The sickness has spread and there appeaars to be the danger of a horde breaking out of the area around # 31.The great and the bold of Moor City have decelared they are going to raze Purgatory. The police and the 152nd have been tasked with clearing the shanty town and evacuating those that are well.
At last a game. Some house rules were brought into it. The main one was doubles (sync with Highway's roll). Allows a horde to escape from 31 and random event to occur. The horde takes 3 activations to arrive on the main board and comprises of 1d6 + Rep of zeds. Others rules follow variations within the game.
Turn 1 (Doubles)
The 152nd Recon platoon shook out. Field signals from their leader indicated to PFC’s Profile and Fragetti to check out the first shack whilst the Gunny and their Sergeant made to the next building along.
Sergeant Big Joe Savalas took up the second slot in the Indian file of ‘A’ platoon as they made their way along the right flank of the Regiment. This was his first ‘live’ operation and he felt more comfortable with the Company armoured car in support.
Fragetti put his right foot to the shack door and burst in followed by his colleague, “NATIONAL GUARD!” he screamed to an empty room. Thomas Highway found a similar situation in the ruined shack, as did Guardsmen Dick Fischer and Cowboy Morris of ‘A’ platoon.
A horde shuffled from the property surround number 31.
“Come on out Gamboccini we got the place surrounded!” shouted Lynch at the shebeen. He got no response. The police bided their time.
The internal door of Fisher’s shack proved no barrier.
“Don’t shoot sir, we all OK here.”
Fisher raised his rifle at the couple of civilians he saw cowering in a corner. Morris tentatively covered the two as Fisher ushered them from within.
As they emerged into Purgatory Savalas sighed, “Dick. Take ‘em to the evac point.” He said jerking his head towards the trough that had been so designated.
Tom Profile nonchalantly pushed at a large piece of packing case that acted as a door. He died in a hail of Thompson rounds as he stepped through the gap. His colleague burst into the room and snap fired at a figure hidden in shadows it collapsed before him.
Thomas Highway negotiated his way through the debris. A scream pulled his attention to his right as a matched pair of zeds struggled to get past a collapsed beam. One round and bayonet thrust finished their final acts on earth.
Turn 3 (Doubles)
Surprised by the tell tale rattle of a sub-machine gun Highway realised the rest of his platoon had bitten off more then they were expecting, he grabbed Jones and jogged back to the first shack.
“Look guys,” said Fisher to the couple he'd escorted from the shanty, “just hang on here and once we’ve cleared them shacks we’ll get you outta here.”
“Not so fast soldier boy!”
Dick Fisher spun on the balls of his feet bringing his Springfield to his hip only to be faced by a group of well-armed civilians.
“You boys ain’t goin’ no wheres ‘til you paid da tax.”
“SKIRMISH LINE, ROBERTS GET THAT BEAST UP HERE.”
Fisher glanced to his left as his Sergeant shouted out orders.
The crack of a ‘Saturday-Night Special’ cut through the early morning tension. Young Dick Fisher collapsed blood spouting from a hole in his chest. His two wards fled as fast as they could away from the gangsters.
Al Lynch, “I’ve had enough of this. BOYS! ON MY WHISTLE, TALLY HO!”
The doubles created a gang of 9 (! )looters that entered the fray adjacent to the planned evacuation point and another horde. Shooting had produced some zeds who had yet to be sighted, but were making their way to the players, some coming from the ‘home’ end. The zeds have been unable to move through dice rolls this turn.
Turn 4 (Doubles)
Big Joe gaped as he watched Dick Fisher hit the ground. Joe hadn’t been in Europe and this was the first man that he’d seen shot. He grimaced, anger swelling in his chest. “FIRE! FIRE AT WILL. ROBERTS GET SOME ROUNDS DOWN THERE!”
The National Guardsmen opened fire. Each of their rounds met with target. The heavier banging of Roberts’ Vickers sounded drowning out the lighter snapping of the army’s Springfields. When the gun smoke cleared Big Joe Savalas saw his vengeance had been enacted on seven of the gangsters. The remaining two stood stock still amongst their dead colleagues facing away. Big Joe followed their gaze.
‘A’ Platoon had never been inside the shantytown and Big Joe had never seen the sick. But there they were, a horde of blood stained, raggedy, walking corpses. Joe estimated there were a score or more. A sharp whistle blast shattered his reserve.
Every door on Lil’ Mo’s Sportsman’s Bar flew in as Jack Regan led the way. Morris Gamboccini sat pulling on a contraband stogie with two of his lieutenants sharing a bottle of bourbon.
“Officer Carter, please join us.”
“Stand up and reach for the sky Mo.”
Had one of the cops been with Highway they would have recognised the machine gunner as being Kid Ray Johnston and may have been able to negotiate with the trigger-happy gangster. But they weren’t and Kid Ray released the remainder of his magazine at the two guardsmen. Highway dropped prone behind the corpse of Vincent Fragetti. Stitch Jones gawped at the three blossoming patches of red that decorated his tunic.
Gunny Highway drew a bead and loosed a well aimed round. Kid Ray would cause no more problems for the MCPD. Climbing to his feet Highway checked for vital signs on his downed men. He did it more for himself then in anticipation. He pushed another clip into his magazine, worked the bolt and left.
Corporal Murphy was sharp and alert. His brief was to overwatch Highways building so when two of the sick lurched from behind it a short burst from his BAR despatched them in a cloud of black/red gore.
With the zeds unable to move the players got a decent round. BJ got lucky with his shooting rolls and Jack Regan won a parlay with Lil’ Mo which led to a bloodless surrender. Murphy tidied up some stragglers and another horde was released.
Turn 5 (Doubles!)
Jack Regan led the prisoners out to be welcomed by Sergeant Lynch, “Good to see you boys, now will you be gathering over there.” Jack moved to the left hand corner of ‘The Sportsmans’. A deep growl drew his attention to the brush on the far side of the drive. He steadies his pistol.
“George, the trees yonder.”
George Carter nodded and prepped his shotgun.
Highway, altered by the growl, turned from Donkey Drive and instructed Murphy to cover the tree line also.
“Boys. Hold the line,” Big Joe hissed. ‘A’ platoon holds their breath.
Another no zed move. However more are created by gunfire and (thankfully) all appear on the lower table. There are now 16 zeds on the whole board. Four civilians are generated in the bottom right of the table.
‘A’ platoon sees them first. Another half dozen sick push their way up Donkey Drive. The larger group, to their left, lurches forward and make it’s way towards them.
“ROBERTS! Get the AC over to our left engage that big group if they get any closer.”
Only the zeds and civilians get to move this time. A new horde of 7 appears and the big horde makes its way to the OOF’d gangers. The small (4) horde, near Carter, moves forward as do two other walkers in the top left quadrant.
Turn 7 (Doubles)
Nick Downie had never been a leader but three other blood stained men followed him through the undergrowth. Pitching into full sunlight he spied food, the others followed. Regan, Carter, Highway and Murphy opened up. Round after round slapped into dead flesh until neither Nick nor his followers were recognisable.
“Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph. That’s all we need,” cursed Lynch as he saw ‘The Old Glory’ magazine truck spring into Donkey Drive. It screeched to a halt and the two Street brothers leaped from within.