Min/Max Boards

Lily's eyes meet Chuck's. The sudden silence of their surroundings was unnerving. She looks to Johnson and moves in with her back to the group. She aims her gun into the open jungle, waiting for another sign of movement. Damn! she thinks, I hoped we could get further before this moment. Firing their weapons now would only alert more threats if they survived to press forward.

"Sounds fine. I'd prefer not to test the water now. We can make up the time west if we hurry." Lily heads toward the log at a brisk pace, looking and listening with caution. "Viona, is our exit directly north from here? And should we expect any other environmental obstacles?" Lily brushes the hair from her face and pushes her sleeves further up. It's only going to get warmer in here. When she arrives at the fallen tree, Lily judges the condition of the wood and its placement. She begins to climb on the banked edge, testing the slip factor. If safe, she will venture across--body low and hands ready to grab the log if necessary.

Lily follows Hudson closely, keeping her awareness high. The gorgeous faux rain forest was truly breath-taking, but anything can lurk in such luscious surroundings. Lily's deeply set green eyes scan the trees and leaves, but her ears buzz with the fear growing in her stomach. Killer creatures are here somewhere. "And we're to face undead gorillas in a simulation of their natural habitat? How entertaining for you, Rook..."

When she noticed chuck loosen his grip, Lily finds she has been holding her breath since hearing the word, "gorilla." How could they hope to counter attacks from a species that is so many times physically stronger? And it was mutated by the virus! A knot formed in her stomach for more than one reason...
Lily had seriously been considering the validity and dignity in this AI's quest... And she did not fully relinquish that notion. Was the virus affecting her judgement--her morality and sanity even?

She steps forward gingerly, silently, ensuring her clip is full and ready for whatever awaits the group on the other side of the door.

Lily's conscience says no.
Her logic, though, begins churning with all the horrors she saw or heard while she was growing up in NYC--where her father learned to be a cop.... The "dirty beat," he called it. "Always full of scum," he said.
One dark evening coming home from the library, she encountered some of the scum he hated. They were like animals. Their faces even wore snarls and their eyes were like a starved and beaten dog's--deranged and dangerous. Clawing at each other for the food and drink they were stealing from an older homeless man who must have been lucky enough to receive something on the street. These two men saw her, with clean clothes and a nice backpack, and ended the homeless man's struggle with a rough blow to the head. They shoved dirty food into nasty mouths with disgusting hands. And pursued her.
Her heart beat. Twelve years isn't long enough to call a life. It can't end this way. She was terrified. Their longer legs didn't need to run to gain ground. Lily lengthened her strides, trying not to display how frightened her hurry was. Lincoln street. Three more streets til Dad's route. She prayed he was right on the corner where they met every Tuesday night. The men began talking to each other and she stole a glance backward. Her eyes met one set of theirs. Still deranged. More dangerous. One motioned to the other and their pace quickened to a jog. She ran. They were fast--a pace set to catch prey. She yelled, "Leave me alone!" One answered, "You're mine!" Overlapped by the other, "Why are you running, little girl?" They were catching up too quickly. One more street, she thought, but they were right on her tail. She screamed and pushed her legs to move faster. One cackled as he grabbed her backpack, pulling her down. The dirt was hard in her kneecaps and hands. One man pushed the other as they both tried to pull at her hair, her clothes, pushing her face to the ground and touching her legs through her jeans. Then a shot rang through the cold air.
Her father came fully around the corner as the one man fell to the ground, blood running from his chest. The other put his hands up and tried to back away as if innocent. He backed himself to a building and Lily's father smacked his head with the butt of his pistol. He, too, fell to the ground and was handcuffed. Lily got up from the dirty street, believing there was a God...

That memory, so strong with emotions, made her think the Rook could be right. And she had heard worse events. Children gunned down in kindergarten, elderly folk beaten and robbed, violent mobs trampling people while shopping on Black Friday. And the planet suffered, too--plants and animals going extinct for the sake of "modernization" or "civilization." Beautiful landscapes drilled to death for bits of precious minerals. Fossil fuels depleting while renewable sources are ignored and un-funded. Blasphemy, all of it! Even if she no longer believed there was a conscious Creator, she knew this is not how the world should be.  Maybe the Rook, with all his artificial intelligence, had the right idea...

Lily felt guilt for her thoughts. She glanced at the group, hiding her true feelings under yet another mask. What if I join the Rook? Would the party betray her, try to kill her there and now, if she admitted this opinion? Or is the Rook wrong? Could the human race redeem itself in the face of destruction? But, the voice inside asked, more importantly than could--would it?

There is fraction of a second of delay as Lily realizes her body was near-paralyzed with fear and anxiety. She breathes a sigh of relief and takes a tiny step toward the opened door, half-glancing around to ensure the party was moving with her. Indeed they were---they knew the tight time frame. But the group visibly shared her apprehension as they also knew what treacherous traps could await them in another of the Black Rook's rooms... What would it be after poisonous gas? Death by disease or some of the mutated monsters made by the marvelous Parasol Corp.?

She asks aloud, "How many of your rooms must we survive before the vaccine?"

"Aye," Lily says. She steps up toward Viona and mutters quietly, "You'd better not start anything down here that you don't want us to finish. You're on our side now and I will not waste my time on you if I think you're betraying. Time to prove yourself." Lily asks, in a normal tone again, of both Viona and Johnson, "What alternate exits do we have, if any? And where do we shut down the Black Rook? Like Hudson said... time is of the essence."

"No screwdriver here... I don't mind hopping down if we can get through the vent, though." Lily looks to her companions for further assistance and ponders their options to test death yet again. She checks her ammo and stretches her hands to relax, then firm her grip on the Beretta. "If nothing else, there is always Chuck's axe." She immediately recalls the carnage that simple weapon had inflicted upon so many undead. Would that and their few guns be enough to defeat the 100,000 infected and "specimens" of which Johnson spoke? It will have to be, Lily told herself. We have no other choice.

Hm, maybe our playing speed wasn't up to par for him.
Sorry guys... Last week was hectic for me. I've got some junk to handle... /:

Not wanting to excite the guys or the upcoming threat, Lily quietly spits, "Shit, there's a spike-tongued one ahead--maybe 35 feet--on the ceiling. Builder--I'll take point and fire, but Johnson, I want you by my side and that light on as soon as I yell. I bet it can see in the dark and we need to throw it off guard." She smoothly stalks in front of Builder and  pauses near the column.

(Map P.S. from GM)

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