The mission to rescue Blue Brigade member Moira Jones continues…
A secret self-organized unit within the ZSC received the Urgent call for help from Moira Jones and sprang into action. Although the city is awash with walkers, these brave souls put together a mission plan on hearing Moira’s plight. Exactly what we expect from Zombie Survival Crew members. Below is a brief mission recap, then a continuation of the field reports pouring in following up on earlier reports of the mission’s genesis.
MISSION: Rescue one Moira Jones from 6th floor of over run hospital.
OBJECTIVE: Search for and rescue Moira Jones and bring to safety.
STRATEGY: Rendezvous with fellow members of the ZSC and use skill sets to bring Moira Jones to safety.
- URGENT: Letter from Moira
- Zombie Survival Crew Rescue Mission
- Moira Rescue Mission: Part II
- Official ZSC Command Communications Record
- Norman Reedus – Blue Brigade Commander
- Michael Rooker – Head of Special Forces
- Tiffany, Rebecca, Apryl, Emma, Jessica, and Eve – A ragtag group of ZSC members from different brigades that are going to come together to ensure Moira is rescued and brought to safety. (@MacabreKiss @RebeccaMStarr @FlaneryGrl @Emmabookworm @Jessadorkadon and @Catella_Snape)
We split off from the group and made our way silently toward the eastern staircase. Aside from the big group we’d encountered when we first entered the building, Norman and I weren’t seeing many walkers. We took down five before we made it to the door that opened into the stairwell.
“This seems a bit too easy,” Norman said, almost too softly for me to hear. I wasn’t sure if he was talking to me or thinking aloud.
“You okay, Eve?” I looked over to see him watching me.
“Yes, I’m fine.” I tossed him a quick glance and added, “I’m worried about Moira. That message from Sean has me a bit freaked out.”
“Yeah, me too.” Norman stepped forward to peek in the window of the stairwell door.
He leapt back as a grotesque face slammed against the glass.
“Damn!” He studied the walker for a moment. We could hear more of them shuffling around behind the door.
I pulled my hunting knife out of its sheath and held it so that the blade ran along my forearm. My left hand gripped my compound bow. I nocked an arrow—held between my right middle and forefinger, leaving my two other fingers and thumb wrapped tightly around the hilt of my knife. I turned and covered the hallway behind us while he prepped his weapons.
Norman pulled back the string on his crossbow until he heard it lock. He slid a bolt in place, pulled a silenced 9mm Glock out of his waistband and chambered a round. He grabbed his walkie and announced that we were entering the stairwell.
“Here goes!” He yanked the door open and stepped to the side as I loosed an arrow into the group amassed there.
My arrow went through three skulls before lodging into the fourth, not quite penetrating the creature’s brain.
Norman jumped over the fallen and began working his way through the dozen or so other undead that crowded eagerly toward him.
I took the flat of my palm and shoved the arrow through the skull of the fourth zombie before sending a second arrow flying to take another out just as it lunged for Norman’s back.
The base of the stairwell was far too constricted to use our bows practically. We slung them and focused on knife work.
He gestured to the stairs behind me with a nod of his head and used his hands to signal that he wanted me to go first, he would be right behind me. Fortunately, red tinged emergency lights still lit this area and we were able to make it up the two flights to the third floor.
Norman studied the map near the door.
“Right. It should be a straight shot past this nurse’s station then we head left and the next set of stairs should be just down this hallway. There are,” he did a quick count of the small rooms off the hallway, “only 12 rooms, six on each side, between us and the stairs. We’ll assume they were all occupied when it all went down. Of course there are 48 rooms total in this wing so we should be prepared for worst case scenario.”
He reloaded his gun and crossbow as I double checked my guns.
As he pushed the handle down, the emergency lights failed, throwing us into pitch black.
“Holy crap!” I whispered. “I can’t see anything!”
“Here.” I tapped one of the flashlights against his hand and he took it. I swung my bag back around, the other flashlight in my hand.
I felt breath on the back of my neck; my heart constricted and goosebumps rose all up and down my arms. This breath was cold and it reeked of rotting flesh. I whirled around and smashed my flashlight against its face before tripping on Norman’s shoe. I fell against the railing, my right foot slipped off the edge of the top stair and I tumbled down, coming to a stop on my back a few feet below. My flashlight rolled down to the landing and flickered on spreading an eerie light up the wall.
I couldn’t breathe and my ankle throbbed.
I tried to get up and felt sharp pain stab through my ankle. I sucked a breath in through my teeth to keep from crying out. Tears pricked my eyes as I flopped back down.
Norman rushed down. He came into view on my left side.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“It didn’t bite me.” I wanted that to be very clear. “I hurt my ankle when I fell. I don’t think I can walk on it.”
He looked down at my ankle and grimaced. I knew it had to be bad.
“It’s already swollen and bruised. It looks awful.” He carefully lifted my leg.
“I’ll have to help you walk.” He decided after even the tiniest pressure on the joint made me wince.
“Norman, there’s no time for that! You need to get to Moira.”
“I am not leaving you behind. I have to make sure you get back to your little girl!” I could tell from his tone there was no point in arguing.
“I need a way to stabilize it. A splint or something. All I have is an ace bandage and some gauze in my first aid kit. Then maybe I can put some weight on it.” I tried to pull my toes up which earned me a wave of hot pain that cascaded up my leg from my ankle.
“Hey!” Norman reached into his back pocket and pulled the map back out. “There’s a medical supplies closet just past the nurse’s station. Think there’s something there we could use?”
I shrugged and frowned at him. “I don’t think you should go in there by yourself.”
“Come here.” He helped me to my feet and guided me to the top of the stairs.
He had me sit against the wall, facing the door. He jogged back down the stairs and grabbed my flashlight.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” He pointed to my guns, “Keep those handy.”
I took them both out and rested them on my lap. “Be careful in there.”
He nodded then slipped through the door.
The silence in that darkened stairwell was deafening. As I waited, I fought back tears. I worried that he’d get hurt. I worried that we wouldn’t get to Moira in time. I worried that I’d never see Michelle again.
At one point a walker leaned against the door, which failed to latch behind Norman. I shot it and the four that followed. Their bodies kept the door wide open, but I couldn’t move them.
I saw a zombie fly backwards, an arrow embedded in its skull and breathed a sigh of relief as Norman came into view.
He took the bandage from my kit and carefully wrapped my ankle first. He fit a stiff ankle brace over that and then a walking boot before helping me to my feet.
I took a tentative step and while there was still a great deal of pain, it was manageable.
“This will work.”
We entered the cardiac ward. At one point most of these people were someone’s grandparent, husband, wife. Bodies littered the floor as we made our way to the staircase that’d take us to the sixth floor.
We were nearly there when a walker launched itself from behind a curtain and latched on to Norman’s arm. “Son of a…” He fell backwards, as it snapped at him.
I limped forward as quickly as I could and drove the blade of my hunting knife to the hilt into the base of its skull.
Norman panted, his eyes wide. I took hold of his arm and pulled back his sleeve and examined it carefully. There were indentations where the teeth had tried to penetrate, but the skin remained unbroken.
“Thank God,” I whispered. “I guess you and Daryl don’t share the same luck when it comes to sleeves.”
“Ha!” He smiled and shook his head.
I helped him up and we walked over to the door that would lead to Moira. He signaled on the walkie-talkie that our wing was clear and we were heading up the final 3 flights.
“God, I hope she’s alright,” Norman breathed.
He opened the door and we began our ascent.