This Could Be Home

~ The Scouting Mission ~

Log Date: 8/19/3172 [Section Two] - Randall

Right off the bat, some Corrupt had begun peeking out of the shadows searching for their new victims. Unfortunately for them, neither Cadmus nor I planned on being the undead's dinner. We pulled out our weapons designed for close combat and prepared to fight the horde of creatures. 

"Oh, this is gonna be FUN!" I shout as my katana slices cleanly through the chest of a Corrupt in front of me, and Cadmus's machete is mowing down the creatures around him, and by that I mean running for his life while I do all the work saving his sorry excuse for a man's life. 

"Cadmus, come one. Don't be a scaredy cat and just kill these guys already."

"I'm NOT. I'm just luring them to you so that you can take care of them. Close combat is definitely not one of my strong suits. I prefer somewhat of a RANGED fight. Not so..up close and personal with the deadies."

"UGH. Fine, just hurry up. We still do have a mission after all."

"I know, I know. The last guy is heading your way." Cadmus calls out from behind a bush while my sword yet again cuts through the flesh of a Corrupt. Afterwards, the two of us head northwest to the industrial sector to look for some much needed medical supplies. On the way, we of course encounter the occasional plagued victim, take care of them, and move on.

"Okay, there should be a pharmacy up ahead and the left. I mapped it, but didn't get time to explore because there was a horde of undead in the street it's on." I say to Cadmus as we near the items we came for.

"Yeah, the last we thing we need right now is more Corrupt and bloody violence." Cadmus calmy states when he reaches for the pistol at his side just in case, while I do the same. We hear gunshots, and sneak to the edge of the building to look into the street. Standing in a store window, is another survivor struggling to fend off the zombies with his dual pistols due to their numbers. His tall and scrawny frame is more effected by the recoil than either I or Cadmus would be.

"Randall! We have to help him. What's the plan?" Cadmus questions anxiously, eager to help the man about his age in any way he can.

"Okay, climb this ladder behind us and snipe the ones closest to him, and I'll start picking off the ones in the back silently with my katana. If we get to the guy in time, I'll have some questions for who he is and where he came from. He's the second survivor we've seen this WEEK. Something is definitely not right somewhere in the city or possibly even the Harshlands.  Anyways, let's go!" I unsheathe my katana from my back and start killing some zambies.

---Drake P.O.V.---

(A//N: First point of view switch! HURRAH)

"Son of a gun! This was NOT how I planned my supply run. I wonder if there are any others left..." Just then my guns clicked showing that I was out of ammo. Placing the pistols back in their holsters, I switched over to using my kukri knife in my right hand and the machete in the other. Suddenly, gunshots that weren't mine began to kill multiple Corrupt in front of me. 

"What in the world?" I say to myself as I glance up and notice a sniper assisting me from the rooftop of a building across the street. Adverting my eyes back to the issue at hand, even MORE of the plagued creatures are being killed now as a man slightly older than me and in a trenchcoat is slicing through the soft tissue of the undead corpses with his katana. Who are these people?! Something strange is happening with there being survivors this skilled in the middle of a rundown city. A thought crosses my mind, but I push it back considering it to be impossible. I pull my kukri knife out of the throat of a Corrupt in front me, while the last zombie is stabbed through the chest by the mystery man. 

"Why were you guys helping me? Who are you?" I say to the cloaked man who is wiping the fresh blood of the blade of his sword. He just smirks in my direction.

"We could ask you the same thing. Tell us your name and then I will consider giving you our information." The fact that I was stubborn didn't help either, but I gave in and decided to talk if I wanted to find out anything about THEM. 

"Okay, fine. My name is Drake. Now it's my turn. And oh crap do I have some questions for you. Now, do tell me. Where are you guys from, considering normal survivors barely know how to use a pistol, let alone fight like me in close combat?" The same thought from earlier came into my mind and I was starting to think it might actually be real. Just then the man in a trenchcoat spoke up.

"Alright, deal's a deal. My name is Randall, my friend here is Cadmus, and we are scouts from a nearby outpost. And you where do you come from?" 

"I KNEW it. I knew there were other outposts. Again, I'm Drake and I am a ranger from a nearby city that was recently overrun by Corrupt. Their population spiked suddenly, and my squad and the rest of the outpost were slaughtered. I am the only survivor."

"Cadmus here. So, what exactly IS a ranger?" Before I could smartalically correct him, I was stopped by the voice of Randall.

"Dude, a ranger is someone who lives off the land. It's common sense at this point. Being leader of the scout squad, I even have that training. Speaking of such, if you come back to base with us Drake, we could make our own little fort. I know the perfect place for one." 

Inspiration and ideas suddenly burst into my head about what we could do for one. "Okay. I will come back to the base with you. After all, I need a new place to call home anyways." Randall then smiled then said to me words of approval.

"Okay, nice to have a new face around. Welcome to the team, Drake."

---Randall P.O.V.---

What the heck is causing these new faces? And another outpost in a different city?! Something is very wrong about the world. I can feel it in my gut. Maybe Drake and Frank are in fact friends and not foes at all, but caution will be required. At least, until I figure this all out.