Shit... sounds like it's time to leave.
Knock lightly on the connected door and unlock it, then carefully check out the blinds.
(( Going to assume I went to bed dressed. Seems like the thing to do 
Also, look what you've done, Xan! ))
Quickly get dressed. Grab machete (which I snuck into the room the night before, I hope?) and silently knock on [kri's char]'s door. Or open my door if he knocks first.
"Hey man, I think it's mighty time we get outta here.
Thomas slips quietly out of bed, still wearing the now rumpled and sweat smelling suit. He crawls to the door adjoining door and quietly knocks on it until Rico opens it, holding a raised machete in his other hand. He slowly lowers it and looks back out toward his front door and window. Together, both men very quietly slink over to the window and peek out through the blinds. The sky outside is red, stained with pillars of black smoke. In the parking lot of the hotel sits a firetruck, parked diagonally across six spaces, and clearly having run straight into someone's car. The windshield is broken and the emergency lights flicker erratically, damaged to the point of being barely functional. The entire vehicle looks like it's seen more then it's fair share of accidents sideswipes into buildings. Neither can see far enough to the side to tell whats going on several doors down, but they can smell smoke and hear the sound of a scream that abruptly becomes a gurgle and then nothing amidst a series of heavy thudding noises.
What in the blazes is going on out there‽
Samuel hurriedly dresses himself, then spends a few moments looking out the window for any further indication of what's going on.
He then turns to whatever news source might be available - something like this surely wouldn't go unreported for long.
You quickly get yourself dressed in whatever clothing you have laying around, picking up your handgun at the same time, if only for the reassuring weight in your hand. You go over to the window and lean against it, looking down on the dense downtown streets below. The fires seem more concentrated in the distant suburbs and inner city then your side of town, but they're slowly spreading, by the look of it. The APC you saw earlier, or maybe just a similar looking one, is driving down the center of the now deserted streets. There's a man standing half out of a hatch on top of the vehicle with a bullhorn in his hand. You can't hear what he's saying, but he seems to be shouting it at the area in general, rather then anywhere specific. The more you look, the more you can see national guardsmen, sometimes in pairs, sometimes in larger groups, moving amongst the streets. Some are running, carrying what look like fire extinguishers, while others are carrying what are clearly rifles and seem to be patrolling.
You walk to the living room and turn on the television. The same thing is playing on loop on every channel: some sort of announcement being made by an official looking man at a podium.
"...Citizens are urged to remain indoors if possible. Do not open your door to anyone you do not know unless they are part of the National Guard or the police forces. Martial Law has been declared and a curfew is in effect, starting at 5pm this evening. If your building or another building near you is on fire, call 911 and select police assistance. Do NOT select Fire and Rescue. These options have been shut off as of 3 Am this morning. We urge you to stay calm and do not panic..."
Hmmph. Too damned early.
Brian wasn't much for rising early, but it looks like this was the end of sleep, for now. Odd sounds in the distance... should he peek? Should he hide? Better not turn on a light yet, anyway.
Peek outside. If I can't see anything, get a quick breakfast without turning on any lights.
Groggily, you get out of bed and walk to your living room so you can peak through the curtains of the front window. As it turns out, there is something going on outside. One of the houses across from you on the other side of the street is on fire, its shape completely lost within the flame and smoke. And it looks like the fire has already started to spread to the neighboring homes. You just sort of stand there for a moment, bare feet cold on the entrance way tile. You wonder, distantly, if you should call someone, or try to go help.
Waking up to a sight like this wasn't exactly what I'd had in mind when I went to sleep last night.
Then again I never wanted those dreams that haunt even my nightmares, but they intrude nonetheless.
Really, the only word I can think of is 'FUCK.'
Get dressed, find weapon/improvised weapon. I forget if I have a pistol or not.
Check the news to find out what the fuck happened.
You get out of bed and quickly get dressed in whatever clothing you can find, throwing on an odd combo of jeans, poloshirt and flannel long sleeve jacket. You grab your telescoping baton and the sturdiest looking knife in your kitchen before sitting down on the sofa and turning on the television. The same thing is playing on loop on every channel: some sort of announcement being made by an official looking man at a podium.
"...Citizens are urged to remain indoors if possible. Do not open your door to anyone you do not know unless they are part of the National Guard or the police forces. Martial Law has been declared and a curfew is in effect, starting at 5pm this evening. If your building or another building near you is on fire, call 911 and select police assistance. Do NOT select Fire and Rescue. These options have been shut off as of 3 Am this morning. We urge you to stay calm and do not panic..."
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Topic: THE END IS NEAR : Warning: May be more rational than reality. (Read 49769 times)