The USS Harry S. Truman.(ZombieApocalypseSurvivor)

[N for Notorious]

The USS Harry S. Truman was in it's home port of Richmond, Virginia when things went south. They hd orders to bug out and link up with the rest of the Atlanic Fleet at an undisclosed location. Upon hearing these orders, the captain, who had ordered his Carrier ship out and follow orders, had a change of conscience.

"Alright sailors, we have a choice to make," his voice boomed over the intercoms as the sailors and their families scurried throughout the ship, "We can either save our hides and link up with Atlantic Fleet, or we can fulfill our duty as servicemen and help as many of those poor stranded b****rds on the shore as we can. What do you say?"
All through the hull and deck of the ship, you could hear mixed shouts and responses. However, the majority of them shouted something in the positive. A sailor entered the bridge, saying that the crew had voted majority yes to try and save as many people as they could. The captain turned course around, sailing back to Norfolk to rescue people. There was mass chaos that marked the shoreline of Virginia. When they pulled into port, Marines immediatley set up a perimeter so people could be quickly examined and then sent on board. Of the approximatley 5,680 approximate maximum servicemen capacity, only about 3,000 were aboard the ship with their families. Combined with the refugees rescued, the USS Harry S. Truman set sail with a total of almost 7,500 total people. They set sail away from the country they once called home.

It is now 1 1/2 years after the Great Panic. The deck of the USS Harry S. Truman is cramped with tents and shacks made from scrap metal, blankets, aircraft parts, and even parts of the shi itself that were unessential to survival. Below decks are just as crowded, with hardly any room to move without bumping someone. Every week, a patrol is sent out to the nearby land to search for much needed supplies and the possibility of survivors. Both of the the previous are in scarce supply, and sometimes the Patrols return with nothing, or sometimes they don't return at all. Anchored 100 miles off the coast of massachusetts, the cold of the Atlantic air combined with the bitter cold of winter takes it's toll on the ship. People are jsut barely clinging to life, with little food and water, and almsot no haven from t cold, they often sleep in large groups to stay warm.

(This RP is meant to bring forth other aspects of the zombie apocalypse than jsut zombies. There is little food and water, almost no medicine, so you face hunger, thirst, disease. And you're also on the ocean, so you also face exposure to the elements, and also Mother Nature. Winer storms, tsunamis, and tidal waves can occur randomly, as well as technical failures and accidents. This whole RP, as stated before, is to emphasize the other half of surviving the zombie apocalypse besides zombies. Zombies will be introduced to the Carrier, but not right away. Andplease, for the love of God, don't everyone pick to be a sailor or a marine with a bazooka that kicks ***. The msot you can be is a guard for right now, otherwise just civilians. Remember, there is little room for anything except what you need to survive, so no like hidden stashes of like guns or anything like that.)  

[ZombieApocalypseSurvivor]

"Hey! break it up break it up!" Joe said, pushing the two men apart, "What exactly is the problem here?!"

Joe listened to the man's story about how the other man had stolen his food.

"Is this true?" Joe asked, moving to a more comforstable position as he moved his MP5 down to his side as he turned to the other man.

"Fred, this is the last time I'm going to tell you. If you steal from people, you get thrown in the brig. You kow the rules. We're barely ahnging on as it is, we don't need to ahve to worry about hiding our food rations, too."

Joe turned around, whistling to another guard, "Take Fred here to the brig!
Two days, one-third rations. We'll see how he likes not having anything to eat."

Joe turned to his partner at his side as the other guard led Fred away.

"It's getting worse," he whispered to his guard buddy, Jack, "There are more and more fights over food every day. I wonder how long it will be before they notice that our rations are almost dry."  

[Fondateur]

Richter was leaning against a wall with one hand on his MP5 and the other in his pocket. "With s**t like that happening they probably already figured it out...You know I think we should chuck all the fatties...That would solve the problem." He snickered to himself and pulled a cigarette from a pack in his sleeve. He felt his pockets for his lighter and turned to Joe. "Hey man you gotta light?"  

[ZombieApocalypseSurvivor]

"Sure," Joe said, holding up his hand as if he was handing Jack (Richter) a lighter "I have an invisible one right here, for all those invisible cig's I have. Of course you don't ahve a light. And if we chuck al lthe fatties overboard, who is gonna be my partner?" Joe said with a laugh.  

[Fondateur]

Richter punched Joe in the arm. "That's coming from a guy who eats twice as much as I do." Richter dug through his back pockets and pulled out a lighter. "Here it is." He flicked it open and lit his cigarette. "And wasn't it ME who beat your PT run time by a full two minutes?"  

[ZombieApocalypseSurvivor]

Joe laughed.

"Yeah, I think it was. But who stayed up the night before to pull a double shift because SOMEBODY wanted to go to sleep early. I'm still waiting for my 20 bucks for that dude."

There was a buzzing noise near the edge of the deck of the carrier.

"Patrol inbound!" Joe shouted so everyone in the immediate area could hear him over the noise all around from the thousands camped on the deck, "Clear the side! get those ropes down!" Joe shouted, running through the shacks and tents to the boat launch area of the deck.

"Alpha Squad, get the perimeter now! The last thing we need are three thousand hignry people swarming the supply boat," Joe said into his earset radio, "Bravo, you back them up. Jack and I will escort the supplies to the cago hold."  

[Fondateur]

"Oh great, I need to guard FOOD from fat people...Someone fetch me a cattle prod." He laughed to himself and followed Joe. He didn't bother taking his cigarette out, even if it was time to work. He hadn't had a smoke in a while. "I am praying to God that we get some more smokes...Despite the fact I still have a ton left."  

[N for Notorious]

Jason stood in the background, his bandana pulled up over his nose, his hood overtop of his flat-brim hat, watching everything that happened. Jason nodded to two of his friends and they ran to their positions to watch the hallways to the supply room. Jason ran to the supply room door and hid behind the crate, he pulled out a old walkie talkie and spoke into it, "Alright, I'm in position, I'll try to grab what I can for all of our families in the east side of the carrier, but I need you guys to be ready to cover me when I run, and I need the rest of you guys to lock the place down." Jason waited for a moment before a voice came across the other line, "Don't worry, we're ready Jason."  

[ZombieApocalypseSurvivor]

By the time the tow got to the side of the boat, Alpha and Bravo had already established a perimeter behind some pre-deployed crates, sandbags and pallets. Joe walked over to the edge, dropping the retrieval lines just as the zodiac pulled up. Joe waited for the zodiac people to hook up their boat, and then pushed the button on the wench, hoisting them up to deck level. When they appeared, there were four people, heavily armed that jumped onto the deck, then turning to hand several boxes to Joe and Richter.

"Damn, these things are heavy! what did you find, lead bowling balls or something?" Joe said as he was given three boxes. Alpha and Bravo had made a path across the deck to a door that led down into the hull, to the cargo bay. He could hear the thousands of people shouting various things, which did nothing more than hurt his ears, "I hope they got some ear plugs in this run!"  

[Fondateur]

"Quit your bitchin' and keep shippin'!" Richter yelled at Joe as he just complained. "These things aren't heavy at all you wuss...Looks like someone needs to work out." He started to laugh.  

[ZombieApocalypseSurvivor]

Joe walked through the door, which was being held open by another guard. He walked down the stairs to the cargo hold, putting the crates down. The large cargo hold was mostly empty, with maybe a months worth of rations elft at most. Joe straightened up, bending backwards to stretch his back, then paused for a second.

"Shh!" he told Richter, "Do you hear that?"

Joe readined his MP5 as he walked slowly over to a bunch if crates.  

[Fondateur]

Richter set his handful of crates down and listened. "I don't hear anything man." He took a long drag on his cigarette and flicked the bud away into an empty space. Richter readied his MP5 just in case Joe found something.  

[N for Notorious]

Jason pulled his 9mm from the back of his pants and knelt down behind a crate, he plied open one of the crates near him with his crowbar, releasing a creaking noise as the nails exited the wood in the crate. Inside were a small number of soup/stew cans and dry goods that had been packed away as reserve rations. Jason kept his Glock at the ready as he grabbed the supplies and packed them away in a duffel bag, he zipped up the duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder, looking in the direction he'd come from, sneaking in after the guards, he heard one guard speak. "Shh!" "Do you hear that?" Jason held his Glock in both hands at the ready.  

[ZombieApocalypseSurvivor]

Joe pulled out a pen and paper, writing down a message to Richter.

Somebody stealing supplies, third crate from the left. we walk out of here like we didn't hear anything. Then we nab them. They're not getting away again

"Yeah, musta been been my head playin tricks with me. I haven't eaten my food rations in the past couple of days, except for lunch yesterday. I'm probably just hearing things,"he said as he gave the paper to Richter.  

[N for Notorious]

Jason heard the sound of pen on paper and he pulled a flare out of his back pocket. He got the flare ready to burn then lit it. Jason stood up, hurling the flare in the direction of the guards and shooting his 9mm from a stable stance as he backed up through the door, using the light from the flare to blind the guards hopefully, and possibly make it easier to hit them thanks to the added light. Jason slammed the door shut and grabbed the crate he'd been hiding behind earlier, shoving it in front of the door to hopefully bar it. Jason ran down the hallway, the duffel bag bumping across his back in time with his footfalls as he ran down the hallway, soon joined by two of his friends and they ran through a door and closed it, sealing off the east side of the aircraft carrier in that hallway, while others did the same in theirs.