the back of her mind she was curious why she was sitting with 4, the two senior paramedics would be much better served in that role than she, Sarah was a rescue paramedic, not a truck paramedic. <br><br><em>"We don't know, we lost contact with the rest of our ambulances. I don't know where the ambulance is in that jam, but try and get there as soon as possible."</em> He turned around and left, leaving Sarah to stand dumbfounded until one of the men from the paramedic ambulance ran over to her, handing her a helmet, she'd just realized she'd forgotten hers in the other truck, which had left a while ago. The helmet was black, with a white circle and red cross in the middle. Putting it on, Sarah followed the men over, stilling holding her axe, and some of them were doing the same, carrying weapons. They handed her a bag, and explained the plan to go out in pairs of 2, there were six here, and find the ambulance. As far as they knew, the ambulance was transporting the 3 from special care to the hospital when it was stuck between the rioters and the place they werne't going, eventually ending up in the jam. It also was noted, they were flying Corey out from the harbor, but someone said that air traffic couldn't take off for the day due to a 'weather front'.<br><br>Sarah was teamed up with someone, a man about her age, and the two set off onto the constant flow of honking and yelling, cars and other vehicles of all makes and models were scrunched together in a giant heap, stretching for as far as Sarah could immediately see. She knew there was bound to be a break in the crowd, but that was offset. As they approached, several people came running over, asking for help with sick loved ones. Sarah and her partner exchanged glances, and agreed to split up. Sarah would stay, and he would continue on. Letting her bag fall off her shoulder, Sarah set out to follow the people towards a collection point for injured people.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Urbanzorro</strong> on <strong>04-08-2010, 22:19:44</strong>
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				The city wasn't taking any chances with the hospital. Even as Michael and Susan's groups pulled up the RPD was already creating a secure perimeter around the hospital. Several patrol cars were parked at each entrance way to the hospital. The officers who had arrived in them were all armed, several of these officers were in the process of erecting a string of re-enforced police barriers around the hospital. A single SWAT van had just pulled into the parking lot and as the rear door opened several SWAT officers piled out. Each one carrying a police sniper rifle and moving to different points of the compass.<br><br>Rockford General Hospital (http://www.qatarembassy.net/qatar%20gallery/health%20care/women%20hospital%20.JPG)'s emergency room was for lack of a better expression an orchestra of barely controlled chaos. Doctors, nurses, and orderlies frantically working to keep the situation in hand as more and more patients arrived with every passing minute. Some of the nurses, most likely those who were not normally emergency room staff were obviously having trouble coping with the situation. Some were crying as they went about their jobs. Others looked like they were only a few steps away from going into catatonic shock. <br><br><br>As patients and their loved ones entered the emergency room the first thing they were met by was a large male nurse standing before the front desk he was directing incoming patients to one of two areas of the hospital. His voice was clear and firm, if not a bit frazzled. "All bite victims are to take a seat here in the emergency room. Any other emergency victims need to head down the hall to your right, and into the front lobby. A secondary emergency room has been set up and you will be treated there. If you have a bite in combination with any other injuries you must wait here in the emergency room!" The emergency room's waiting area was already full of people, every one of them nursing a bleeding wound. Standing guard at the emergency room desk were three RPD SWAT officers. Each one armed with a shot gun.<br><br>A young doctor walked up to the group carrying Seyda as soon as they'd entered the secondary emergency room. "What happened to her?" he asked as his eyes ran over her checking for any obvious signs of injuries. "and was anyone there to see it happen?"<br><br><hr><br>Paul paused, thinking over the offer for a few seconds. The nodded his head "yeah....That sounds like a plan, I don't wanna be stuck here anyways." He flashed Cal a quick grin as he pushed back the hood of his jacket "I'm always stuck pushing this thing off my head, but it's my lucky jacket you know?" As he said this he started in the direction that the other students were moving, keeping pace with Cal so they could talk. <br><br>The exodus of students wasn't anything like the catastrophe that had occurred earlier that day, this time most of the students' weren't scared, most figuring that if something was going to happen to the college it would have by now. As the students from the library began to file out, and make their way north first across campus then off it and in the direction of Mission Street, the 'herd' was joined by other groups who had been hiding out in some of the other school buildings and for what ever reason felt that leaving for Mission Street was the right choice of action. Within the next 5 minutes the vast majority of students from all over campus had joined the march to Mission Street.<br><br>As the trek continued Paul, continued to make small talk with Cal, hitting up on every subject from the local sports teams, to politics. He had always had a tendency to talk too much when he got nervous, and he was very nervous right now. <br><br><hr><br><br>It was several minutes before the same student who had asked to commandeer Lasair's car spoke up, breaking the silence that had descended. "Everyone's moving somewhere together" he said his voice mixed with curiosity and excitement in equal parts.&nbsp; He gestured out the window so that everyone would know where to look. <br><br>"It looks like they are heading north...maybe to the shelters on Mission Street?" said his girlfriend. <br><br>"Yeah that makes sense" Her boyfriend responded "Maybe they figure safety in numbers."<br><br>It was obvious that the student's who had been given permission to use Lasair's on campus quarters had no intention of joining the group as they watched the majority of the student body make its trek off campus in the opposite direction of the parking lots. <br><br><br><hr><br>Time seemed to have stood still within the large traffic jam that was created when the bridges were closed. Cars, trucks, and all other manner of motor vehicle found themselves stuck with no where to go, and no options for a way out. Several of the injuries that Sarah wound up treating were in fact caused by people getting caught in the way of cars driven by frantic men and women with no regard to pedestrian safety. Word spread fast through the traffic jam that Sarah was helping the injured and those who's wounds were to serious for them to ignore made their way to her location. <br><br>Milling around, and waiting their turn to be treated, after what would have seemed like forever the sound of running footsteps could be heard. "RUN!" someone shouted "They're coming!!" a split second later several men and women ran past the 'crowd' of injured people that had formed around Sarah. They pushed past anyone in their way, these people had been further back along the bridge, closer to the western edge and therefore closer to the rioters.&nbsp; The press of people around Sarah was too tight to allow her a good look at what was on the other side of the crowd.&nbsp; <br><br><br>"They're here!" someone else cried out! <br><br><br><br>Screams of fear, and shouted orders to get out of the way vied with each other for each person's attention, the crowd around Sarah began to disperse as each man and woman tried to run away from the bridge's entrance in the hope that the police officers would let them past the barricade. As the crowd thinned the sight it revealed was a horrible one. A literal horde of former humanity was snapping at the heels of the fleeing civilian's. There were men and women of all shapes sizes and ages, each one with the same vacant stare in what remained of their eyes. Several of them, the ones at the very front of the horde, noticed Sarah and the few people who had for what ever reason wound up father back than most, these 'rioters' began to stumble in the general direction of their targets. Mindless moans escaping from some of them as others simply opened and closed their mouths. <br><br><br>And behind them, there were more, and more of the creatures! A seemingly endless wave of teeth, and hands eager to rip at the people before them. <br><br>The sound of a helicopter could be heard, <strong>"This is the RPD! We need everyone to move towards the barricade now!" </strong>&nbsp; a man's amplified voice called out from the police chopper (http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/2/22/KM_6159_city_of_chicago_police_helicopter_august_2007.jpg) that had taken up station above the bridge<strong>"Drop what ever you are carrying and run as fast as you can! </strong> As he said this the helicopter turned so that it's side was facing the approaching 'rioters.'&nbsp; The side door opened to reveal 3 police officers armed with sniper rifles, and laying in the prone firing position. each officer began to fire on the 'rioters' without any warning being issued it was as if the issuing of a warning was decided as being a waste of time. A fourth officer was standing his chest strapped into a harness that kept him secured to the helicopter. And the handles of a large machine gun in his hands, he wasn't firing yet though, unwilling to risk shooting civilians along with the rioters. The front most 'rioters' began to drop down, bullet wounds blowing holes in their torsos, arms, legs, and heads.&nbsp; Only those who suffered damage to the head failed to get back up. 
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>rick957</strong> on <strong>08-08-2010, 03:15:24</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>CAL SNYDER<br><em>en route from Rockford City College to the Mission Street emergency shelter</em></strong><br><br>Cal was pleased to discover that he was far from being the only RCC undergrad capable of improvising creative responses to the present crisis.&nbsp; A number of students who had joined the caravan-on-foot had brought with them various items scavenged from different places on campus -- random things they thought might come in handy, in case shit kept getting stranger that day.&nbsp; The hastily-looted supplies were distributed at random among crowd members, especially those with backpacks or other ways of carrying things.&nbsp; It was kind of like a community potluck before World War Three.&nbsp; <br><br>For example, one nurse from the campus infirmary had drafted a pair of helpers and filled two garbage bags with sundry medical supplies.&nbsp; With the help of other volunteers, the items were sorted and handed out inside little plastic grocery bags, each containing the basic items of any emergency first-aid kit.&nbsp; Cafeteria workers had raided all the nonperishable foodstuffs and bottled drinks and were giving them out in case people needed them later.&nbsp; <br><br>Members of various RCC sports teams had come up with even stranger things to share with other walkers.&nbsp; Basically anything that could be turned into an offensive or defensive tool got distributed for those purposes, from sticks, clubs, and racquets of all shapes and sizes (golf, tennis, lacrosse, etc.), to a full range of protective headgear (football and lax helmets, hockey masks, even wrestling headgear).&nbsp; Cal ended up with a set of football pads, an old baseball bat, and a good sharp javelin, of all things.&nbsp; His personal favorite handout, however, came from a resourceful science major, who had gone through all the toxic substances at the campus labs and constructed a high-tech sort of Molotov cocktail:&nbsp; corked glass flasks and bottles containing god-knows-what substances of various colors, each guaranteed to do some nasty damage to somebody.&nbsp; Most of the walkers were too unnerved to want to handle these home-made bioweapons, but Cal and Paul went for the blue and the green gook, respectively.<br><br>Despite his odd sartorial habits, Paul's nonstop talking soon put Cal at ease.&nbsp; His loquaciousness seemed to be overcompensating for the level of anxiety they were both feeling, just the same as everyone else on the trip.&nbsp; The atmosphere during the short trek was incredibly tense but not altogether unpleasant.&nbsp; There was no getting around the comical appearance of the marchers, with all their mismatched sporting gear and bags of random supplies, and that combined with the freakish news of the day put everyone in a talkative, even slightly giddy mood.&nbsp; The sense of collective purpose was evident:&nbsp; people could tell they may need to depend on each other to face the unpredictable dangers ahead.&nbsp; Many sudden, new friendships were formed out of mutual apprehension during the journey to the shelter, and Cal hoped for one between him and Paul, since he had no other friends at hand -- Cynthia, his actor pal, was nowhere in sight.&nbsp; <br><br>No amount of wariness, forethought, or comradery, however, could prepare the travelers for the nightmare they would face when they reached their destination and got their first upclose look at the victims of the rioters' madness.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Destiny Ascension</strong> on <strong>15-08-2010, 06:09:37</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Sarah tended to as many wounded as appeared in front of her. She went after mobility wounds first and some of the lesser wounded, sparing that rule for anyone who was in danger of dying. She worked quickly, hastily throwing on bandages without regard for the pain of her patients, and some were vocal about that fact. Sarah ignored all of them, patching up a large number of people and treating those who she could effectively help with a short period of time. A lot of people were showing up and it became obvious to Sarah she was going to run out of supplies. She only had a little bit of everything, mostly bandages and precious few drugs; adrenaline and morphine. Almost everyone wanted something for whatever pain they were in, but she saved it for someone who really needed it.<br><br>What surprised Sarah most, were the types of wounds. Cuts and deep gashes were the most common, but breaks, stab wounds, gunshot wounds, burns, fractures, impact wounds, crush wounds. Everything that one could expect for civil disorder wasn't present, as though it was a civil riot mixed with a natural disaster. She hadn't known things were getting so out of hand that these types of wounds would show up, and in such a high number. A lot of people were edgy, but most remained calm and as quiet as possible as Sarah treated their wounds, some became angry when she wouldn't give them any kind of drug but nothing escalated. <br><br>But she'd only been underway for a short while before people started shouting and yelling, some running. Initially Sarah was too focused on bandaging a mans leg to take notice of the brewing panic, but when her patient up and started to run before she even finished on his leg, she looked up and her mind clued into the panic rapidly escalating around her. A few people were still standing about, but most had run. Sarah quickly stood up and closed her bag, motioning to a few people who weren't wounded who remained behind. "<strong>Hey! Help some of these people to the barricade.</strong>" Sarah waved her hand to a couple of people who were severely wounded. "<strong>Get these people back! Go!</strong>" Sarah yelled, as the helicopter appeared overhead.<br><br>She looked up waving her arm and motioning towards the wounded people, most of whom were limping off away from the approaching rioters... zombies, whatever the fuck these people were, Sarah raised her axe threateningly as the closest few people, none of them seemed taken back or seemed to even notice. The few people who could move under their own power were already moving and Sarah cautiously started backing away from the large group of people as the chopper, or at least the officers inside, started to open fire. Sarah ducked down as shell casing bounced off her helmet, but as she calmed herself down and realized what it was that was hitting her, she erected herself, staying between the slowest of the moving wounded and what ...things there were surviving. One in particular moved quickly enough to get under the chopper, and moved towards Sarah faster than the wounded behind her.<br><br>Turning and facing the man head on, once he was close enough, Sarah jabbed him with the business end of the axe with both hands, carrying it like a door ram, and then quickly bringing the axe up above her head, and throwing her body weight into an overhead downward strike.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Writersblockade</strong> on <strong>15-08-2010, 15:13:17</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Calvin had dropped off his first-aid kit with Susan’s gang and hopped back in the truck, glad to have some destination and goal…even if it was only a short term one. He huddled with the other students to help keep them all from sliding around the truck as it moved. They were half successful, but the movement that occurred was quickly fixed with a few quick hands and adrenaline assisted backs. The stop to the Mission Street safe-zone was a blessing for most of the kids, and he gladly helped them off the truck, especially the pretty girl he unknowingly saved earlier. As she gave him a shy wave good-bye, he sadly wondered if he’d see her again. With the movement of people, and evacuations that should be getting people out of the city soon, it might be a long shot.<br><br>He didn’t have any time to think about it more before the truck moved on. He almost rolled off, and was saved by some cargo netting in the back. As he slid his back to the cabin, he took in the pure mayhem of the moment. The city had become a warzone. They were leaving others behind who were on foot; some held their hands out for a ride, and others in obvious need of assistance. Calvin could do nothing for these people, and knew it, but that didn’t make the ache in his heart hurt any less. It only amplified a feeling of helplessness that was already welled up inside of him, threatening another emotional break. <br><br>He found himself staring at the bottom of the truck cabin and rocking back and forth as he hugged his legs against his chest. He figured he…went away again, because they were just about to pull into the Hospital safe-zone. Somehow, as he looked at the absolute chaos of white coats, blue police uniforms, and nurse outfits, he didn’t feel very safe. His hand absently went to the bat how holstered in his bag. He felt the wrapped grip done by one of the baseball team members and felt a little confidence come back to him. He can handle this, and he’s got stains on the bat to prove it.<br><br>He helped Tom carry Syeda to the hospital grounds, and followed coach through the maze of people. He saw the doctor approach and heard the questions, but he was at a loss <em>”I wasn’t there…I think she was bit…?”</em> He looked over at Tom for verification, and Tom shook his head quickly <em> “ No, no…”</em> He said, a little embarrassed to have to say this in front of Syeda <em>”I think she was raped…but I didn’t see it. I just saw her walking…”</em>. He couldn’t finish, looking at a place in the ground, as if wishing he could burrow there for a while. Calvin’s eyes widened before looking at Syeda, then frowned at the reality of it. ‘Are we really that fucked up?’, was his only thought as he held her.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Rhoswen</strong> on <strong>21-08-2010, 13:29:44</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">Lasair Rowen</span><br>&nbsp;<br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">Lasair nodded in agreement to the obvious as she watched the students disburse into the streets all going the same way. She had given as much help as any one teacher could to these students and turned to James who was less then forthcoming with the information. Looking over at her James pondered the reasons he was so unwilling to just tell Lasair&nbsp; the truth about the separation. Maybe it was unimportant as so much else had been happening today. “Look, me and …my wife, working things out. She’s just out of town the both of them and I just hate cooking for myself, you know that. What better way then to take a vacation and get room service at the same time.”</span>&nbsp; <br>&nbsp;<br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">He gave a grin and a head nod to confirm the area was clearing away from the parking lot. “Well if we’re going Miss. Owen we better get out of here now.” James said heading for the classroom door to wait her lead. “Right…take care you guys and mind the Professor he may be old but he is wise and will take you to my quarters.” Lasair’s legs carried her straight out the classroom doorway past James who hoped she was settled for now about him and his wife. </span> <br>&nbsp;<br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">Each raced up the halls and toward the back nearest the staff parking lot. The shoes she wore, any other time, wouldn’t have bother her. But the stiletto’s were high and Lasair hated the nose they made as they ran. Pulling them off her feet, felt the cold marbled like floors beneath her feet as they barreled through the final hall to get to her car. Crashing the back exit found the energy to keep it together and tried making their way to her car. The noise from students echoed like a beehive at her ears as the large crowd continued to head toward Mission Street. Lasair placed her soft leather brief case on the trunk of her car as she checked frantically several pockets for her keys forgetting already where she placed them. After a few long sighs, she found them as they jingled in her hands while placing them into the lock of her trunk. </span><br>&nbsp;<br><br><span style="font-family: arial;" class="bbc_font">In went her bag and a quick check for the other bag with her money and emergency equipment. Just before she slammed the hood James reached in, and had taken the javelin sticks, We might need protection no matter who the mob. he said as he&nbsp; walked around to the passenger side. Slamming the back end close, James raised a brow in response to Lasair’s stress in closing things. Once she clicked a button to release the door locks, they got in finally and hearing the start of the engine meant she was half was home. Turning to see out her rear window was clear to move out as her foot slid across the gas gave what she could and backed out carefully and steadily. </span>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>NosCorventius</strong> on <strong>28-08-2010, 21:06:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				"Hey Jimbo. Eddie," greeted the hulking shape that moved in the shadows. "Got a majorly sweet ride for you........Ah fuck Jimbo not you too! Man I thought you kicked the habit." Eddie exclaimed as he saw the vacant look in The bikers eyes as he lumbered towards him. <br><br>"Hey Jim what the fucks wrong with you man it's eddie. The huge biker just kept coming the gurgle in his throat&nbsp; making Eddie look him fully over in the dim light, " Man what the hell happened to your stomach bro...I don't think you can live with that for long hanging out like....Oh Jesus Are you fucking kidding me...." Eddie eyes got wide as he realized what was going on. <br><br><strong><em>They're not sick or hopped up on bad dope. Jim's not even breathing, for fucks sake! It the damn zombie apocalypse! I stuck in a god damn horror film! Alright man keep it together, Just breathe and look around find something to put that bastard down.</em></strong> <br><br>Eddie scrambled around ducking under tables and dodging around cars trying to keep some distance between him and the dead cannibal that used to be a friend. <br><br>" Come on, come on, I need to find something here, otherwise I'm todays lunch special. A torch or a crowbar; hell even a big wrench will do." he thought as he looked around himself desperate to find a weapon big nough to take the big man down.&nbsp; 
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Haibane</strong> on <strong>13-09-2010, 20:42:12</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				SUSAN BAILEY<br><br>I think there's only so much a person can take, obviously soldiers and police and extreme sportspeople can take a lot, ER doctors and nurses too I don't doubt.<br><br>But I'm not one of those people, to me extreme sports means extra lemon in my Sangria while I'm on the beach watching those nice muscular surf dudes. And being in a city that was coming apart in panic was a little more extreme than too much lemon. A fair bit more.<br><br>I'm just an ordinary girl, I guess and ordinary girls I have decided are happiest with ordinary lives...<br><br>The details of the drive to Mission Street are hazy. All the hundreds of cars, many abandoned in the jammed traffic and lack of gas or I guess overheated engines and the thousands of people on foot going north was... just more of the stuff that was well beyond ordinary. I remember sitting at the wheel of Steve and gripping the rim with white knuckles and Todd physically prising my fingers one at a time off it. We were at the hospital.<br><br>Around the hospital were police, SWAT guys, fire fighters, reporters... everybody. We took Syeda in and sat with her in a corridor for what felt like hours until a frazzled looking doctor with mussed hair, grubby clothes and what looked horribly like spots of blood on his coat waved us in and checked the unconscious Indian girl. He asked what happened and the boy we'd met up with in Coach Winters' truck I think said something but I wasn't really listening.<br><br><strong>"She was... I'm not sure... We all got mixed up in a crush in the high school trying to get out it was..."</strong><br><br><strong><em>"What's wrong with the girl please? How was she injured?"</em></strong> The doctor pretty much ignored me and looked over my head at the football coach.<br><br><strong>"She got trampled. I think. I don't know. I just... I didn't see it. She might have broken ribs or something..."</strong> I turned away, I felt like I might throw up.<br><br>* * *<br><br>The doctor took Syeda away. Todd and Katie waited with us for a while but there was no more news and the place was getting more and more crowded and chaotic. Eventually I couldn't bear it.<br><br><strong>"I'm going outside. Need some air. Catch you later."</strong><br><br>Outside on the patch of lawn beside the hospital entrance drive was the only piece of free clear space and that had quite a few people crashed out on it. I plumped myself down on the grass and leaned back on a tree trunk. I had grabbed a bottle of water from a vending machine in the lobby and gasping for liquid downed half of it in one go. When I looked round the boy and Coach Winters were there.<br><br><strong>"So. What now?"</strong> I asked, holding my arm out stiffly, the bottle in my hand, towards the young Afro-American guy who's name I still didn't know, <strong>"And what the hell is going on?"</strong><br><br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: Escape From Rockford IC</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Writersblockade</strong> on <strong>14-09-2010, 12:15:32</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				Calvin Winslow (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=74467.msg3337310#msg3337310)<br><br>The Doctor didn’t seem very pleased with their explanation of Syeda’s injuries. He couldn’t blame the guy…it’s usually nice to know what was wrong with someone before you tried to fix them. There wasn’t much he could do about it besides watch as the doctor took the girl away. He’d barely known her, but tragedy had a tendency to bring the most unlikely of people together. And this was more than some two-bit tragedy. He’d seen Susan out the corner of his eye seem to retreat into herself. He was about to ask her if she was okay, when she excused herself from the group. There wasn’t a way in hell he was letting her go off by herself, so he followed her out.<br><br>He kept his distance, but made sure he stayed in view of her and vice versa. People needed alone time, he got that, but this wasn’t the place or time for a private moment. The cops may be around here, but order was a fucking illusion. He had his bat good and ready for when the shit eventually hit the fan. He’d caught up with Susan outside, and saw her leaning on a tree while sitting on the grass. Leave it up to her to make it look so natural amidst the shit going on around them. He'd gave the girl her space, since he didn't really know her, and just positioned himself so she knew he was around. Zombies eating people was no reason for bad manners.<br><br>After she'd spoke, he was glad that she was thinking the same thing she was “The overall plan would be to stay alive. It’s the how that I don’t know about. Between you and me though…I don’t think this place is going to make it.” He moved a finger around them as he said it and shrugged “Too many people in and out. Cops won’t be able to stop a wave of those things if they came our way. I really think we should get the hell out of here, and take whoever can make it with us.” He felt bad. It’s not like Syeda did anything to him, but the shit has changed…the very rules he’s had burned into him have changed, and he was only trying to be real about it.<br>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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