Nevada
Hank wiped the blood from his goggles. His clothes, formerly black, were now mostly a quite bright shade of crimson. And he had to say, they smelled something fierce. He pulled his facemask a little tighter than usual. He took the time he had to wipe the blood off of his battleaxe, even though he knew it was completely redundant, considering he likely had to fight more in the imminent future.
He honestly lost track of time since these things invaded. But whatever they were, they came in large numbers and with unadulterated force, and of course it had to be while he was out, too. He moved through the building, picking up a discarded SR-3 from a mauled AAHW Agent. He checked the magazine, finding it full, before slamming it back in, holstering the battleaxe in favor of the high-powered rifle for now.
He moved to the next sliding door, finding it led to the outside. Several more agents, picked apart and decaying geeeted his site, along with a few dead Zerglings. But the main thing that caught his attention was a car, windows shattered, and partially armor plated. He moved towards the card, finding it unlocked, the driver inside speared throrugh the head, key still in the ignition. He pulled the dead body out, shut the door, and started the car, moving off to the distance.
He started the radio, picking up nothing but static and prerecorded messages. He shook his head a little. "Damnit." he muttered under his breath.
A ways later, he saw the spire of a quite large radio tower. Considering the fact that the border of Nevada was likely crawling with the things, a distress message might be the next bet.
The building was quite large. Hank figured it was yet another of the AAHW's bases. Just form the look of it, battle was evident. Dead zerg littered the outside, bullet and claw marks scraping up the side of the building. Hank pulled up, squishing the head of a dead zerg. He opened the car door and closed it quietly, in case there were any people left. He held the SR-3 in a ready position as he entered the first room, finding smashed barricades and dead bodies strewn about. They didn't look caught off guard. He went up to one of the bodies and put a finger on the blood. Still warm. He wiped the finger off, and opend the next door, SR-3 blaring as a Zergling attempted to pounce. THe SR-3's heavy bullets shredded through it.
He moved to the side to avoid the falling body, and lined up sights on two more, another set of bullets puncturing through most of the parts of the Zergling in question. The last tried to skitter swiftly, almost galloping towards him. He dropped the SR-3 and swiveled for a swing with his axe, sending all of his force into the swing, a downward cleave into the creature's head, splitting it in two with a CRACK. He scanned the room for anything else. Nothing of note. He picked up the SR-3 again, checking it's ammo. Five bullets left. Not worth it. He tossed it back to the ground, preferring to pick up a discarded M-416, picking up it's previous owner's filled mags.
The noise he made likely put anything else in the building on alert, and so was Hank. He assumed the controls for the radio tower were likely near the top of the building. He kept this in mind as he breathed in, preparing to move through the next few rooms. If they were on alert, he would have to do this quickly and efficiently. He moved into the next room quickly, metal door sliding open. Three more Zerglings greeting him, ready to pounce. He fired the M-416 in one hand, a rapid spray of bullets impacting two as a sidelong swipefrom his axe sent most of them sprawling to the ground, to be finished off by bullets. He ran into the next room.
The next room had even more, around seven. He continued to spray with the M-416, coutnign his bullets as they fired off in a rapid flurry. Three died by the time the mag was emptied, and the others swarmed. The battleaxe and Hank's body moved with grace and efficiency, dodging blows from their ssharp claws and retorting themwith harsh battleaxe blows, and soon, there was but one person in the room standing. He put the battleaxe on hsi underarm, quickly reloading the M-416, before moving into the next room. Surprisingly, there was no Zerg here, but a single dead agent, and more surprisingly, the radio transmitter. He pushed the dead agent out of the chair he was sitting in and took a seat. The tower was switched off, but turned on with a simple set of flicked switches.
He set the tower's power up as high as he could. "Hello, this is Hank Wimbleton, does anyone respond?" Notihng but static. He quietly cursed. "Repeat, does anyone at all respond?"





