Play@YSDC

Outside accident and emergency, where the ambulances came to park and where stretchers bearing the injured or the seriously ill were moved quickly and cautiously into the rooms beyond. The sky was a bright blue, unmarred by clouds, but for a line of thick black cloud that Nurse Sarah Carpenter can glimpse at the outermost edge of the sky.

This is her break. Two other nurses, Julian Rogers and Maria Jane, had dragged her outside so they could have a cigarette. Most staff pretty much agreed that these two were the most sociable and outspoken nurses in the entire hospital and it was common knowledge that simply going along with them was often the easier option.

Maria Jane was far more popular of the two of them with men, though, her dark brown curls tied into a thick bun, her full lips and wide eyes seeming to perpetually flirt. As a pair of paramedics dragged a stretcher bearing a man with vomit on his shirt part the trio, Maria raised her hand a little and smiled at one of the more handsome of the duo. A couple other staff members took hold of the stretcher and the paramedics got back onto their ambulance and headed off to take another call.

Today seemed to be busier then usual even by the past week's unusual standards.

"We have got to get more staff," Julian Rogers complained as she crushed her cigarette butt underfoot and headed indoors.

Maria Jane sucked on her cigarette, attempting to finish it quickly.

Strange, thought Sarah Carpenter when she saw the black cloud in the distance. I don't think I've ever seen anything like that before. She wrinkled her nose at the cigarette smoke. You'd think they'd know better than to smoke, especially since they're health care professionals.

When the paramedics brought the patient into the hospital, Sarah cut her break short and followed Julian inside to see what she could do to help. Making other people feel better made her feel better too. Besides, keeping busy with work helped keep her mind off of...other things. Sarah shook her head, pushing away the memory that had returned unbidden.

As Sarah Carpenter starts heading inside she notices a sudden swell in traffic behind her. Almost as one, a variety of camper vans, minivans, station wagons, sedans and 4WDs move in alongside a pair of ambulances, clogging the section of road the ambulances normally take. Several staff push past her and rush into the general chaos. A distinct smell of soot and blood, overlaid with something that stung her nostrils, seemed to come with them.

"Attention emergency personnel," says an unfamiliar voice over the intercom. "An emergency situation has developed. Will everyone who is not otherwise occupied, please go down to Accident and Emergency. I repeat, an emergency situation has developed. Will everyone who is not otherwise occupied, please go down to Accident and Emergency."

This in itself was odd. The phrasing was all wrong and the warning should have come a lot sooner. Why would they wait until all these people had arrived before informing them?

Everything seemed wrong.

Maybe I'm just being jumpy, thinks Sarah Carpenter. She had been so accustomed to imagining danger around every corner and was just starting to get used to the idea that her nightmare was over at last. Still, this is most unusual. I was heading to Accident and Emergency anyway, and I can't not go...but that doesn't mean I can't be careful. Sarah proceeds towards her destination, keeping her eyes and ears open for anything else out of the ordinary.

Sarah Carpenter heads directly to the triage area to examine patients who have come in order to sort out the basic complaints and to work out which patients had greater priority. There's already three children in there being seen by a different triage nurse who is busily asking them questions as a woman she presumes is the mother is floating around in the background, answering for them sometimes.

The children's eyes are glazed, blood trickling from their left nostril and the left corner of their mouth. Nurse Lisa Thompson checks one of the children's chests with a stethoscope and becomes increasingly agitated as she moves it around. Finally, she tosses it at Sarah Carpenter. "Get me another one!" It's not like her to be so agitated. Triage nurses were trained to remain calm.

Just as Sarah Carpenter instinctively catches the stethoscope, the doors are opened and a doctor peers in. "What are you playing at? We've got a full parking lot out there."

"Sorry, Doctor!" says Sarah Carpenter, hurrying over. Though the children look awful, there are doubtless people who need her more. What in the world is going on here? she wonders. "A nurse just told me to get a replacement stethoscope." She deliberately leaves out her name to keep Lisa Thompson from getting in trouble. "What can I do to help?"

"We need someone to go out into the parking lot and sort the priority for treatment," says the doctor, scratching at his moustache. "The smart tagsare in that top drawer." He gestures to a drawer in a nearby cupboard, spins around and walks out.

"...overwhelmed the back of the car almost," says the assumed mother of the three children.

"I'm on it," says Sarah, slipping the stethoscope around her neck as she hurries to the drawer. She opens it and collects the smart tags, trying to follow the conversation at the same time. It seems like Lisa thinks this stethoscope isn't working right, she thinks. Easy enough to check by seeing if I can hear my own heart once I get a spare moment - but that could be quite a while. Sarah takes the tags and runs towards the parking lot, thankful that she's a very fast runner. None of the others would be able to get out there as quickly.

It was chaos out there. So many different types of cars filled with so many different types of people. Strangely, most of the cars seemed to be poorly looked after, marred with dirt and rust, the paint flaking in places. The nurse was distracted by the dozen or so potential patients starting to form a loose group, held back by one staff member who told them to wait for the triage nurse to sort through them.

A blonde woman with a gucci bag: "My husband ... he's gurgling, there's blood everywhere, he's spitting it up."

"What the hell is back there, anyway? Are we contaminated or somethin' All the cars behind us started going everywhere! I can't focus my eyes right. What's goin' on?" demanded a man with long blonde hair that fell to his shoulders, looking back at his two friends for support. "Radio kept sayin' somethin' 'bout that and all."

"My eyes!" screeched an elderly woman, clutching at her face as blood stains her fingers. "I can't see my eyes."

"You have to help me, my son's back there," says a gaunt woman whose five-year-old daughter clutches her legs. "I called him and he sounded hurt. He needs an ambulance. I-I-I can't do anything. I-I can't go back there. My tyres have popped and there's nothing I can do. Is there something you can do?"

A queasy-looking man suddenly breaks from the group and falls to his knees, a stream of yellow vomit and bile laced with blood.

Another woman stands there, her face immaculate beauty, her dress embedded in her charred flesh as she stares beautifically at the staff member. She is cradling a baby to her chest. It takes Sarah a moment to realise that the baby, charred and blackened, seems to have partially melted into her arms, its lips, burnt solid, tear a line, pus seeping out, as it struggles to utter a pained cry.

"What's going on? The radio's just nothing now," says another.

"Can I help? I know first aid."

"Do we need to keep going? Where should we go?"

"Terrorists! It's all the terrorists I tell you."

"Help me..."

"I can't stand it. I can't stand it. It flayed the walls clean. It turned the others to ash."

"It's in the sky. Didn't you see it? It's in the sky."

"I think my husband had a heart attack..."

"My son fell and broke his arm but ... what's going on with all these people? Maybe we should just leave."

"It hurts. It hurts so much."

"I'm scared. Where's my mummy? She was in the car and then she wasn't in the car. I had to make it run and I scared."

"Please! Come with me. I had to leave her there. I didn't mean to."

"Won't you help me?"

Sarah springs into action, moving among the casualties in the parking lot and assessing their need for treatment, starting with the ones that look like they're in the worst shape. "We're going to help you," she says to reassure the people, "starting with those who need help the most. The rest of you will be taken in turn." She tags each patient, keeping an eye out for anyone whose life seems in imminent danger. The scene is horrifying, but she tries not to let it get to her and does her job automatically as her mind is bombarded with sensory input.

Her first instinct when she had seen these people was that it must have been a terrorist attack, like one of them said. The memory of the July 7 Tube attacks a few years back is still fresh in her mind, but this seems far worse. Could it be some kind of biological weapon? she wonders, though the symptoms don't look anything like any bioweapon she had ever heard of, nor do they look chemically induced. She remembers the black cloud she had seen earlier and glances up to see if it's getting any closer, thinking it may be connected. We're short on staff as it is, she thinks. How are we going to handle all these people? This is going to be a long day.

The black cloud appears to have come ominously closer, moving at the speed of normal clouds on a moderately windy day, though she feels no wind. A few cars have none but the dead in it, some charred, some seemingly untouched. In one, a foreign blue car, the driver's hands still clutch the steering wheel, his flesh seemed untouched by damage and yet he has no pulse. As she goes to turn away, she sees his eyes move out of the corner of her eye, turning towards her with a clarity in his eyes that belie his corpse-like condition. His lips tremble, as though to speak, or perhaps because of a few random nerve firings.

Sarah immediately begins to apply CPR. "This man needs help now!" she shouts. "He's got no pulse, but I just saw his lips move!"

Roger Woodward is barely conscious when the paramedics storm into his home and drag him away. He is barely able to comprehend the words they say to him as they put him in the ambulance. He is not even aware of whether they put him on a stretcher before or after he was in the ambulance.

He does hear the sirens and see them move about. He does notice a bump and thinks it is the ambulance mounting the pavement. He does catch glimpses through the windows of storm clouds.

The ambulance stops with a sudden jerk and the sounds of hands slapping on metal. Then the doors are opened and another fellow is brought in. They start working on him as well. Through the open door he can see the storm clouds are like a dense, dark fog that flows across the street, transforming all that it touches.

One of the paramedics notices and says something in a high voice before slamming the doors shut. The ambulance lurches forward. This time there is no rhyme nor reason to their movements. He is tossed against the wall, paramedic holding him down, as the ambulance rounds a corner. There are several thuds as the ambulance gets briefly higher and lower. The scrape of what sounds like branches can be heard against the walls.

Tape is brandished and used to line the doors and windows. There is a screech, no, not a screech, a dull thudding sound, no, more than that... It becomes very dark inside the ambulance, a darkness that seems to recede and grow, as though the clouds had passed over the sun, but there was electric lighting here? The darkness never seems to cover it wholly, but attacks part of it.

The paramedics continue their job.

It takes a tremendous effort to open the rusted door, sending flakes of oxidised metal in a shower to the ground. Tears roll down the driver's face as Sarah Carpenter works to get his heart going again. Unfortunately, it seems to have been too late.

None of the doctors at the scene, already busy dealing with tagged individuals, come to aid her. She takes a look inside the car for a moment and notices that the seats are worn nearly beyond repair, stuffing bursting through torn stitches. The woman in the passenger side, younger than the driver, possibly a daughter, is slouched over in her frayed seat belt. In the back are two children and a baby in a specialised seat on the far right behind the driver's chair.

The little boy on the far left seems to be trembling, his eyes focused on the floor of the car, his body held rigid, where all others seem slack. Oddly, the seat beneath him does not appear to be so old and his seatbelt isn't frayed.

Sarah tries to hold back her own tears, but without success. This happened to her every time she lost a patient. She recalls her father's words of comfort to her when he hugged her after the first time, when a patient had died on the operating table when she had been assisting in emergency surgery: You can't save everyone, Sarah. She and the doctors had done everything right, but it still hadn't been enough.

Well, I can bloody well try! she thinks. While it's too late for this man, it's not too late for others. "There's a live one in this car!" she calls as she examines the boy to see how badly he needs treatment and if there's anything she needs to do for him. "Hang in there, son. Can you talk?"

The side of the car that the boy was on was less rusted. The blue paint is clearer and polished over his door and part of the passenger's door. The boy merely trembles in response to her words but as soon as she opens the door, he utters a high-pitched squeal and scrambles free of his seat belt. He starts climbing into the front seat. "Daddy!"

Roger Woodward tries to stay conscious but his body, and mind, is so numb he can barely move or think. He feels like he's sleeping - dreaming. Nothing feels real.

The darkness is overwhelming at times, yet sometimes faintly evident.

Sarah's heart breaks all over again when she sees the boy's reaction. She had been around the same age when her mother had died. She had done everything she could at the time, but it hadn't been enough. Mummy, wake up! she had said. Please, wake up...

"I'm so sorry," says Sarah. "The doctors are going to come, but until then I need you to be a big boy and wait for them." He doesn't look to be injured, so she assigns him a smart tag. She checks the rest of the family out to see if any of the others are still alive and in need of medical attention. If only I had moved faster, she thinks, though she knows that few people are faster than she is.

The fractured wail of an ambulance can be heard above the commotion. The sound sputters and crackles as it comes closer, as though the speakers themselves have suffered some damage. It is out of view, so far, but the sound of it is commanding.

Sarah finds no other living person in the car and is forced to turn aside as a dozen waiting faces demand attention, SMART tags, priority, demanding she attend other cars where more still corpses rest, burnt or not. As she passes one vehicle, the tyre shatters as though the rubber were as brittle as glass, the pieces of rubber slashing across her legs as they pass.

Roger Woodward feels himself pass in and out of consciousness as the ambulance bumps around. At least the shadows were no longer passing over him. Everything felt brighter. A particularly violent lurch makes his stomach contents shift and he vomits over himself and the gurney.

Sarah cries out in pain. Quickly, she rolls up her scrubs and inspects her legs to see if they're bleeding so she can bandage them before resuming her rounds.

Her trousers absorbed most of the damage, leaving her with only a few scratches to deal with.

The ambulance's choked wail sounds ominously closer.

Sarah hurries about her duties, knowing that her injuries are minor and other people need her help a lot more. She continues assessing and tagging patients, keeping an eye out for the ambulance or for anyone else who needs immediate medical attention, heading closer to the sound of the siren as she does so in order to be close to the ambulance when it arrives in case her help is needed.

As Sarah Carpenter breaks through the lines of traffic and the small crowd of desperate people, the soot-covered ambulance swings into view. It appears to be one of the old ambulances that must have been sent off years ago to the crusher's. It's paint is faded and flaked, coming off in thin strips as the ambulance tears forward on a flat tyre. The lights on top of it are busted. The windows are cracked and covered in ash and soot that seems to have gathered especially around the wind-shield wipers. It's so thick, she can hardly see the man inside. The ambulance mounts a patch of lawn, scrapes between two trees and comes to a sudden halt in front of her.

Sarah gasps. "What the bloody hell happened?!" she exclaims, not really expecting an answer. She faces the driver and speaks quickly. "I'll take a look at your patient and assign a priority for treatment, and I'm here if he needs immediate help." She runs to the back of the ambulance to open the door and see what shape the patient is in without waiting for a response.

Sarah speaks through the sooty windows, barely able to catch the silhouette of the man inside, and yet he had somehow managed to drive. Then again, judging by the many dents and prangs that seemed quite fresh in the vehicle's body, he probably had been affected. She darts around to the back of the ambulance without hearing a response and takes hold of the door handle. The metal seems to drain the warmth from her fingers but she tugs on it before noticing. The door seems stuck, somehow, as though the rust were keeping it closed. With a bit more effort on her part, she might be able to yank it open.

Roger feels very dizzy. Have the ambulance stopped? Are we still driving? Am I dead? Roger didn't even know anymore. More darkness covered his eyes.

Sarah continues pulling on the handle, trying to gain whatever leverage she can and wishing she were stronger. "Help me with the door!" she calls. "It's rusted shut!" She knows that the Jaws of Life could cut through the rusted metal, but ironically they'd be inside the ambulance. Still, if she managed to get the door open she could then use them to get the driver's door open - if they're not rusted too, that is. He might be injured too, from the look of him, and it wouldn't do to leave him stuck out in the parking lot with that cloud coming. She has no idea how these vehicles have seemingly aged abnormally quickly, but she suspects the cloud has something to do with it.

With a grunt, Sarah manages to yank the doors open. The rusted hinges screech in protest but she manages to draw them open, revealing thick duct tape on the inside of the doors as though to cover the gaps. The interior is immaculate, with two paramedics and two patients inside. One patient seems to be barely conscious, his eyes fluttering open and then closing against the light. The other patient is either asleep or unconscious.

The two paramedics are unfamiliar to her. Perhaps they belong to another hospital?

"Look, this Mercy Cross?" asks the female paramedic.

"What the hell is going on out there?" asks the male paramedic.

"Yeah," says Sarah quickly as she examines the two patients, "this is Mercy Cross. Someone should have a look at your driver too; he might be injured. You probably know more about what's going on than I do, since it looks like you've been through it. All these vehicles look like they've aged decades in mere minutes, and I suspect that black cloud's the cause. It's getting closer, and we need to make sure everyone's inside before it arrives. Looks like taping up gaps on the doors helps, since you lot came through okay. We've got a full parking lot and I'm prioritizing the patients for treatment. It'll go faster with your help. What's wrong with these two?"

"Karlene Davenport," says the female paramedic in a thick, Australian accent. "This one's an attempted suicide, we reckon," she says, nodding at the barely conscious man. "No idea what this man's problem is. Poisoning? We've done basic treatment on them both. The first seems like he'll be good when the pills wear off. The other one needs his stomach pumped. Hope our driver's okay. Anyway, we gotta get everyone inside and get everything sealed up. Maybe aim for the smaller rooms first. The air ducts'll spread it right throughout the place."

"We're from the Royal London Hospital," says the male paramedic as he hops out of the ambulance. "Don't know what happened to it. Heard some weird ass shit just before the cloud rolled over it." He goes to the front driver's side door and struggles with the handle, finally managing to wrench it open. "Aww, shit."

Sarah can't see what's going on but she can smell something awful. Something that smells a lot like some of the other cars she had inspected.

"I'm Sarah Carpenter, by the way," says Sarah, already running back to the driver's door to see what she can do to help - and dreading what she would see.

At first it appears that the driver is entirely undamaged but then she sees that his eyelids have been peeled back, revealing ashen eye sockets, and from his slightly open mouth come lines of smoke, or ash, as though he had been charred on the inside.

"H-how did he drive us here?" demands the paramedic, whirling on Sarah and grabbing her shoulders. He shook her so violently her teeth rattled, her own hair coming somewhat loose of the pins and hair tie, a few thick strands of hair slapping her across the face. "What the hell is going on here? What have you heard?"

Tell me if Sarah's hair is cut short and I will amend the post.

(I never said how long Sarah's hair is, but I'll say it's shoulder-length, so there's no need to change the post.)

"I-I have no idea," says Sarah, tensing up at his touch. "I don't know any more than you do. I've been busy trying to save people's lives and haven't heard a thing. What have you heard?" She shakes her head and looks him in the eyes. "Look, we don't have time for this. These people need our help! Now, please let go of me!" She waits for him to release her shoulders so she can go back to the patients in the back of the ambulance, but stands ready to protect herself if he tries to hurt her.

He shoves her away from himself with a cry of disgust and marches into the throng.

Still shaking, Sarah returns to the back of the ambulance to help Karlene with her patients. "It was so horrible," she says, "like the driver was burned from the inside out. I think your friend lost it a little back there." She told the paramedic what had happened. "I'll help you move these two."

Karlene Davenport sighs. "These two'll live for now. You keep doing that whole priority thing you do so well." She looks around, a stricken look crossing her delicate features as her eyes catch hold of the black cloud that seems ominously closer. Had the distance been halved between them and the cloud since last Sarah looked? "I don't think we'll have the time to do much else."

"Yeah," says Sarah as she tags the two patients, "I'd better hurry. Tell the hospital staff that everyone should be moved inside stat and to seal all the gaps, and you should grab the duct tape and whatever medical supplies you can when you go. Good luck!" She sprints for the next vehicle, hoping against hope that she can finish before it's too late.

Roger is rolled out on a stretcher when his upturned gaze fixes momentarily on the sun. The dark clouds nibble the edges, moving slowly across, and the light begins to dim. His mind is still too addled to truly understand what's going on but he feels the danger shortly before the brightness forces him to lower his eyes. The paramedic at the end of the stretcher pauses, then starts pushing the stretcher back onto the ambulance.

Sarah has to step out of the way of a van that groans to life as the driver decides to take his chances on the open road. The van slams into two other cars and shoves its way clear. That driver seems to not be the only one with the same idea as other cars lurch forward. A 4WD slams two parked cars, shoving them slowly aside as it attempts to leave the parking lot.

Patients and families and staff members from inside the hospital begin streaming out for their cars. There are people everywhere. Where a moment before was calm, now there is only the grinding of steel.

"Sarah!" screams Karlene Davenport, her voice barely heard over the ruckus.

Sarah turns and races towards the sound of Karlene's voice, doing her best to avoid the traffic. "I'm coming, Karlene!" she shouts, racing as though her life depends on it. While it might not, she knows that someone else's probably does. Did one of these drivers run someone over in their haste to get away? she wonders.

The cars are moving slowly enough, though with a fair amount of force, that Sarah can climb over the bonnet or slide across the boot to keep going. In some places, the traffic is fierce enough that she has to. Thankfully, the ambulance is sitting far enough away from everyone's path that nobody has rammed it.

"We're going to seal up the ambulance," says Karlene. "Wait for it to pass. They'll need us when they declare the all-clear to help with the injured. You have to keep yourself safe, too. We can fit one or two more but that's it. You got five minutes to choose then we're sealing this place up for good and you're on your own."

The male paramedic, who seems to have regained some of his senses, nods as he tends to the two male patients already inside.

OOC: There's enough variety here for you to make up who you choose, if you decide to take that route.

"Okay," says Sarah, catching her breath. "I'll stay inside the ambulance with you lot. I'll tag as many patients as I can while there's time. Call for me again when you want me to come back." She checks her watch, then looks around the parking lot to see if anyone remains who still hasn't been tagged. She also looks to see if the little boy is still around. If he hadn't gone inside the hospital, he must still be out here, and he couldn't stay outside. Hopefully there's enough room in the ambulance for him as well if that's the case.

What few people remain are either tagged, inside the hospital or trying to leave. The little boy is back in the car which he had started in, curled up on his dead father's lap and clinging to him, head buries in his father's chest.

Sarah hurries over to the car where the boy is, her eyes starting to water again. How long had she clung to her mother like that? She mentally berates herself for her failure to save his father's life, but at least she can save the child. If she didn't go back for him, he might not make it into the hospital in time, and even if he did, if he didn't get into a thoroughly sealed room it might not do him any good.

Sarah bends down beside the boy. "Come with me, sweetie," she says. "We need to get into the back of the ambulance. We'll be safe there."

The boy seems almost catatonic, his face still pressed against his father, his body trembling. He doesn't respond to her.

Gently, Sarah tries to pick the boy up and carry him back to the ambulance, ready to call to Karlene and the other paramedic for help if he proves too heavy.

The boy is quite small and easily moved though he holds his body too rigid for easy movement, it isn't particularly difficult to reach the ambulance.

Sarah carefully makes her way back to the ambulance with the child cradled in her arms. "I had found him earlier in one of the cars," she explains when she arrives. "I couldn't do anything for the rest of his family. His father had still been moving when I had gotten there, but he'd had no pulse. I'd tried to revive him, but..." Sarah lowers her head, fighting back the tears.

Karlene just nods and ushers the two inside before starting to carefully seal the rear doors with a furiously concentrated look on her face.

The male paramedic just peers at the window, a look of sadness twisting his face as he chews at his bottom lip. "Mark..."

(OOC: Edited my post.)

Sarah wants to help Karlene seal the doors, but there simply isn't enough room in the confines of the ambulance, so she stands in a corner holding the boy in her arms and trying to stay out of the way. She looks around for any vents to make sure they too are sealed airtight.

Sarah rocks the child in her arms. "My name is Sarah," she says to him quietly. "I'm going to make sure you come through this okay. I've been through the same thing you're going through. When I was about your age, I lost my mum. I was too little to be able to help her, and help arrived too late. I cried for a long time and couldn't let her go. That's why I became a nurse, so I could try to help people. I'm sorry. I wish I could have done more." She sniffles.

Karlene examines her work and then peers outside as people continued to enter and exit the hospital carpark. "I'm sorry..." she murmurs, as the carpark goes dark.

The boy squirms, making little mewling sounds in the back of his throat, his head whipping back and forth. "No, no, no..."

The male paramedic just tends to Roger and the other injured patient.

Roger makes some faint lifesigns, a sort of mumbling whisper "will... will I make it?"

"You're gonna have one hell of a headache," says the male paramedic in a low voice.

"Shh," says the female paramedic, Karlene.

There's a low mechanic whine that can be heard in the distance, coming closer, only it was oddly distorted, at the same time sounding like thousands of bees. The inside of the ambulance seems somewhat familiar and friendly, a little safe oasis of shelving with transparents drawers, filled with medical goods. The two stretchers are comfortable in comparison. Just looking out the windows at the unnatural darkness, broken only by the odd flash of headlights and the lights from the hospital itself, is enough to give a small shiver up one's spine.

There was an odd smell. Like pine needles mixed with antiseptic. The ambulance? Or something else?

Roger kept silent with a look of grief in his eyes.

Sarah hugs the child in her arms. "It's all right," she whispers. "I'm here for you. We'll get through this. We're going to be okay. We're going to be okay." She's trying to convince herself as much as she is him. She thinks about her father and prays that he's somewhere safe. She couldn't bear to lose him too. At the same time, she knows that he must be worried sick about her.

What seems like an eternity passes before the cloud begins to roll over the ambulance and all the while the sound of cracking glass, screams and the terrible buzzing sound gain in volume. A creaking sound can be heard, reminiscent of what she had once heard playing in a nautical museam's recreation of an old galley ship. The walls of the ambulance begin to tremble. The lights within the hospital dim until it is barely a blur as grey and black particles dance between the ambulance window and the car park's end.

Sarah watches through the ambulance window as the dark substance falls, horrified and fascinated at the same time. She had seen its effects before, and she hopes their little lifeboat will keep them safe throughout the storm that is washing over the parking lot and about to reach the hospital. But if they do make it through, she wonders what they will find afterwards.

The two paramedics sit in silence as the screams fade into the distance and a deathly calm falls across the carpark. Things seem so much worse now, isolated in a sea of agonised calm. The hospital lights are dimmed by the material in between. A few wink out. Karlene lights up a cigarette. The little boy trembles, gently humming a broken tune that sounds like "Deck the Halls". It feels so cold. As though the temperature inside the ambulance had dropped by ten degrees.

Sarah shivers a little, thinking about all the people who didn't make it to safety. So many are suffering and dying out there, and there's nothing she can do for them. She continues to hold the boy and listens to his humming, finding some comfort in it. The smoke bothers Sarah when Karlene lights up her cigarette, especially in the confined space, but she says nothing and tolerates it. Under the circumstances, she couldn't blame her for feeling the need. I know if I had some chocolate on me, she thinks, I'd eat it now. Who knows when I'd get another chance?

Bam! The ambulance rocks suddenly and violently as though something heavy had just knocked into it. Bam! Karlene squeals and drops the cigarette onto herself. She fights to knock it off with a flurry of strikes, patting down her uniform as she goes. The male paramedic grabs her, shoving a hand over her mouth. Something, long and thin, whips against the glass, cracking it. It happens too quickly to see what it was.

"Daddy," whimpers the boy.

The adrenaline rouses Roger and he feels almost strong enough to sit up.

OOC: Con Roll x 2 to achieve anything, Roger. You may move, but every major or minor movement you do will need to pass that Con check.

Roger is chocked by the sudden rocking of the ambulance and quickly tries to get to his feet.

[OOC: http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1075088 Success ]

The cramped confines of the ambulance and the presence of the other passengers give him a lot to hold onto and he manages to stand. His vision blurs for a moment and he thinks he has fallen down but he finds himself still standing at the end of it.

Sarah covers the boy's mouth with her hand and whispers "Shhh..." into his ear. Mustn't make a sound, she thinks. If that glass breaks... With her other hand, she gestures at the duct tape and then at the window. Even if she could put the child down and trust him to be quiet, she wouldn't be able to get to the window with the paramedics in the way. Hopefully they would get the idea, though.

The male paramedic nods, his gaunt, pimpled face almost luminescent in the ambulance's interior lights. He gestures to the duct tape in Karlene's hands, then to the window, and then turns his own attention to the ambulance's light, attempting to cover them while Karlene works. Seeing Roger move, he puts a finger over his mouth to signal silence.

Sarah nods too, managing a smile. Yup, he's got it, she thinks. She looks around the interior of the ambulance for any lights near her that need to be covered, clutching the child in her arms tightly. Then she holds him out slightly in case one of the others wants to hold on to him and keep him calm and quiet so she can shroud any lights near her.

Trying to focus his eyes on the other passangers, Roger looks around, still fumbling while trying to sit down.

Roger's knees trembles and he falls noisily into a seated position. A car horn can be heard only a few dozen feet away, its sombre wail distracting and seemingly never-ending, as though something were holding it down.

Sarah gently sways the boy back and forth while keeping his mouth covered, hoping he'll settle down. She continues to look around the ambulance. Sounds like someone pitched forward onto a car horn, she thinks, trying not to dwell on the fate of anyone still outside. At least the noise should draw away the...thing...that hit the ambulance earlier.

The air inside the ambulance seems to be a little colder or perhaps it was just the fear that raised goosebumps on the skin of those inside. The boy mumbles something gameboy and falls silent. The male paramedic introduces himself as Geoff. Karlene finishes taping up the rear window. The horn continues to sound.

Sarah carefully lays the child down on the gurney that Roger had been lying on. "I'm Sarah Carpenter," she says to Roger. "Let me see what I can do to help you." She starts to examine him, looking around for any medical supplies she might need.

Roger seems to be having trouble breathing, his eyes are dilated and his speech (if he speaks) is slurred. His clothing is streaked with vomit. Perhaps it's the shock of being stuck in a tiny ambulance, but Sarah can't seem to figure out what the problem is.

"Sedative overdose," murmurs Karlene. "Less than needed to be fatal. Obviously."

"Thanks," says Sarah. "Sorry. Had a bit of a blonde moment, and the stress hasn't been helping. You mentioned his stomach needs pumping, right?"

"He's improving," says Karlene in a low voice. Sarah has to strain to hear her. "Judging by the rate he's improving at, he really didn't take enough to be worried about. Not considering what's going on. We don't have a stomach pump in this ambulance and if we did, it'd be too noisy to risk having on."

Sarah nods. "Okay," she says quietly. "Maybe we can do something to give him a little relief at least. What about the other one?"

Roger is still very disoriented. He can't hear all that is said but when he hears his own name he simply replies "I'm sorry".

Something heavy can be heard moving outside the ambulance, its footsteps crunching the dirt and broken twigs from the little stretch of garden the ambulance is parked over. Karlene motions for silence.

Sarah freezes and stops speaking. She puts a finger to her lips and puts her other hand over the boy's mouth to make sure he stays silent, then holds absolutely still. I haven't been this terrified since...that night, she thinks. No, I take that back. This is even worse. It's not just me that's in danger now, it's everything and everyone I hold dear. I've got to keep my head together.

Roger tries to look out the windows, if any. Otherwise, he just keeps quiet while listening carefully for the sound outside.

The sounds of heavy movement cease. Roger and Sarah find their breathing comes out in little puffs. The little clouds of condensation show that the unconscious man is still alive, if unmoving. The child utters a whimper. Roger finds that there is a small gap in the masking tape covering the window and peers out into the darkness. He can see the glow of a headlight somewhere out of view, lighting up many soot-like particles. He catches a glimpse of something moving on the ground but he can't be certainwhat it is.

Sarah puts a finger to her lips with her free hand again while keeping the boy's mouth covered with her other hand. She listens intently for any sign of movement outside. Poor kid, she thinks. His loss is even worse than mine. I lost my mum, but he's lost his entire family. I still had my father. I don't know what I would have done if I'd lost him too. I don't know what I'll do if I lose him now. She makes eye contact with the child and tried to look reassuring. I'm all he's got. I failed his father, but I can't fail him too. I have to see him through this.

Roger looks at the little boy and decides not to say anything. He would'nt wanan scare the boy and frankly, he don't even know if he can trust himself anymore.

"I want my gameboy," the little boy murmurs, putting his thumb in his mouth. He begins to weep quietly.

Outside, the sound of rain drops falls briefly against the roof of the ambulance. Either rain drops or leaves, it was impossible to be sure. Karlene gazes up, the cigarette limp between her lips, her face pale and drawn. She trembles a little in the darkness, little puffs of cloud visible in the well-lit interior of the ambulance.

Sarah's eyes brim with tears too. She picks the boy up again and hugs him. "We'll get it later," she whispers in his ear. "Right now there's something really bad outside, and we have to be very quiet so it doesn't hear us."

The boy nods and nuzzles his head in her shoulder. His warmth is comforting in the freezing interior of the ambulance. The metal has become so cold, the two paramedics move to squeeze in on the stretchers just so they can minimize touching anything. The flimsy nurse's uniform Sarah wears provides little protecting against the cold which bites into her skin and seeps into her very bones. Her pulse, hardened by the cold weather, beats violently in her neck almost like a twitch int the muscles. The air stings her nostrils with its icy cold touch. The boy, at least, wore a hoody and thick pants.

Roger feels too numb to truly feel the cold but he can see its effects on the others. At least with the paramedics pressed in beside him, he has their body temperature to keep him warm, even if he can't feel the effects of the chill.

Roger look for a blanket or something else that could keep one warm. If he doesn't find anything he suggests that the the entire crew go search for someplace warmer, for the kid's sake ofcourse. Maybe there's nothing to worry about outside.

Sarah trembles, both from the cold and from fright. When she sees Roger looking around, she nods and looks for some heavy blankets as well: one to wrap around herself and the boy, and additional blankets for the patients and the paramedics.

There are two compact blankets, kept there for use with victims of near-drowning or exposure victims, and while they easily wrap around one person, couldn't easily be wrapped around several. Perhaps two adults squeezing together tightly could share but other than that there was no chance.

Sarah knows that the patients have to come first. She puts one over the unconscious patient and offers the other to Roger. She holds the child close to keep him warm, hoping his clothes will also help insulate him, and tries to keep her teeth from chattering.

Roger gratefully accepted the blanket and wraps it around himself. Although, a few minutes later he hands it to Sarah and the child. He hardly felt the cold anyway.

Time passes. No one speaks.

OOC: Act as you will or tell me how long you are willing to wait before speaking/acting? You may get the time to do as you please. Or you may not...

OOC: If noone have any objections Roger would like to check outside.

Sarah nods in thanks when Roger returns the blanket to her. She wraps it around both the boy and herself. When she sees him move towards the door, she whispers: "Don't open the door or remove any of the tape just yet, but you can look outside. If that stuff is still coming down, we'll need to tape over the rest of the window completely."

Sarah then looks around the interior of the ambulance for a first aid kit she can carry with her, as well as for a scalpel or other cutting instrument she could use to protect herself and the others. Whatever had hit the ambulance earlier could still be out there, though it had seemed so massive that she isn't sure what good having a knife will do. Still, it had to be better than nothing.

The two paramedics have a sort of backpack rig they can carry with them that contains various first aid goods. However, in the transparent drawers are a number of other first aid items that could be put into Sarah's pockets or put into a piece of cloth folded up and tied up at the top, much like the stereotypical tied-up handkerchief on a fictional runaway kid's stick.

As Karlene peels back the tape, it becomes obvious that the darkness is still out there, blotting out the sun. "I don't think it's-"

The doors explode outwards and Karlene is yanked out into the darkness. She screams, her body contorting as it is pulled up over the ambulance itself. There's a thud on the roof, then another one further off. Her screams are cut off abruptly.

Ash floats into the ambulance from the darkness outside.

Sarah reacts quickly, placing the boy down on the gurney and springing for the doors to pull them shut. She winces at the thought of Karlene's fate, but she knows that there is nothing she could do for her at this point. If she were to try, the same thing would happen to her.

The doors swing shut with ease, the ash landing on Sarah's arms and face. It isn't thick enough to be a shroud, more like there are thousands of ash motes dancing in the air. Unfortunately, the violence with which the door was opened has damaged the doors' hinges and the lock. She has to hold them in place to keep them closed. The little boy cries and covers his head.

"Shhh..." hisses Sarah softly, trying to shrug off the ash as best she can while holding the doors in place. She motions to the duct tape with her chin and looks at Roger and Geoff, soundlessly asking for help.

Roger is both mentally numbed and terribly chocked 'cause of what just happened. But he manages to get back to his senses and tapes the door shut with the duct tape. "Wha- What was the thing?"

Sarah shrugs and whispers "shhh" again. She holds the doors shut while Roger secures them with the duct tape, looking at the motes of ash on her skin with worry. What is this going to do to me? she wonders. I'm not dead yet, and I don't feel any different. I was only exposed briefly, but still...if only I had thought to put the blanket over my head and body before going for the doors I could have kept it off of me. Too late now, I guess, but if I hadn't moved fast it would have gotten on everyone. Have to wash myself off once the doors are sealed up.

Once the doors are taped up enough that Sarah no longer needs to hold them closed, she helps tape up every last gap.

Roger's attempt at taping end in failure as much of the tape is folded back on itself, forming a clumpy mess that refuses to stick to the window, and requiring more tape in order to hold it up there. Roger falters and slumps back against the ambulance wall, exhausted by his efforts.

Geoff has backed up against the taped-over grille at the other end of the ambulance, his knees taped up close to himself, his wide eyes flicking from person to person in shock. His blue-tinged lips tremble, his goatee wagging a little as he pulled his jaw out and in almost compulsively.

I could do that instead, thinks Sarah, if I didn't need to hold these doors shut. We have to hurry before that thing that took Karlene comes back for seconds. Poor Karlene... She looks at Roger, her eyes swimming with tears. "Switch places?" she whispers.

It takes some time for Roger to answer but he agrees to try to hold the door shut while Sarah tries to tape it shut.

Roger managesto hold the doors shut as Sarah uses the tape. His muscles tremble with the effort.

Sarah works quickly, first using the tape to make the doors stay shut without Roger needing to hold them in order to give him a chance to rest. When that's done, she makes sure all the gaps are sealed entirely and finally makes sure the windows are completely covered with tape as well.

The doors seem well-covered now, though the weight of the partially unhinged door tugs at the tape menacingly.

Sarah tries to make the tape holding the doors shut as secure as she can. Once she finishes all the taping she can do, she looks around for something sturdy like a metal bar that she can wedge through the handles to keep the doors shut as she continues to hold onto them for dear life. Her muscles ache and her heartbeat pounds in her ears, but she knows must keep herself from becoming unhinged just as much as she must keep the doors from doing the same. These people are counting on her, and she cannot let them down.

There is nothing as sturdy as a metal bar that could fit between the door handles. She must either hold them still or hope the tape can do the same.

Sarah keeps helping Roger hold the doors shut. She can't afford to take the chance that the tape won't hold by itself. If whatever got Karlene comes back, she thinks, I know I could be next - but if these doors don't stay sealed we're all done for.

Time creeps past. The little boy nuzzles next to the seemingly paralysed paramedic. Sarah's muscles tremble, her noses twitch with the early irritation of an oncoming sneeze. Roger feels a wave of nauseas rising and falling. It's hard for him to stay conscious and the effort makes the world tilt crazily on its side, slowly twisting around like he was a drunk on a merry-go-around.

Oh, not now! thinks Sarah. She holds the doors shut with one hand, motioning for Roger to keep helping her with the other before using it to cover her nose and hold it shut. She had heard once that you could prevent a sneeze by pressing your tongue against the roof of your mouth and closing your eyes. She doesn't know if it really works or not, but she figures she might as well try. She cannot afford to sneeze, or the noise could give away their position - though the sounds of her heartbeat and breathing seem plenty loud to her. She remains perfectly silent and listens intently for any sound, ready to grab the doors with her other hand if needed.

Roger just tries to stay conscious unaware of the actions of the others. He holds the doors shut while staring at the floor.

The threat of the sneeze remains. There's the sound of something moving beneath the ambulance. The floor jolts as something is torn out from beneath. Roger gripsthe doors tightly as they start to open and forces them closed. The lights inside the ambulance flickers and goes out.

Geoff switches on a torch. The child's humming grows a little louder, filling the ambulance with its distorted sound. Geoff nudges the child to be quiet and the little boy curls up into a tight, little ball.

Sarah shivers again. She holds onto the doors with one hand while keeping her nostrils pinched shut with the other and her tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth, ready to grab the doors with both hands if they seem like they're about to give. She does open her eyes, however, and looks around at the floor of the ambulance for the source of the sound and any gaps or openings. She desperately wills herself not to sneeze.

Time ticks onward.

Roger listen for any noise outside and try to peek outside through any cracks or windows.

Roger hears nothing through the walls of the ambulance. It seems unusually quiet. The gravity of the situation seems to strike both Rogerand Sarah in the silence. It seems all they can do is ponder and think on the situation. Sarah realises that all she has seen is intensely terrible and despite holding up well considering the circumstances, feels the terror claw at her heart. Despite Roger experiencing less, the fright of what he has seen and what he knows terrifies him.

Sarah continues silently holding onto the doors and watching the floor in case whatever she heard underneath the ambulance tries to break through it. Tears well up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks and mingling with the flecks of ash that had landed there. How many people have died? she thinks. I did what I could, but it wasn't enough. If only I could have done more... She looks at Geoff and the orphan boy whose name she doesn't even know and forces herself to smile. We're going to get through this. We just have to ride out the storm. But deep down Sarah knows that even if they survive, nothing will ever be the same again.

"What do we do?" Geoff whispers.

The real world seems distant as Roger sink into himself in silence.

Sarah shrugs again. "We wait," she whispers back to Geoff. She looks at her arms, dusted with flecks of ash. I've got to get that off of me, she thinks. "Can you take my place?"

Geoff nods and slowly, carefully, moves up to sit beside her and take hold of the doors.

http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/3/30/ ... Heaven.mp3

The ambulance radio in the cab bursts into life with a hiss and crackle of static, or at least, so Sarah and Roger thought. Neither knew much about ambulance design. For all they knew, there was a special car phone that was used. "... Tahehone ... be locked in? Are you ... please ... me out?"

Sarah turns with alarm when she hears the radio go on. Gotta turn that off fast! she thinks. But how? She looks to see if there's a way to access the cab without leaving the ambulance. She glances back to Geoff. "Any way to get up front and turn that off without going outside?" she whispers.

"The cab is normally attached to the rest of the ambulance with nothing in between," says Geoff. "We just used enough tape to block off the area once he'd done his doors in. It was his idea, really. He thought the cab was far harder to be sealed." He lowers his gaze. "Looks like he was right. The area up front is more sealed than taking a walk outside but not by much."

The static from the radio continues, causing the little boy to sit up and stare at the tape strung between, but no more speech comes through. Abruptly, it shuts off.

Sarah nods in thanks, putting her finger to her lips. Looks like the problem solved itself, she thinks. But if it happens again... She lets Geoff hold the door and looks around for some moistened wipes to get the ash off of her face and arms. She doesn't dare run water in a sink if there is one, as the noise would alert...whatever that thing is. Or things, she thinks. What if there's more than one of them? She swallows as quietly as she can, but she wouldn't want to suggest that to the others even if noise weren't a concern.

She finds the moist towellettes she is looking for, although she does need to stretch over the unconscious man to get them. The ash comes away easily, leaving no stain. It is almost as though it were only ash and nothing more peculiar than that.

When Sarah finishes, she disposes of the towellettes in the trash receptacle. She then slips on a pair of disposable gloves and begins to examine the unconscious patient.

The man is unconscious. Apart from that, he seems to be okay. Perhaps he's sleeping?

Roger whisper to Sarah "What are you doing?"

"Trying to see if I can help him," Sarah whispers back.

"Should we call for help?" whispers Geoff, nodding towards the taped off baricade between cab and the rest of them. "We should tell people we're here. They can come and help us." The last part of that sentence is strained, jumping up an octave as fright enters his voice. He leans in towards the door and presses his ear against it, then seems visibly relieved. "It's okay. It's nothing."

Sarah shakes her head. "The only things likely to hear us will kill us," she whispers. "Even if we had a phone or a radio, nobody could survive out there to come get us. We have to wait until the clouds go past."

While she's waiting, Sarah recalls the stethoscope around her neck. Now that there's nothing else to do, she tries to listen to her own heartbeat to see if it really is working. If it is, she expects her pulse to be quite elevated.

Sarah's pulse is somewhat slower than expected.

The radio crackles to life again. The voice begins muted, hidden beneath the crackle of static, but then whole words can be discerned and the voice seems increasingly familiar to Sarah. "... too well, Sarah. I know ... lying ... love you, but ... once and you'll..."

Sarah nearly jumps out of her skin when she hears the voice on the radio, and this time her heartrate does accelerate. I know that voice! she thinks. That's Lyle, but it can't be, it's impossible, he's dead! She clutches the gurney's railing for support. Someone must be playing a cruel prank. But...that's his voice, and those were his exact words. How could anyone else know them? They weren't even on the police report. Only I heard them...and Lyle. Am I imagining things? Sarah shivers, then straightens up. I don't have to be afraid of him any more. The nightmares are over. He can never hurt me again...right?

Roger is startled by the sudden noise. He ask noone in particular "What was that? Who was that?"

Sarah merely raises a finger to her lips and tries to control her breathing. How can I tell these guys about Lyle? she thinks. I only just met them, I can't bloody well just talk about something so personal and traumatic. Maybe I could have told Karlene, but not a couple of strange men.

Something moves against the taped off barrier, bending it in somewhat. There is a click and the ambulance starts to roll backwards.

Sarah braces herself, trembling but taking care not to make a sound. She looks at the doors with wide, frightened eyes, hoping no new gaps have formed.

As the ambulance begins to shift, Geoff's eyes snap wide open, his jaw going slack. Dread fills his veins, surging up from the painful pit of his stomach and touching every nerve. His mouth snaps shut, pain flaring through his teeth and pushing him away from paralyis. His fear is penetrated suddenly by one crisp vision: the ambulance sliding back and the weakened doors slamming into something - something keen and sharp or, at least, rusty and deadly. Beyond this, his mind is blank, his hands clamped upon the handles to hold the door shut until he has some revelation that can save him.

Failing this, he turns to Sarah, his mouth drawn tight, teeth clamped shut, words hissed quickly and quietly between them.
"What do I do, what do I do?"

OOC: Is that ok?

The ambulance continues to roll backwards.

"Unless you can somehow activate the emergency brake from here," Sarah whispers back, "hang on tight and keep those doors sealed." She scoops up the boy in one arm, more worried about the risk of him being injured in a crash than the risk of contimatinating him. Then she wedges herself in a corner and grabs something solid with her free hand, clutching the child snugly to her chest to cushion him from any impact and keep him from flying loose. "Someone should secure the other patient too," she adds.

The ambulance gathers speed as it moves down the slope. It is probably moving no faster than ten or fifteen kilometers per hour but it somehow feels much faster. Just as Sarah finishes speaking, the back of the ambulance smacks into something hard. The ambulance stops abruply. Geoffkeeps his grip on the ambulance doors and manages to keep from being flung forward. Sarah and Roger leans forward with the impact and then are knocked back as their momentum tries to right itself, breaking down some of the sticky tape barricade and revealing some of the cab. Sarah's shoulder was knocked through it but Roger was knocked nearly prostrate, the sedatives still thick in his muscles, so that his head and shoulders were bundled up in the tape, causing it to partially stick to itself. Roger can see the hand brake had been taken off.

Geoff, who is looking back over his shoulder, sees the swirling ash, less thick in the cab but far thicker outside, enter the ambulance. He can also see a pair of headlights in the dark, lighting up motes of soot and ash in the distance. Other than those headlights, he can see nothing but a few vague silhouettes in the darkness, despite it being not quite five o'clock.

Not again! thinks Sarah, placing the boy down on the empty gurney as far from the broken barricade as possible. This time she does think to grab the blanket, shields her own body from the ash with it, and hurriedly uses it to cover the newly formed gap between the back of the ambulance and the cab. "We've got to tape this back up fast," she hisses.

The boy picks up the empty roll of tape. "No more," he says softly.

The only other medical tape in the ambulance is medical tape, used to tape down gauze and the like. The blanket, while somewhat thin, is far too heavy for that.

From the back of the ambulance, they can hear the sound of a chunk of glass snapping off and shattering.

Sarah's breath catches in her throat when she hears the glass break, but she cannot move because she has to keep the blanket held in place. "Geoff, the window," she whispers, jerking her chin towards it.

The tape across the ambulance door windows is still firmly in place. Now that Sarah thinks about it, the glass that had shattered seemed far louder than a small square of glass might suggest.

Sarah is relieved that the seals on the windows are intact, but the sound of the glass breaking still worries her. What could it have been? she wonders. Another vehicles window or windshield? One of the hospital windows? Just how far has the ambulance rolled?

Barely five seconds have passed since the ambulance stopped rolling back. It's cold. Geoff's hands have gone numb as they grip the door handles. Sarah's flesh is goosepimpled and she can't help but tremble. While Roger can hardly feel the cold, he is feeling the effects more strongly than the others and feels quite weary.

In the distance, a couple pairs of bare feet can be heard slapping against linoleum moving away from the ambulance. Then there's a twisted scream, vibrant and terrified, that is choked off almost before it begins.

Sarah swallows as she keeps the blanket pinned in place with both arms. She shivers, as much from fear as from the sensation of cold. The blanket's warmth is helping, but not much. That sounded like linoleum, she thinks. It has to be inside somewhere, probably the hospital itself. I think the parking lot slopes downwards to the ground floor. The breaking glass must have been a nearby window. She tries to remember which way the rear of the ambulance had been facing and which part of the hospital it might have hit.

There is a very good chance that the ambulance has broken through the Accident & Emergency entrance, either the glass double doors or the large glass windows that front it.

Sarah has a pretty good idea of where they are, but she doesn't dare even whisper to the others while there's anything within earshot. If she can hear them, chances are they can hear her. Anything walking around out there couldn't be human.

Then she recalls the announcement earlier telling everyone to go to Accident and Emergency. That must have been where they had all taken shelter. Oh God, she thinks, weeping silently. All those people...we've just exposed them...

As the cold bites into his hands, Geoff bites down on his lip, trying still to hold the doors shut. His teeth sink in, blue lips tinted red, a hint of warmth and bitterness hitting his tongue. Cursing silently, the old thoughts of impacting something sharp and menacing leave him now, soon replaced with fear of the doors been torn from his hands and to find himself pulled out, bent and broken in seconds and..
Can't think like that. Just.. don't.

He finally speaks again, his words quite but a little strained and tinted with fear.
"C-can someone else hold the door now..?"

The only others who might hold the door is the little boy or Roger, who is stilllying prostate on the floor, his head spinning from all that had happened.

A light, breathy whispering sound can be heard coming from inside the vehicle. It seems to center on the unconscious patient, who has been rolled onto his side from the force of the stop, though it doesn't appear like his lips are moving.

Geoff has the torch, currently held in the crook of his elbow as he holds the doors shut with both hands. The ambulance is quite gloomy, due to the torch light aiming at the door.

If someone will take the doors for Geoff, he will move as swift as his frozen joins will allow to check the unconscious man. He lost several good friends bringing these patients here and he isn't going to let them die without a fight.

Geoff finds everyone to be incredibly still. The boy sitting in an awkward position, maintaining a bizarre squat. Sarah, her back to him, holding the curtain up. It is as though time stood still but for him.

Geoff blink. And again, a moment longer.
What in the hell...
Everything seems frozen, snapped up in a photograph of the moment. He has to be sure though. He has to get a better look, make sure, know that this is happening and not that his mind is shattering. Pulling one hand from the handle, the cold tearing at his frozen flesh, he pulls the torch from under his arm and shines it upon the others, looking at each in turn.

They are each frighteningly still. There isn't the slightest tremor in their muscles, nor the merest rise and fall of their chests. In the quiet, there is only his breath, his heart beat, and the whispering that comes from the unconscious patient who lies on his side.

With one hand loath to leave the door, Geoff leans in, turning his ear to the patient, desperately curious to catch some of the whispered words.

Geoff manages to capture the words being muttered by the prostate patient but they sound different, distorted, as though he were speaking underwater. "Shhht! Don't wake up the others. What's your name? I haven't seen you here before." The tone changes, becoming deeper. "I'm worried about these figures, it's too dark to see it properly but, well, how old do you think this is?"

The voice drops and becomes a bare whisper, almost impossible to hear, and yet the tone, the pauses, they were all achingly familiar. "Why did I have to die, Geoff? Why was I the driver? Why did you get to be safe?" The torchlight reveals a silhouette moving behind the blanket, a silhouette that looks suspiciously like the ambulance driver, and yet a silhouette should only function when the light is behind it. It moves back behind the driver seat and out of view.

Then it becomes higher pitched. "You left me out there to die! Why didn't you come try and save me? Isn't that your job? Saving people?" Hands beat against the back door and he feels someone trying to open it.

"No.." Geoff wheezes the word out, remembering the eyes of the driver ."No, M-mark, you're.. you're dead.."
But is he? How did he drive us here?
His own delerius words echo in his head, screaming for some logical answer.
He didn't save Mark.
He didn't save Karlene.
He wouldn't save himself. He should have just studied Law, made Daddy proud and saved himself long before this could've happened.

He forces his hands upon the door handles, dropping the torch in an instant.

No. He couldn't. He never wanted to make his father happy. Never gave a damn about how Dad felt. He couldn't have saved Karlene from that.. that. Nobody could. Everything came so quickly and ended even faster. He couldn't save Mark.
There wasn't time! There's never time!

"What could I have done?"

The tape on the ambulance window bulges inward as though a hand were pressing against the other side, five fingers were distinct.

"Son?" the crackle of a familiar voice on the ambulance radio. "Son? Keep it together, boy. You can get through this."

The hand was reaching in further now, arching back as though to grasp at the inner door handles where his hands were clasped. The hand was delicate, the arm petite, like a woman's, as it bulged through the black tape.

"I.." Geoff closes his eyes tightly, muttering fiercely to himself. "I can! I can do this.. I.. I can save us.. just.. hold together."

With one frozen hand still clamped onto the handle, Geoff tries to grab something - anything - to strike with, trying to grope for the handle of a scalpel, the plastic grips of trauma shears, a syringe - anything with which he can strike at the hand with, if he needs to.

"It'll be ok.. just.. just.. keep it together."

Only the blankets and the two stretchers are within reach. His blindly groping hand grasps an ankle.

Faint moans can be heared from Roger. "I.. I don't feel so good." His words no more than a whisper.

[OOC: Woa, I missed alot. Sorry about that!]

Sarah wishes she could do something to help, but she has to hold the blanket to block the gap or they'll all die. Her muscles ache from the effort and the chill permeates her bones, but she knows she cannot let go no matter what. She glances uneasily back at the others and notices the torch lying on the floor near Geoff's feet. Why has he dropped it? she wonders.

Geoff refuses to let go of the handle to try and find some suitable weapon. Then it strikes him.
The torch!
Kneeling down, one hand still at the handles and his eyes still on the tape, he tries to grab the torch with his freehand but, if he cannot find it soon enough, Geoff will grab hold of the other handle again and hold the doors with all his remaining might.

Geoff's fingers grasp the torch.

Roger uses all of his willpower to try to stand up and be ready for any danger that may lie ahead.

Sarah keeps the blanket pressed tightly over the hole in the barricade, trying her best to ensure there are no gaps and maintaining complete silence. She cranes her neck back to look at the others.

Geoff brings the torch up again, ready to swing it and strike with it if need be. He mutters nonsense to himself, just needing to hear his own voice, to focus on something.

Sarah holds the blanket flush with the barricade, trying to make the seal as airtight as she can. What the bloody hell is happening? she thinks. This is a nightmare, right? It's got to be. But it all feels so real, and in her heart she knows it is. What are those...things...outside? She sheds more tears at the thought of the destruction and chaos that had to be going on all over London. What if it's not just London? What if this is happening all over the world? She doesn't give voice to these fears, though. Not only would that make noise, it would also alarm the others unnecessarily. Got to hang in there. Stiff upper lip and all that. God, please let Daddy be all right.

http://www.fileden.com/files/2007/7/6/1 ... 20Girl.mp3

The air in the ambulance becomes somewhat cooler and yet they find themselves sweating, covered in a slick moisture that is partially their own, and partially the same as what condenses on the interior of the ambulance. The little boy whimpers and covers his face in his hands and the noise catches Geoff, seeming to wake him up a little, as though he were just coming out of a dream.

There are no bizarre sounds coming from inside or out. Geoff hears no more whispers coming from the corpse. The little boy burrows his face in his arms. Sarah's arms are getting tired and beginning to ache because of how cold her arms. Roger feels more awake than before, it seems as though the drugs he had taken are rapidly wearing off.

As strong as Sarah's spirit is, her body can only take so much. She strains against her weariness to hold the blanket in place and looks imploringly at Roger. "Please," she whispers, "help me...I don't know how much longer I can hold this."

Roger who feels much better now replies "Oh, I'm so sorry. I should have thought of that earlier. Ofcourse I'll help." He takes Sarah's place and keep the blanket in place.

Sarah smiles. "It's okay," she whispers back. "You were in pretty bad shape, but it looks like you're doing better. Thanks." She waits until she's certain Roger has a firm grip on the blanket and that he isn't going to have a relapse before she dares release it.

Geoff shakes his head slowly, trying to regain focus and shake loose any touch of delerium that still clings to his mind. What happened? What is happening?

"Don't suppose its safe for me to let go of the door yet?"

Sarah shakes her head no, her loosened hair brushing over her shoulders.

Time passes. The ambulance occasionally uttering a creak of discontent.

Sarah rubs her aching arms and hugs herself to alleviate the cold and her fright. She tries a Tai Chi breathing exercise to help calm herself down.

Minutes creep by. The cold begins to numb their limbs. None of them are dressed for this kind of weather. No London spring can match this kind of cold. It is as though they are sitting in a meat locker. If they remain like this, hypothermia will no doubt set in.

Roger whispers to the others: "We can't stay here like this much longer. We'll freeze to death if we do. We need to get out of here, think of the kid!"

Sarah looks over to Geoff. "This ambulance has got to have a heater, right?" she whispers. "We've just got to turn it on. If we can't do it from here, one of us will have to reach into the cab and do it." She gulps. "I can do it. I'm small and I move very fast. If you tell me where the controls are I can be in and out in seconds. I'll borrow that second blanket to wrap myself in, use a surgical mask to protect my face and goggles if there's a pair here, and I've already got gloves on my hands." She motions to the blanket Roger is holding. "I can get in through there."

"Let's give it a try. Just ler me know when you're ready." When she is ready Roger will remove the planket just enough for Sarah to get through.

Sarah nods. "Where exactly are the controls to turn on the heater?" she asks Geoff softly. "It'll save me precious seconds if I don't have to hunt around for them. Oh, and the power switch for the radio. Might as well turn that off while I'm in there." She takes a surgical mask and puts it on over her face, tying the strings behind her head. Then she roots around, looking for some goggles or something similar to protect her eyes, as well as a pair of scissors just in case she has to defend herself. She tries to keep herself from trembling, terrified of what might happen when she reaches into the cab. The memory of what happened to Karlene is still fresh in her mind. That could have been me, she thinks with a shudder. It still could. She cannot shake the mental image of something awful grabbing her and dragging her off to some terrible fate.

Got to be strong, thinks Sarah. Everyone's counting on me. Once she has found everything she needs that's there to be found and Geoff has told her where to find the power switches, she takes the blanket she had placed over the unconscious man and wraps it around her body, making sure it covers the top of her head and exposes only her face and her gloved hands. I hope he doesn't get too cold. If this works he won't need the blanket any more anyway. She quivers as she approaches the barricade between her and the cab of the ambulance. It's still cold even with the blanket. It shouldn't be so cold in here. And since it is, I shouldn't be sweating so much. She pushes her fears aside and makes herself smile at Roger. "Smoke me a kipper," she whispers, "I'll be back for breakfast." Then she wriggles her upper body through the gap between his blanket and the barricade, reaching into the cab for the controls.

The controls don't respond to her touch. The radio seems dead. The heater seems dead. She remembers the lights failing earlier on. The corpse to her right of the ambulance driver appears to be breathing. She sees no movement of his chest but she can hear it.

Sarah quickly takes the stethoscope from around her neck and tries to listen to his heart.

There is a heart beat.

He's alive! thinks Sarah, excited. But he won't stay that way for long if he remains here. She unbuckles his seatbelt and drags him back towards the makeshift curtain. "The heater doesn't work," she hisses to Roger, "but the driver's still alive somehow! I'm bringing him back!"

On her way out, Sarah looks out the windows to get an idea of the ambulance's surroundings.

Outside there is an oppressive darkness. As she moves backward, flesh sloughs off the ambulance driver, revealing his gleaming jaw bone. Before she can react, the jaw opens to unleash a terrifying scream, revealing a mouth full of fleshy mushrooms. The driver grabs Sarah, hugging her to him in a way that hurts, and attempts to clamp that mouth around hers.

Another scream escapes Sarah's own lips as she tries to break free of the driver's grasp and scuttle back towards the curtain, grateful for the mask covering her mouth and nose and twisting her head to the side to avoid that horrible mouth. She brings up the scissors in desperation and tries to stab him in the hope that it will force him to release her.

Roger alarmed by the sudden noise shouts: "Sarah! What's going on in there?!"

"HELP!!!" shrieks Sarah, struggling with the thing that used to be Mark. She then immediately clenches her jaw shut to prevent it from spitting any of those horrid mushrooms into her mouth, just in case her mask doesn't hold. Her eyes are wide with terror, and tears spill from them and pool inside her goggles. Her face goes pale and her heart pounds in her chest as she fights madly for her life.

Roger tries to pull Sarah out of the cab. "Hang on!" He motions for Geoff to help him.

Geoff, his mind slowed and his body numbed, finally snaps back when he hears Sarah call back. It couldn't be. It is. And what can he do? Hold the doors. Just to be safe. Hold onto the doors. Keep anything else out.

Screw the doors.

Geoff lets go, leaving the torch to hold out the darkness, and heaving himself across the ambulance, he fumbles for any surgical tools that might be used to stab or cut, and moves on to help Sarah.

OOC: Sorry about my recent absence; I've been out of commission lately with a few things.

[OOC: That's okay, and welcome back! You sure picked a good time to return! By the way, Geoff has a +1d4 damage bonus because his STR+SIZ is 25. I decided to go ahead and make my attack roll for this round, since other players have been making their own rolls. Probably would've been better off letting the Keeper do it this time. ]



Sarah tries to plunge the pair of scissors into the creature, but pierces only air. She whimpers in despair, certain that she's done for.

Roger struggles to pull Sarah out but the sedatives from his recent suicide attempt weaken his limbs and make him incapable of it.

Geoff instinctively reaches for one of the surgical knives kept for emergencies and lunges forward towards the struggling pair. His knife catches Mark across the back of the shoulder and draws it upacross the back of the man's neck, releasing a torrent of thick, white pus and blackened blood. The stench is terrible.

Mark utters a terrible screech and lunges forward again, managing to latch his mouth against Sarah's mask. His breath is foul and fetid and his saliva dampens the mask and runs into her mouth. She goes limp as a parlysing effect flows through her limbs almost instantly and is powerless as the grotesque mushrooms begin to tear apart the mask itself. Mark's body quivers, trembles and moves in a bizarre parody of sex as though their mouths rather than genitals were involved.

The child lunges forward and grasps the scizzors that Jill drops, attempting to stab Mark through the ear but Mark moves and the scizzors brush harmlessly past his skull.

OOC: All but Sarah can still attack.

Geoff winces and tries to hold back the urge to vomit - he just cut open Mark! His friend, sliced open at the neck and-
It isn't Mark! Mark is dead.. and.. she will be too soon! Do something!
Steeling himself up, Geoff moves to strike again; wrapping both hands around the handle of the knife, he tries to thrust it into the thing that was his friend.

Roger desperately tries to pull Sarah out of the cab and away from that... thing.

Roger's flails aren't powerful enough now that Mark is firmly in place over Sarah.

Geoff's blow is far more severe, striking the creature between the ribs to where he knew the heart lay, managing to get it deep within its chest. The creature falls limp and trembling.

The little boy attempts to strike himjust as hard but his attacks are clumsy and weak.

God, NO! thinks Sarah as Mark presses his lips against hers through the mask and crushes her in his rough embrace. A wave of numbness washes over her, and she is unable to move a muscle. She involuntarily tries to scream, but nothing happens. When he pins her down and their bodies begin to convulse as one, Sarah suddenly finds herself back on her bed in her old flat on that terrible night, with Lyle on top of her, pressing her down, his lips locked over hers. Only this time she can't fight back. She's completely powerless, alone, and without hope. I imagined all of this! I've been dead the whole time. Lyle raped and murdered me, and this whole thing is just my brain's feverish imagination as I lie dying...or some kind of hellish afterlife. Am I really such a bad person that I should go to hell? I tried to save my mum, I tried to save all the people I lost. I tried my best. Why? WHY? ...I love you, Daddy...

Then Mark stops moving, and Sarah snaps back to reality. I'm not alone, she thinks. I'm not dead...not yet. But those mushrooms are still pressing down on her mask, bulging into her mouth and threatening to rip through it and spill down her throat...and she's still powerless to stop it...

His brain partly locked up with fear, Geoff tries to pull the shuddering body from Sarah, mumbling to keep himself under control.

Sarah is still unable to move, her body still numb. All she can do is stare straight ahead, wide-eyed. Gratitude flows through her for the miraculous rescue and this second - no, third - lease on life. Please, she thinks, get him off me! Hurry! She is relieved that Mark is no longer thrusting up and down on her, but merely having him shaking on top of her and having his mouth on hers sickens her, as does the saliva dripping through the mask and into her mouth and the mushrooms weighing down on it. She feels so dirty, so violated. This is even worse than what Lyle had done to her. At least he had been - technically - human at the time.

Sarah takes reassurance at the sight of Geoff crossing her field of vision and trying to pull the thing that used to be his friend off of her. She had been leery of him at first since he had grabbed her by the shoulders in the parking lot, but now she realizes that she had misjudged him. He has such a good heart, she thinks. He's a true hero. He even managed to plunge a knife into Mark in order to save me - just like I had to stab Lyle in the heart even though I had once cared for him. She feels such a strong connection to Geoff. There is so much she wants to say, but her vocal cords, like the rest of her, remain frozen.

Mark's twitching body is pulled off of her with ease by both Geoff and Roger (I imagine you'd not stop your crusade now) and he collapses onto his side, still shuddering. Almost immediately, Sarah feels strength return to her limbs. The little boy sobs softly. For a long moment that stretches on to a seeming infinity, there is silence. Then one of the doors fall open and the darkness of Accident & Emergency is revealed by the focused glow of the dropped torch.

Sarah's limbs tingle, and she finally recovers enough to roll over and spit the mushrooms away. She pulls off the soggy mask and tosses it aside. Gagging, she rises to her hands and knees. "Oh, God," she moans, leaning into the corner. She retches and vomits, the foul taste still in her mouth. Her breath comes in quick, short gasps. "Thank you, chaps," she wheezes, "Thought I was a goner for sure." She looks at Mark's twitching corpse with a shudder. "Gotta finish him..." She glances back and sees the open door. "Oh no..."

"Are you gonna be ok?" Roger asks Sarah, trying to forget about what he just witnessed.

Sarah nods as she finishes heaving. "I'll be okay..." she manages, "thanks to you blokes. If you hadn't been here I'd have been killed or...or worse...I'll be okay...I'll be okay..." Maybe if I say it enough times I'll believe it myself, she thinks. She smiles at the little boy as she groggily stands up. "You're such a brave lad. You hold onto those scissors; just be careful with them. I'm going to find a real knife like that one." She looks at the scalpel Geoff had had to stab Mark with to rescue her. "I'm so sorry, Geoff...I know he was your friend...I was trying to save him...noticed he was moving...listened to his heart and it was still beating, thought he had to be alive somehow and couldn't be a zombie or anything...I'm such an idiot...I just knew something awful would happen to me in here, but I couldn't have imagined...I was trying to move him when he forced himself on me..."

Sarah tries to fight back the tears, and fails. She meets Geoff's gaze. Can I tell him? she thinks. I've got to. I can never repay him for all he's done for me. It's the least I can do, and he needs to hear this. She takes a deep breath and goes on: "I know this sounds strange, but I know exactly what you're going through. Not all that long ago someone who had once been a good friend turned into a monster...I had no choice but to kill him...I stabbed him in the heart, just like you did..."

Geoff shivers as he thinks over what he has just done as he backs away from the door, wedging himself into a corner. Cutting his friend, defiling the body in such a way. But it isn't Mark. It wasn't Mark. It ceased being him when they got here.
Say it. Know it.

"It's not Mark..." he shakes his head, prodding the think carefully with his foot "I don't think its anything... Not a.. zombie. Not a man. Sure as shit isn't Mark. Its bloody madness and bloody flesh."

One hand holds tight around the knife still, he puts the other hand to his face, rubbing his temples and closing his eyes.

"You did what you could: now and.. then, "he sighs, drained "You couldn't have known... hell, Karlene didn't know. I'm sorry about... I'm sorry."

Geoff pauses, his head lowered, fingers still rubbing at his aching head. Staring at the floor, he speaks again with a jagged edge of certainty, dulled by a hint of fatigue.

"We have to get out of this box..."

"I..." Roger seems lost for a moment, then continues "I agree. I'm starting to feel somewhat... claustrophobic." His lips carried a sad, kind of nervous, smile.

Paul's once shallow breathing crackles into a deep exhalation, pausing at its climax as his eyes flutter open. He stares straight at the ceiling of the ambulance, trying to make sense of where he is. Before his vision even manages to clear, however, he pitches his head to the side suddenly, and weakly opens his mouth to let a mixture of saliva-diluted vomit dribble onto his stretcher. His tear filled eyes search for familiar shapes.

Sarah nods, then hugs Geoff, folding her arms around him and leaning her head against his shoulder. His body heat helps take the edge off the chill in her bones. "It's okay," she says. "You did everything you could too. It's not your fault. You had to do what you did, and you saved me. I'll always be grateful."

Sarah pats Geoff on the back and then breaks away awkwardly. She looks at Mark again, who is still twitching, and backs off from him. She can still feel his crushing weight on top of her, still taste him in her mouth. "Should we just leave him like that? I mean, what if he gets back up? Maybe we should...uh...I...I can do it if you can't...I think..." She shivers. "I can't stay in here either, not with...that. This place is like a tomb. It was nearly my tomb. But we're going to need to collect what we can, and we'll need a plan."

She retreats into the rear of the ambulance, locates some mouthwash, and gargles with it into the sink. Then she gathers a couple of scalpels and enough surgical masks for everybody, and puts on a fresh mask. "We're all going to need these," she says. "If I hadn't been wearing one when he...I was totally paralyzed. His saliva leaked through my mask and into my mouth, but I'm not sure if that's what caused it. He tried to force those digusting mushrooms down my throat. Only the mask stopped them, but it wouldn't have held up much longer. Without it...they might have killed me...or turned me into one of him...or anything. There could be more of those things out there."

Sarah hands a mask each to Geoff and Roger. She gives Roger one of the scalpels and keeps the other for herself. "I'm usually a dab hand with a knife," she says, "but I was so panicky earlier I couldn't hit him." She kneels down beside the boy. "Here, sweetie, let me help you on with this." She puts the mask on over his face and stands up. "We're going to have to bring the unconscious man with us somehow. Can we wake him-" She turns and jumps, startled, when she sees him move. He's not one of them too, is he? she thinks. "H-hello?" she says, her voice cracking.

Accident & Emergency's intercom sparked to life. Beneath the static, a voice can be heard. "Nurse Sarah to Paediatrics Play Room, Nurse Sarah to Paediatrics Play Room," says an oddly toneless and genderless voice.

The little boy snatches up the torch and hugs it to his chest anxiously, uttering a little whimper.

OOC: Your ambulance has smashed into the windows of that large square room to the furthest left of Accident & Emergency.

Sarah puts a hand to her chest, her heart fluttering. She backs up against the empty gurney and clutches it so tightly that her knuckles turn white. "W-who said that?" she gasps, looking around with fear in her eyes. "How can they know I'm here? How can they know my name?" She takes a few deep breaths and tries to calm herself down. The memory of her ordeal is still fresh in her mind. What if it happens again? What if more than one of them come at me? What if there's nobody to help me next time? "I still feel so weak. I daren't go anywhere alone, that's for sure. Since you chaps haven't been to this hospital, I'd better tell you the layout of this place in case...in case something else happens to me. We're in Accident & Emergency, on the ground floor. The Pediatrics Play Room is to the southeast, not far from here. That message could be a trap. Someone...or something...wants me."

A chill runs down Sarah's spine as she remembers the times Lyle had showed up at the hospital to stalk her. He had disguised himself in scrubs, a surgical mask, and a cap. She could never prove it was him, and he would always disappear as soon as she had noticed him. I know he's dead, she thinks, but what if he didn't stay that way? Mark didn't, and I heard Lyle's voice over the radio earlier. She could still hear that voice in her mind, suave and frightening at the same time: "You're mine, Sarah. You belong to me forever."

Sarah collects herself and tries to stand up straight. No, she thinks. It's over. Lyle can't be back. I mean, it's bloody impossible, innit? Yet so many other impossible things are happening. She looks down at the boy. I've got to be strong. Got to be strong, for him. She pulls down her mask and smiles at him. "It's going to be okay," she says, trying to be reassuring. "I'll protect you." Who am I kidding? I can't even protect myself! She grabs some paper towels and uses one to wipe her mouth. Then she briefly lifts her goggles to dab at her eyes and mop up her tears, and wipes her face with a third. She then throws the towels away and puts her mask and goggles back on.

"Let's get what we can before heading out." Sarah takes out a large piece of cloth and starts gathering medical supplies in it, describing the layout of the hospital to the others as she does so. She collects bandages, ointments, and sutures, as well as any remaining masks in case they run into other survivors or need to replace their own. She puts one mask aside for the unconscious man and an extra scalpel for him to use if he wakes up, but she's still too afraid to get too near him. She hands out any other pairs of goggles that are left too. Any scalpels that are left she wraps up so that the blades won't puncture the bundle she's making. She also collects any containers of water, since the water supply might not be safe, and the moist towelletes along with any other supplies that look useful. When she's done, she ties up the cloth into a bundle to carry over her shoulder. She peers nervously out of the ambulance door, then looks back at the man on the gurney. "Are you awake?" she asks, trying to hide her nervousness. "Can you speak?"

Paul mumbles, "Mmm-hmm" and slowly sits up. He brings one of his languid hands from his lap to his face just long enough to blot away some of the tears that have built up there. "Was there some sort of accident?"

Sarah breathes a sigh of relief. Calm down, Sarah, she thinks. You're jumping at shadows. If he had been one of those creatures he wouldn't have spoken, he simply would have tried to put the moves on you. "Not exactly," she tells Paul, wiping up his tears and cleaning his face with some more paper towels. "I don't know how much you've heard us saying or if you remember anything from before you lost consciousness, but I'm guessing not much. My name is Sarah Carpenter. I'm a nurse here at Mercy Cross Hospital. These rather heroic blokes here are Geoff, one of the paramedics who brought you here, Roger, another patient, and-" She motions to each of them in turn and stops when she gets to the boy. "I'm sorry, young fellow, I don't believe you ever said your name.

"Anyway, I know this is going to sound crazy, but these chaps can confirm it's all true. I don't fully understand what's going on myself, but this black cloud has been sweeping over London, raining some sort of ash and doing horrid things to everything in its path. We survived because we sealed ourselves in the ambulance, but the seals have since been breached and it's gotten awfully cold. We're getting ready to leave now." She drapes the blanket she had used earlier over him, cleaning it off first and making sure the side that was not exposed to the ash is the side that touches him. "There's worse news, too. There are...monsters...out there. I'm sorry, but I don't know what else to call them. One of them ripped open the doors earlier and dragged one of the paramedics outside. I don't know what it did to her, but..." Sarah shivers. "I managed to get the doors shut, but then something undid the brake and the ambulance rolled downhill and crashed through the hospital windows. I think it must have been the driver. He...got turned into something hideous. When I went into the cab to try to turn the heater on, he attacked me." She begins to shake, and cannot stop.

"His skin was coming off, and his mouth was full of these hideous mushrooms. He...he...he seized me and..." Sarah looks at her feet. "I couldn't move at all, I was helpless, and he tried to shove those mushrooms down my throat. If I hadn't been wearing a mask like this one, he would have done. Even so it was starting to tear, but the others rescued me before it was too late." She helps him put the extra mask on. "We've all got to wear these, just in case there are any others like him." Then she gives him the spare scalpel she had set aside earlier. "You may need to protect yourself or others. Do you think you can walk?"

Sarah hefts the bundle after making certain that all of the supplies she might need are in there, including some syringes and various medicines, then looks into the gloom outside the door once more. "That's Accident & Emergency out there. That message over the intercom told me to go to the Play Area, which isn't far, but it couldn't be legit. They should have used my last name, not just my first, especially since this is a big hospital and I'm sure I'm not the only nurse named Sarah. It must have come from one of the nurses' stations around the hospital, or possibly the administration office on the top floor." She swallows. "I think we need to check it out, in case there are children there who need our help, but there's no bloody way I'm going by myself. We all should stick together anyhow." She glances back at Geoff and Roger. "Anything else you chaps want to do before we leave?"

The ambulance is full of a variety of emergency equipment: sutures, gauze, needles, all of which are required for a successful First Aid roll when dealing with lacerations. Broken limbs will have to be set the old-fashioned way until they heal. Bruises can be helped with ointment but there are none in the ambulance.

Geoff has a large first aid kit that can be slung over one hip that contains all sorts of vital equipment. There is one torch. There are a selection of cutting implements that count as small knives and deal 1d4 damage. There are two blankets. Whatever is taken must be listed in your inventory, be aware of your pocket space, though.

Paul is still quite sickened from the poison that had knocked him unconscious. He will need a wheelchair to get around as his legs are still quite numb. Fortunately, there is one in view in Accident & Emergency.

Sarah ties up the bundle of sutures, needles, and gauze, along with any surplus surgical masks and knives, containers of water, and moist towelletes. She secures it to the end of something sturdy and slings it over her left shoulder. In her right hand she grips her scalpel. She looks outside with trepidation and shuffles her feet.

"There's a wheelchair out there we can use," she says. "Geoff, can you please bring the torch and help me get it? I'm still feeling kind of woozy and I'm...uh...I'm afraid to go out there by myself after...after what happened."

Roger prepares himself for venturing into the hospital. He brings all the first aid equipment he can fill his pockets with. If there's enough masks he puts two on. When he's finnished with his on preperations he will help the others with whatever preperations they need to make before they leave.

"Oh, good thinking!" says Sarah. She takes the extra masks out of the bundle and passes them out so that everyone has two of them, putting a second one on herself if there's enough left. "Double up, everyone." It won't keep those mushrooms out forever if I get another smooch from hell, she thinks, but they'll last longer than just the one. "Roger, are you sure you're up to helping me fetch the wheelchair? If you're stll feeling the effects of the sedatives maybe Geoff should come with me. If there's one thing my...experience has taught me, it's that nobody should go anywhere alone, not even to the loo. Especially not to the loo; that's a good way to caught with one's pants down. We have to stick together. One of us can carry the bundle of medical supplies and the other can carry the torch. Once we get the wheelchair back here, we can help this fellow into it and be on our way. We can even tie the bundle to the back of the wheelchair."

Sarah finds herself speaking to an empty ambulance. She feels like she has been there for quite some time, alone, abandoned. She can hear the echoes of her fellows voices ringing in her ears but there is no one there, merely the memory of what was once there.

OOC: Handyman, Post in Paradys' thread from now on, even if you refuse to leave the ambulance. All sounds you make will probably filter through in the quiet, anyhow.

The others in the ambulance no longer remember Sarah as ever having been there. They know that they are very cold and that without any heat they will suffer and probably die. The ambulance is as cold as a meat locker and the occupants are starting to look like partially frozen meat. Their cheeks are becoming bright red, their lips a little frosted, and their lunges hurt to breathe, although the pain is reduced by the face masks that hold some of the heat from their out-going breaths and warm, just a little, their incoming breaths.

OOC: Query me if you have any questions as to what's going on. Well, any questions about what your characters knows is going on.

Geoff shakes his head, woefully confused about the events of the last few minutes but somewhat comfortable and thankful for that. He thinks he recalls something where something that was but wasn't Mark had stumbled into the freezing back of the ambulance, groping and grabbing at the air, for something -someone who wasn't... at all. The odd thoughts swirl in Geoff's mind and he finally pushes himself from such ideas.

Things just aren't right here.

Geoff grabs a hold of the torch, thankful to have a hold of something solid.

"We'll... we can't live in this coffin..." he looks to both patients, knowing that he has to be responsible for them, without Karlene. It occurs to Geoff that he has never before felt so alone with people near him. "Its.. a lot to ask, but if you're up to it at all, Roger, could you help me with him?"

Geoff nods towards Paul, hoping that together they might escape the death trap that the ambulance offers. The irony of the ambulance being such a threat to their lives now, to patients and to paramedics, makes him feel sick.

Roger can't really get rid of the feeling that he forgot something important and is continuously haunted by it. When Geoff addresses him Roger doesn't answer right away, as if he didn't hear him. But after a second call Roger leaves the little world in his head to return to reality. "Uh... yeah... I'm ok. Sorry about that, here, let me help you."

A somewhat familiar but unknown voice comes over the Intercom: "Attention everyone! The water supply is contaminated. Do not drink or even touch tap water, or any standing water you come across. Use only water in bottles or other sealed containers. Do not go outside under any circumstances, and avoid all exits or places that are otherwise exposed to the outside. It is extremely dangerous out there, and there are small parasitical organisms that attack people and burrow into their flesh. Once that happens, they are transformed into something no longer human. These creatures are alive and have a pulse, and their mouths are full of fleshy fungal material. They will attempt to seize their victims and lock their mouths over the victims' mouths. If they succeed, the victim is rendered paralysed and helpless, and they will then try to force the fungus down the victims' throats. Keep your distance from them at all costs, and keep your mouths covered at all times! A surgical mask will work, but the fungus will eventually rip through it. Two masks will last longer. Towels could also be used. Do not go anywhere alone if at all possible. If you fall prey to one of these creatures, you will need someone else to get it off of you.

She takes a deep breath and then continues: "There are other strange creatures and phenomena as well. The dark cloud that has covered the hospital is raining down a strange black ash. Its effects are unknown, but you should minimize your exposure to it. It can be wiped off with moist towelettes, but again make sure that you do not use tap water. Metal objects have rusted due to the arrival of this cloud, and have apparently aged decades in rather short order. You may notice that your sense of time is distorted, and people may seem to vanish. You may also see apparitions or hear voices of people you know. On the second floor there was an unknown creature that produced a whistling sound. If it approaches you, run. It is possible to outrun and escape from it. This is Nurse Sarah Carpenter. Stay safe, everyone."

"Oh god. What nightmare is this?" the awed Roger mutters to himself after hearing this familiar voice on the intercom. While asking Geoff what would be best to do know Roger gets that wheelchair for Paul

His footsteps echo loudly in Accident & Emergency. It is though they are the only people around in the entire hospital. The wheelchair, at least, makes a softer sound, as he draws it back toward the ambulance.