Us Against The End

Strike Six – Feeling sixteen again tastes like chicken

*BAM!*

A moment of disorientation, cursing and a fray of misplaced limbs.

"You said you had a frick'n license."

"Oui, I did."

"Really now?"

"I never said it was real."

"Bloody Spy..."

The barrel had contained fuel, or at least something explosive. They had watched in joy and relief as the oversized zombie had gone up in flames.

"Here's to you, frick'n bitch!" Ace had hollered in mirth. If there was alcohol they would have been drinking to a perfectly executed escape.

But one should never count their chicks before they hatch. Or in this case, celebrate before realizing who was in the driver's seat.

They made a spectacular escape, worthy of being in a James Bond movie. The barrel sent rotting flesh and rubble flying behind them. It was the most awesome scene Ace had seen in real life since the second Pyro he'd met got a chicken stuck in his flamethrower.

Of course, at this moment of victory the Spy at the wheel decided to have a celebratory smoke. He casually let go of the steering wheel, fished the lighter out and lit his expensive cigarette. He sat back then, forgetting that he wasn't in an expensive French car, with an expensive driver at the wheel.

They crashed spectacularly into a tree.

In all honesty, no one had expected for things to go down this way, after having escaped quite unscathed from a gigantic hulking giant of a mutated life form. Maybe except Larue, of course, who was always pessimistic and calling out for Veryl to watch the wheel. No one really heard him though.

The Scout was the first to move. Kicking as hard as he could at the driver's seat with their Medic across his lap he magically turned into a fountain of eternal swearing.

"You frick'n fuck of a frick'n fuck'n rat!!!!"

Great use of alliteration too. If only his literature teacher could see him now.

"Quiet!!!" Hissed the one in the driver's seat. His head hurt where it had hit the steering wheel, and his sprained ankle felt more twisted than it had previously. Before dealing with that, and the constant shaking of his Scout-abused seat, he quickly looked at himself in the mirror.

Vanity told him to lift his balaclava a bit to see if there was a mark on his forehead, but professionalism prevented him from doing so. Instead he rolled the seat as far back as it could go, revelling at the sound of pain from where it had hit a knee-high sock clad leg.

"Now, now mates." The resident Sniper adjusted the hat on his head. "No need'ta squabble like fun-deprived sheilas. I say the best solution to this is ta let me drive," He nodded to himself, "been'on the road far longer than you ever will." He nodded to the REDspy.

" 'hat??? Non." Veryl clung to the steering wheel like a child does his brand new toy.

"I think w'all established the fact that y'can't drive, Spy." Said the Aussie dryly.

"I can drive." Insisted the Spy. There wasn't anything Veryl could not accomplish. Oh no. "Zhis iz all your fault." He added, folding his arms. He wanted to cross his legs, but knee met dashboard and he set the leg down, holding a passive face as he let out a groan of pain in his mind.

"What?" The BLUsniper was getting pissed. He was a patient man, usually. He had endured the opposing team's mad Medic's bizarre antics. But this Spy was really wearing that patience down to a thin piece of thread.

"I told you to pick zhe French car, non? But nonononono," A gloved finger waggled in his direction, "you pick zhis, zhis Honda---"

"Why you---!!!" Patience went straight out the window.

This time Ace had to interfere to prevent the men from tearing each other's throats out. It was a strange feeling, since he was usually the one who had to be pulled from a brawl.

"Calm down you fucktards!" He yelled, pulling them apart with a hand on each shoulder.

"Don't touch my suit," Veryl brushed his hand off like it was some splat of an awfully large bird dropping. "just so you know, zhis is your fault as well!!"

Unlike the good Sniper, the Scout wasn't as patient and immediately lunged at the secret agent. "My fault!?? MY FAULT!?? THIS IS ALL YOUR FRICK'N FAULT MAN!"

"Watch zhe suit!!!"

"Back off boy, I call dibs on strangling the wankah!"

The pleasant sounds of the men bonding escalated to the highest of highs when their Medic decided to join in by screaming random words in German.

At this time, Larue decided he had to warn his companions that there were still undead in the current area, and that their racket was attracting them towards the car.

"Mon amis---" He squeaked.

"Schwein!!!!"

"Hold still mate, so I can strangle you properly!"

"Get off my suit, and admit your shortcomings!"

"rumbeißen!!!"

"Zhe undead---"

"I'm gunna bat your frick'n skull in you vain, ungrateful---"

"Geschlecht!"

"Let's say you hold the sneaky wanker down and I---"

"Hey no man, you hold him down and I'll---"

"anscheißen!!!"

Of course, the poor BLUspy's warnings were unheard, as usual.

Eventually the three of them stopped their merry making, when an undead threw itself against the windshield.

They put their little differences aside for a moment. A moment later they were on the road again, with Sniper at the wheel. He was his usual self again, but the Spy still sat with his arms folded, a disgruntled look on his face. Ace noted this new facial expression with a snort. Veryl was used to getting exactly what he wanted back at the fort and probably the academy, but things were a lot different now.

For one, he didn't think the undead would bring them their food at a restaurant.

They'd probably have to make their own food as well. The undead were really lacking in the service sector.

It was a good thing the car only received a large dent in the front from the crash. As Veryl showed them the small map in the notebook he'd pocketed they realized they had a long drive ahead of them.

The next supposed 'safe point' was located in a large city across the sea. A long straight road would lead them to a highway bridge that would bring them across the ocean and back into the hands of safety.

At least, that was the plan.

"But where the hell are we?" Ace had been scrutinizing the map for a while now, but he didn't recognize any of the landmarks. Neither had the Sniper, or the REDspy. And if Veryl couldn't pinpoint a location, well read as he was, there really was no point trying.

" 'hat eev zhis place we are in does not exist???" Inquired Larue, who'd taken a look at the map and was back in his seat, nibbling at the tips of his gloves. " 'hat if we do not really exist???"

"Hold your horses there mate," Laughed the Sniper, "this ain't twilight zone!"

"Not twilight!" Said the Medic, grabbing the map. "Zhis ist Disneyland!!!" He circled a finger around an area on the map, making an imaginary hidden Mickey shape even though there weren't any visible circular islands.

"Maybe you're right, Pepi." Chuckled the Sniper, shaking his head as he did. Like he'd heard such nonsense from the German before, and was already too used to it to try to make sense of it.

"Pepi?" Ace had heard the BLUsniper call their Medic by that name before, but he wasn't really paying attention, bogged down by all the undead and whatnot. "Is that Medic's name?"

"Ja!" Proclaimed the Medic, rearing up and tipping Sniper's hat in a very cowboy-like manner. "I am ze Ezhan, I like riding ze cows."

"I'm not a cowboy, and Eithan's my name, not yours."

"Iz vhat I said. Zhis iz a cowman's hat."

"It's not." Sighed the Aussie.

Larue gave a little giggle at the exchange the two were having about the hat. Ace glanced at him from the corner of his eye. The Spy hadn't laughed or smiled ever since he met him. It was a refreshing sight from the usual 'something is going to kill us all' look.

"Your name's Pepin, not California."

From hats they had transcended to what the Medic's name really was. They sounded like they were old acquaintances revisiting an old topic.

"But ich vant to be ein country." Whined the Medic. He leaned forward, peeking out by Veryl's shoulder. The Spy didn't seem to mind the weight upon his arm. "Can ich be ein country, Spy?"

"As long as if it izn't France." Veryl gave Pepin a pat on the head, taking the opportunity to take the hat off, donning it himself. "You can be Australia, of course."

"No Pepi, you want to be Paris." The Sniper glared at the REDspy, his displeasure becoming more apparent when he found his hat upon that mask-clad head. "Give it, me hat!"

" 'hat, zhis hat?" Veryl played with the hat on his head, displaying a faux clueless expression.

"Yes, that hat. I'll not'ave a Spy, 'specially not a RED one wearing me hat!"

"So I can't wear zhis 'at, but our RED Medic apparently can?"

"Coz Pepin's less of an asshole than you are! Heh."

Veryl ignored the cheeky comment from the Scout. He went straight to the point instead. " 'ow come you of all people know our Medic's name, 'hen even we do not?"

Ace took a moment to think about the question the Spy had put forward. Why was he being so suspicious of the Sniper? Sure, he is, was a BLU, but Pepin probably told him his name when they had met along the way. They weren't in the fort anymore anyway. Secrecy over personal information was no longer necessary.

"He told me!" Growled the Aussie, as he turned to stare at the road straight ahead.

"Back at zhe chicken coop?"

The car veered slightly to the right.

"What chicken coop?" A hand rose up and scratched his chin conspicuously. He saw Pepin opening his mouth to speak in the rear mirror, and grabbed the hat from Veryl's head, tossing it to the doctor. Distracted by the hat, again, the Medic stopped whatever he was about to say.

"Pepi told me."

"Mm hm." The Spy folded his arms, looking at the Sniper with a cocked eyebrow.

"Back there."

"By zhere, you mean at zhe f---"

"In the small city, now stop askin'me ya meaningless questions!" He veered the vehicle roughly towards the left, so that the interrogator more or less slammed into the car door. Instead of being prissy and complaining though, there was a grin on the Spy's face.

It was the type of grin one had when one had successfully guessed the outcome of a thriller, suspense movie. Or in Veryl's case, the type of grin he had when he knew Ace was jumping the bandwagon and reading books like 'Twilight'.

That grin made him think about what the Spy had asked the Sniper. Seemed like harmless questions, but he felt his was missing something...

~*~

"I'm bored." Announced the Medic, plopping down onto Ace's lap, much to his annoyance. They had exchanged names properly by now. "Play vith me! Geeve me your hett." He pawed at the Scout's cap insistently and Ace tried to shake those gloved hands off.

"Stop it man." He shoved at Pepin, but more playfully than forcefully. The German was kind of like the team's pet dog back at the fort. A little strange in the head but friendly, teammates learnt to get used to him after a while. Even Veryl, usually keeping to himself, made it a point to help the Medic do his tie. He wasn't much use healing on the battlefield, but he sure knew how to deal some serious damage with whatever he had.

Scrap 'pet dog'.

He was their hunting hound.

Now that he thought about it, he'd seen very little of the Medic in the past few months. Sometimes he wouldn't see him for days, and they'd think he had perished in battle. But he would pop up again somewhere on the battlefield or in the base, telling them otherwise.

Maybe he was just...playing hide and seek?

He supposed he'd never know.

"Geeve me ze hett!" Pepin was tugging at his headset roughly.

"Ouch, stop it! Fine, I'll give you the frick'n hat!" He shoved the cap into the Medic's face, muffling the triumphant giggles. Beside him he heard more giggling, and turned to glare at Larue.

"What the hell are you laughing at? I have frick'n hat hair don't I? Don't I!??" The Spy stopped laughing and placed his hands over his mouth, nodding diligently.

There was a reason why he never took his hat off once he put it on. He ruffled his hair out in frustration.

"Feral." Said the Medic suddenly, after setting the cap and headset upon his head. There was no response from anyone in the car, though Larue did look out all the windows for something feral following them.

It seemed the other three of them understood that Pepin sometimes said random words. Randomly.

"Feral!" He said again, this time leaning forward and popping his head by Veryl's shoulder again. The Spy blinked, then nodded to himself. Feral. Veryl. Similar sounding, he reasoned with himself.

Well, no, not really. He'd heard his name being mangled by different people before, but this had to be the most twisted.

"Oui, Pepin?" He replied finally, when the German was grinding his uberchin into his shoulder.

"I sing ein song for you, do you know ze song about ze bottles?"

"Bottles?"

"No!" Yelled Sniper, waving his hands madly for Veryl to deny the Medic this song.

The Spy grinned. If this song made the Sniper so unhappy, it must be worth listening to.

"Humour me, bébé."

~*~

The drive wore on. It was straight road, and nothing much else. Nothing much else but singing, of course.

"EEGHTY EGHT BOTTLES OFF BEER ON ZE WALL, EGHTY EGHT BOTTLES OF BEER, TAKE ONE DOWN UND PASS EET AROUND. EGHTY SIEBEN BOTTLES OFF---"

Veryl groaned, holding his head in his hands. He was regretting this. The Aussie didn't even look half as disturbed as he was hoping him to be. It wasn't worth it. He regretted everything!!!

"EEGHTY FUIVE BOTTLES OFF---"

"OHGOD OHGOD JUST SHUT THE HELL UP, SHUT THE FIRCK'N HELL UP!!!" Ace couldn't take much more of this. The Medic had been singing the song for forever. He was almost done the first time, but he had lost count at bottle number thirty six and decided to restart. They tried to turn on the radio, but all they had was static, and no matter how much they cranked up the volume it couldn't drown out the German's singing.

"EEGHTY---"

"SHUT IT!!!!!" The Scout clamped a hand tightly against Pepin's mouth, keeping it there even when he felt teeth pricking his skin through the thick bandages. "Good boy!" He said, even as the 'good boy' struggled to get him in the privates. "Now stay this way!"

"Ah yes," Chuckled Eithan, "This reminds me of tha'old days, back when I was sixteen."

"Poor thing." Lamented Veryl, voice dripping with fake sympathy. "Already in the looney 'ouse filled 'ith singing madmen at sixteen?"

"No, me an' my mates would go on long roadtrips jus'fer fun. Sang songs like this together. Pissed the hell outta each other we did."

"I do 'ope you were not zhe one who taught our Medic zhis song."

The Sniper didn't answer, instead asking, "What were you others doing at sixteen?"

"I 'as at zhe academy." The BLUspy was the first to answer. The academy. From what Ace had heard back at the cafe, Larue didn't exactly have the time of his life there. "But Veryl 'as zhere 'ith me. It 'as better zhen." He didn't say what was better then, but Ace more or less knew from what bits and pieces the Spy had told him.

Mainly it had to do with bullying.

"Mmhm." Said Veryl, stopping at that. As usual the Frenchman was unwilling to indulge others with tales of his persona; background.

"Rows und rows of vhite." Said Pepin, when Ace's hand slackened against his mouth. Rows of white? Was that an answer to the Sniper's question? It didn't make any sense though. Most likely just another random string of words.

"Was back home." The Scout was the last to speak. The others had all fallen completely silent now, and were probably caught up too much in other thoughts to hear him, but he spoke anyway. "We were all there, then."

Home. How long had it been since he'd gone back home? About two and a half years? There were others in the team who had been at the fort longer than him. Veryl for instance. He seemed almost veteran at the fort. The Medic was there before him as well. The Sniper himself looked as if he'd seen far too many victims through the scope of his rifle. And Larue...wasn't at the fort for very long. But he didn't once mention his family when he talked about the academy. Did the Spies there ever get to go home every once in a while?

Maybe some of them didn't even have families to go back to.

Just when Ace was getting sentimental, the car jerked to an abrupt stop and threw him into the front. His voice came out as a strained "Oof!", the hand brake sticking into his gut. "Th-the hell happened?" He asked, as he was tugged harshly back into his seat by the helpful Medic. "Oof!!", again.

" 'hat 'appened?" The Scout's question was repeated with a French accent. Eithan leaned back in his seat and gave a dreadful sigh. He turned the key and the car gave a hopeful whir, but fell silent again in a second.

"Fuel's out." Replied the Sniper.

"Pfft is zhat all." Said The Spy, the worry on his face fading. He reached into his pocket and drew out the notebook. Flipping the pages with a forefinger he found the map and tossed it into Eithan's lap. "Zhere's a petrol station some'here along zhe road."

"Is there now?" He looked at the Spy from the side of his glasses. "I'sppose you're expecting us to go out an'get some while you stay here like a lazy bummer."

"Not lazy, I'm doing you all a faveur by watching zhe car."

"Whatever man." Ace reached over Pepin and opened the door, rolling the Medic out with a thump onto the road. He got out and stretched out his limbs. "Legs were gettin' stiff, ugh."

"Ya better not pull anything funny on us." Warned the Sniper as he, too, got out of the car.

"I won't, as long as if 'Rue is with you."

"I-I 'ant to stay 'ere!!" Cried the Spy, clutching to his seat belt.

"Non, go out and get some fresh 'air. Get me some ice."

Ace dragged the reluctant Spy out of the car. "Don't worry man," He reassured, "you got Ace with ya."

The two of them followed after Eithan, with Pepin behind them. He walked along the white line in the middle of the road, with his hands stretched out, saw held in one of them.

It was hot. Strangely the Autumn air they had felt earlier on was washed away by the blaring Sun. Around them there was nothing but barren land. They saw a few zombies in the distance, but they didn't seem to notice them.

As they walked along he found the Spy using his right arm as a shield from the bright light. He grinned, remembering how his ex-girlfriend had done the same on bright sunny days. That was a long time ago though. When he was still in high school. He looked down and noticed green eyes studying the ink in his skin.

"Like it?" He asked out of the blue, startling the other. Larue cast his eyes down, as if guilty for looking without permission. "I like it." He said softly, still staring at his moving feet. "I like zhe rose."

"Yeah?" Ace beamed, flexing his arm. It was a tattoo of a rose, its thorny vines winding around a baseball bat, leading down through a letter 'A'. "My bro did it. He's a tattoo artist." He added proudly.

"You 'ave a brozher?"

"Hell, I've got seven of them frick'n assholes. Last of the pack." He thumped his chest with a fist for emphasis. "But they're cool to have around."

Those eyes glanced at him for a second before returning to their fixed points on the ground. "Zhat eez nice." And the Spy gave a little melancholic smile.

"Hey, you know what?"

"Hm?" Larue looked up then.

"You should smile more often. Looks good on ya."

"Huh?"

"Just sayin'..." The Scout scratched his head, then turned and ran towards Pepin, who had fallen behind. "Pepin, come on man!"

The Spy stood there, blinking his large, green eyes.

~*~

It was a 15 minute walk. Only because they had to constantly backtrack for the Medic, who would stop by a stone on the road, a clump of feathers, a thorn bush and basically anything that caught his eye. Ace could have easily made the distance in three minutes.

The petrol station was like any usual outpost, with a little minimart. They filled an empty gas can up. Two, for safe measure.

"That should do it."

*GROOOOOOOOOOOWL*

Larue jumped, grabbing Ace's arm. He looked around frantically, chewing on a gloved finger. " 'hat 'as zhat!!?"

*GROOOOOOOOOOOOOOWL* Came the sound again. Larue looked like he wanted to sink into Ace's arm right then.

"Ich habe Hunger." Said Pepin, sadly, almost. Ace had never seen the Medic so upset for all the time he'd known him.

"What? What's the matter man?"

"Oh he's just hungry." Eithan capped the second can they'd filled before turning to the German. "No need'ta pull a long face, that minimart should have some food."

"Food?" Remarked the Medic, brightening up with his toothy grin.

"Now Pepi, we'll go in together, in case there's some---Pepi?"

Pepin bounded up towards the Minimart, crashing through the glass door and landing flat on the floor.

"Pepi you crazy bastard!!" They ran up to him, avoiding the glass he was shaking off as they helped him up.

"Use the door man!!" Scout was kind of glad he had given him his cap. It'd probably saved them the task of babysitting a Medic with head injuries.

" I did!!!" Laughed the Medic. The blood on the cuts in his face seemed to make him especially happy. "It zaid 'push'!"

"Ya call that a push?"

Ace looked around the shelves of the minimart as the Sniper fussed over Pepin, brushing shards of glass off him. There wasn't much left really. People must have passed by here before.

"Like beans, Pepin?" Asked Ace. Nobody seemed to like them, the shelves were still stocked with the cans of baked beans.

"Ja. Pepin like ze beans."

"Here, stuff your face." He tossed the Medic a can after checking the expiry date, watching as he cleanly chopped the can in half, its contents spilling out like liquefied jelly. The German grinned at his handiwork, then began to eat off the floor with his hands. Oh yes, he liked to use his hands for everything.

Ace wanted to tell the Medic not to eat off the probably filthy floor, but countless people must've told him that before, to little effect.

After raiding through the minimart completely they gathered round to take count of their spoils.

"What d'ya got, Ace."

"Hmm, lemme think. Uh, beans, beans, beans, and more frick'n beans."

"Ich mag Beans!!!" Said the German happily, red sauce all over his face.

"Of course you do, Pepi."

"What did you get Eithan?"

"Water, an'a can of tuna." The Sniper tossed the can into the pile of baked beans.

"Oooh, that's precious. Larue? Where the hell are you?"

A head popped out from behind the counter. "Zhere isn't any ice. Or cigarettes." He sounded a little disappointed. "But zhere's money."

"Don't think we'll be needin' much'a that." Chuckled the Aussie.

"Guess that's it then. Don't think Veryl will be pleased with the beans." Ace packed the cans into his bag, counting them as he did.

"Bah. Bloody Spy can have the tuna. Well shall we?" Eithan made to stand up, but was pulled down to the ground again by Larue, who had, quite surprisingly, made a stealthy dash from the counter to where they were gathered by the shelves.

"S-shhhh!!!"

"Gave me a fright Spy, what is it???"

"Z-zhe birds..."

"What? Speak up boy!" He noticed the hand upon his arm was trembling, and that the Spy wasn't even looking at him. His eyes followed his line of sight, and---

"Holy dooley!" He exclaimed, in a voice much softer than before. Outside the minimart, hundreds, no, thousands of pigeons perched. They weren't normal pigeons, mind you. Their feathers were rotting off, some had bones sticking out here and there. It seemed whatever this plague was it wasn't entitled only to human beings. They sat around the minimart, watching. Watching them.

"Okay this is ridiculous, pigeons instead of crows????" Ace complained, angry that his life wasn't following the exact details of Resident Evil Apocalypse. If he survived this, telling the tale of how he had fought off a horde of zombie pigeons just wasn't as exciting as a horde of zombie crows.

"Shhhhhh!" Hissed the Sniper. "We need to be very careful about how we do this---"

"HALLO MÄDCHEN!" Hollered the one and only, who was standing and waving his arms about. Sniper and Scout had a second to sink their faces into their hands before grabbing the madman and the Spy(who was rooted to the ground).

The pigeons gave an angry coo in unison and charged at the minimart.

"OH SHIT OH FUCK!!!" Ace batted at the few that had flown in through the broken door.

"The bathroom!!!" Yelled the Sniper.

They tumbled through the door one by one, Eithan shutting it tightly behind him. And not a second too soon, because they could hear the glass windows crash in outside, and the flutter of many pairs of wings.

"Okay mates, just stay calm, maybe they'll go away..."

Larue gave a sharp shriek. There was a stinking corpse of a man in one of the stalls, and his eyes had been gouged out. The Spy's sound seemed to attract the birds, and the door began to shake with the sound of pecking.

"Or maybe not." Sighed Eithan. "There's gotta be a way outta this shit hole!"

"The window!" Ace went over and reached up, pushing it open.

"Good on'ya mate! Any of them pigeons out there?"

"It's too high up for me to see. Larue! C'mon!"

"M-moi???"

"Yes 'moi', get your ass over here!"

The Scout had Larue cloak himself, and propped him up so he could look out the window. As they did so the door began to creak.

"Any of those bitches out there?" He asked. "I mean the birds by the way." He added, before the Apy could ask.

"N-non."

"Good. Stay cloaked and shut the hell up!" He gave a little boost and tossed the Spy out the window. He knew the Spy would rather hide out here in the toilet.

"Eithan you're next!"

"Yeah?"

"I can't have Pepin there alone with Larue. I bet he'll mess things up without supervision."

"Good point."

The Aussie was the next one out the window. He could hear the man telling the Spy it was going to be okay.

"Pepin. C'mon doc!" He growled, grabbing the Medic's arm and pulling him away from the corpse. "You wanna play trampoline?"

"Ja, I do!"

He gave him a boost out the window. Then he proceeded to launch himself out by kicking against the wall below the window. He fell with a roll, recovering to his feet quickly.

"Best hurry, the pigeons won't be fooled for long. Smart ones, those birds." The Sniper passed him something he couldn't see, it felt like a hand. "That one's yours. I'll take the fruit tart." He was holding the Medic tightly by the wrist. Ace knew he himself was holding Larue's hand.

"So it's a mad dash, huh?"

"Got a better plan?"

"Runnin's all I got."

He heard a whimper and gave the invisible hand a squeeze. "Oh shut up, I won't run too fast."

They heard the door hinges breaking behind them.

"On three..."

The door opened with a loud crash and a flurry of wings.

"THREE!!!!" Yelled the Scout, and they shot off as fast as their legs could carry them, rounding back to the front of the minimart and getting back onto the road they had come from. The pigeons proved to be a little like their human counterparts after all, they were still in the toilet pecking around for the four living humans.

Some were a tad bit smarter though, they had flown out the window and were giving chase. Ace had never seen a pigeon fly so fast before.

The second time he turned to look, there was a small cloud of the birds following them. More of the flock were catching up really fast. He tugged at the Spy behind him, whose cloak had worn off with the strain of trying to catch up. "Hurry up old man!" He shouted at the other two behind them. "I can see the car!"

"Old??? Who's old???" Huffed the Sniper angrily, joining the Scout and Spy by the car. There was no time to catch their breaths though. One could see a steadily growing cloud of grey approaching the little car.

" 'hat iz zhat!?" Demanded Veryl, in regard to the dark cloud.

"Not a pink cloud of death that's fer sure. Stay in the car!" He shoved Pepin into the car after Larue, and went to the back to help Ace fill the tank up.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck why pigeons!???"

There was a loud bang, and a pigeon fell dead upon Ace's shoulder. He shook it off, yelling profanities. Veryl grinned at him from the window.

"Not a bad shot." Commented the Sniper, as he got back into the driver's seat.

"Merci. Now I think we should get to zhe driving---" A group of the undead birds descended upon the car, pecking furiously at the windscreen. "Merde! 'urry up!!"

The engine rumbled with the addition of new fuel, and the car rolled into action. The birds didn't relent though. They continued their assault, cracking the windows bit by bit. The car vibrated with the pecking.

"Oh shit what do we do now? The car isn't gunna hold out long!" A hole appeared in the car's roof, a beak poking through, as if to prove his point.

"Ich mag chickin!" Laughed the Medic. He was having the time of his life. When was he not really?

"Zhe wooden bridge up ahead!" Said Veryl, referring to the map. "If we jump out of zhe car and under zhe bridge---"

"Using the car as a diversion eh? I like how you think, even if you're a gib of a Spy."

The window on the left smashed open. Larue shrieked, ducking as a pigeon made its way into the car.

"Chickin!" Exclaimed Pepin, and he swung his saw wildly in the enclosed space, trying to nab the tasty little morsel. He managed to nick Ace in the arm for all his efforts.

"Oh for fuck's sake, put that thing away!"

"No weapons in the car, Pepi!" Chided Eithan, as he tried to manoeuvre the car through the feathered folk. No sooner had he said that a loud bang shook the car and a bullet grazed the tip of his hat. The Sniper took his eyes off the road(he couldn't really see much anyway) to glare at the guilty. Veryl gave him a sheepish grin. "He 'as getting on my suit."

"Guys, GUYS! I THINK THAT'S THE BRIDGE UP AHEAD MAN!"

It was. If one looked carefully through the gaps between the birds one could hazily make out a wooden bridge.

The Aussie hit the accelerator and went at full speed. The moment the wheels hit wooden surface they opened the doors and tumbled out of the car, quickly making their way under the bridge. Their ploy worked, to a certain extent. Most of the flock followed the car down the road, but a group of stragglers remained airborne above the bridge. It didn't sound like they were leaving anytime soon, either. If they didn't leave, there was no way for them to go anywhere.

"Eithan!" Veryl caught the Aussie's attention, shaking the second gas can they had filled. No words needed to be exchanged. The gas can was tossed into the birds and a shot from the rifle followed shortly after. It rained rotten flesh and feathers as the men took a moment to catch their breath under the bridge.

"Pigeons." Said the Sniper breathlessly, picking up a severed wing . "Roasted quite a few over the barbie before."

"Yeah?" Ace prodded a plump feathered ass with his bat. "What's it taste like?"

"Tastes like chicken." He chuckled, then added, tipping his hat, "Makes me feel sixteen again."

~*~

What's this, an update!?

Yes well, I'm sorry it reads like crap, and I'm sorry it's so looooooooooong. My chapters just keep getting longer and draggier. Ohgod why.

Notes:

1) What is that damned Pepin saying???

I'd love to translate all those randomly put German words for you guys, but I'm a little too tired now. Say so in a comment and I will, though. 8)

2) No farmhouse unfortunately. 8'C Maybe...

3) Eithan is pronounced Eight-ton btw. 8)

Hope it was worth your wait people!