[from
here]Lockdown kicked the door to the hardware store down and barged in. There was already a zombie in here, a big one, who the bounty hunter guessed was the owner of the store. There were also two other zombies with him, so Lockdown was already outnumbered. But that had never stopped the bounty hunter
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Alfred whacked one last zombie aside with his rolling pin, before pushing open the door to the hardware store and slipping inside. He made sure to close the door firmly behind himself, crushing some zombie fingers in the process. He moved through the store, rolling pin held ready to swing, his canvas sack, and its contents, firmly in place on his back.
He heard voices further back in the store, and the sounds of something hitting the floor pretty hard, so he moved towards them cautiously. Just because the zombies where move obvious didn't mean that there weren't people intent on causing harm as well. Or rather, living people. Either way, it never hurt to be cautious. He glanced over his shoulder often enough that it looked as though he might have some sort of nervous tick, but it wouldn't do to have one of those creatures attack him again.
Alfred rounded the corner to see Timothy crushing the hand of a zombie with a curtain rod. There was another man with him. He was taller, and wearing a pair of sunglasses. Well that was certainly interesting. He approached them, a little less concerned about something attacking him from behind.
"Master Timothy. Are you all right?" Alfred asked as he approached the pair. It was a rather loaded question, considering the state Timothy had been in earlier, but Alfred was more concerned with how the boy had been handling the zombie outbreak.
"Good evening, sir." Alfred addressed the other man with a nod, not wishing to appear rude, although he still kept an eye on Tim.
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That would give him a chance to do some investigating if they managed to appropriately secure the building. The approach of an old man, and his manner of addressing the younger man were quite unusual. Master Timothy. Worth noting, that indicated that Tim was from a well-off family. That made his calm in this situation more odd. People didn't keep their calm like this without training and practice, and while the heir of a rich family would need to know how to keep his cool, Wesker doubted it such training would extend to zombies or similar situations in most cases.
"Good evening," Wesker responded, with practiced politeness.
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"I'm afraid that any knowledge of the undead that I possess is entirely theoretical, as I've not been presented with the opportunity to put it into practice until now. However," he turned to Wesker, "if you are, indeed, a zombie expert, perhaps you can tell me if I'm carrying anything that might be particularly effective? I did manage to bring cayenne and black pepper with me. I'm not certain of their effects on the undead, but the living certainly aren't over fond of having a dusting of either thrown into their faces. I have a few different knives and some small sacks of flour. What, sir, would you recommend as our course of immediate action? If there is someplace with less distraction where we might continue to discuss this, perhaps that would be best." He raised an eyebrow pointedly at the renewed efforts of a zombie trying to make its way out of the ground near Timothy's feet.
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He wasn't sure about how long an infection from these zombies would spread, if they were in fact infectious, but it was entirely possible that an infection tonight could cause problems within the next few days or nights. "I think it's time we left," Wesker said when several zombies came around a corner and started coming up behind Tim.
Wesker turned briskly and went for a window. A little broken glass wasn't going to hurt him. He dove through a window and went into a roll. [Going here]
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