Police and Fire |
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Joe and Francoise went to explore the rest of the fire station, noting the electric roller doors on the vehicle bay, keyless engine start and working power to the building. Francoise opened a bonnet and gave the engine a check-over. It looked in good working order.
Joe, Anné and Olga slipped out of the fire station and, noting the continued absence of the sniper from the roof, tested their fieldcraft to the utmost and slipped across the open space to the side of the police station, out of sight of the smashed north doors through which Abpraller continued to mill in frustration, obviously trying to get into some part of the building.
As they crossed the road leading towards the main site exit gate to the West, Joe and Anné noticed more recent footprints in the snow; partially filled in by last night's snow, they none the less bore a strong resemblance to those of German army boots. There were six sets, which tallied with the likely numbers of Schneider's expedition.
The side of the police station wasn't designed to be scaled - they aren't, usuaully - but with a boost from Anné's 6'3" frame, Joe was able to scramble up and reach the roof. He helped the other two up, then produced a rather worn hanky and tied it to the muzzle of his Bren, making a mildly confused message but hopefully a recognizable white flag.
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Advancing across the roof, they met the sniper as he emerged from the roof hatch. With Olga's aid, they explained who they were, and the man - introducing himself as Niccolai Dante - invited them down to meet his comrades.
They found themselves in the cell block of the police station, the access doors securely barricaded. Six of the security staff had survived the holocaust. Led by the senior survivor - Cpl Vladimir Kuzenko, four constables and Dante were uneasily joined by the Political officer, Alexsander Borozkin. Anné was already aware of the function of Politicals, and muttered a quick explanation to the others; in matters of Party loyalty, Borozkin could even override officers if he saw cause.
Apart from the security guards, three police secretaries and the 'town' baker - who had been in the cells for D&D - had managed to reach comparative safety. All were underfed, exhausted and traumatized to varying degrees by their experiences.
With Olga's translational aid, and a degree of arm-waving, the two groups discussed options. The party's idea of using the fire engines to escape appealed to Kuzenko, despite Borozkin's urgings that they did not need the ideas of "imperialist running dogs" to survive. They were a little half-hearted, though, as - fanatic though he was - he was aware of the dangers they were all in. Joe pointed out that the team planned to stay for a while, to try and squash Schneider's expedition before they did even more damage; Kuzenko, after a little hesitation, was up for this, as was one of the soldiers and sniper Dante but Borozkin was quick to argue for immediate flight. Joe looked at him; "I want to leave and bomb the place," he said in acceptable Russian, "but we have to stop Schneider."
They were still debating this when the conversation was interrupted by a roar of engines.
While the others were negotiating with the Soviets, Birapeer and Cyril had selected a fire engine each and started them up. Everyone else piled on, and Francoise hit the button to roll the vehicle door open, scrambling aboard as the red monster rumbled past and out of the building, and carried on until she was atop the ladders mounted above the vehicle. A sudden lurch nearly dumped her in the snow, and she hastened to strap herself in place.
Cyril and Birapeer swung the great machines in sweeping curves around the fire station and towards the police station, noticing as they did that the Abpraller which had been lurking near the doors had started towards the fire station, attracted by the noise. The two drivers exchanged grins of anticipation and throttled the venerable engines towards the lurching forms. Slightly ahead, Cyril aimed at the three zombiskis and gripped the wheel. The engines could only reach around 25mph on this terrain, but with a full tank of water aboard their mass was considerable. With a soggy thud, two of the creatures went down under the first machine's wheels, the third managing to be in the wrong place and was missed.
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As they went past, Marcus opened up with the Blevins on the one they'd missed, and watched in satisfaction as the enzymes burned into the undead flesh. To his horror, he saw the two they'd hit stirring in the snow; one lurched to its' feet, though missing an arm and with its' head twisted to an unfeasible angle. The other seemed to have lost both legs and was trying to drag itself along. Neither managed to escape as Birapeer grimly mowed them down for the second time. The engine lurched as it bumped over the things, making Francoise glad she'd strapped in as she lined up the Nachtwölfe StgW44 they'd acquired in Peru on the lucky one that had now been missed twice. She fired a long burst, and the laser-like likes of pale blue tore across the snow to drill the Abpraller full of blackened holes that did not heal; it keeled over unmoving.
From atop the fire station, Kuzenko turned to Joe and Anné with a rather awed expression on his face. "They with you?" he asked disbelievingly as the two huge red vehicles swerved again, mowing down some more Abpraller that had emerged from the police station. As they waited, the engines drew up parallel to the building and Cyril and Birapeer urged the occupants to climb aboard. With Francoise shooting zombies off the sides of her engine, the last civilians boarded, and they were off again.
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They dropped the civilians, Borozkin and the timid police constables at the station, allowing them to board the third fire engine and head for the exit, then went grimly back to exterminating zombies. Once they were clear, they located the site's fuel store, dumped the engines' water tanks and filled them with petrol instead. It was a fairly simple matter to hose the hospital building with the fluid, then retreat to a safe distance, carefully breaking any trails of drops that might have connected the engines to the buildings. One of the Jack's Stuff matches strapped to one of Olga's arrows allowed them to ignite the fluid, and the zombie-infested building went up in a massive inferno that must have been visible for miles.
With a little breathing space, they decided to go and have a look at the main excavation, into which they had been unable to see fully from the perimeter. Cautiously, they drove to the edge and looked down - into horror.
It hadn't occurred to anyone before this point to wonder where the remainder of the hundreds of people living here had gone; and here they were. At least a hundred Abpraller were gathered at the bottom of the mile-wide pit, surging slowly back and forth, apparently trying to get into somewhere further down, perhaps a mine shaft.
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Half way down, another Soviet Zis5, this time the regular truck model, was stopped on the roadway facing downwards, its door open but apparently undamaged.
After some thought, Joe and Cyril worked their way around the top of the pit, then carefully scrambled down the slopes between turns of the spiral roadways until they reached the truck. It seemed in working order, so Cyril started it and Joe guided him in the ticklish excercise of reversing it around and driving it out. The sounds of its engine, distant to those in the pit, were covered by the ever-present rumble of the extraction plant.
Meanwhile, Birapeer, Marcus, Francoise, Anné and Olga had returned to the fuel store and were filling 50-gallon drums with petrol. When the lorry arrived, they laid planks to the rear drop door and rolled eight of them onto the truck. If they could get it close enough, they could roll opened drums down onto the mob below; another flaming arrow should allow for a second barbeque. If fortune was with them!
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Session Date: 7th July 2020 - in CyberSpace! |
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