>close all windows
>pull power cords from sockets, just in case a real blowout had an EMP effect against unshielded equipment
>wait it out behind closed doors and windows
>check if there are anomalies on the toilet
>empty bowels
>put on biker equipment including helmet
>put on headlamp
>grab hammer
>grab backpack filled with vodka and sausage
>stalk to nearby police station
>realise I'm not the only one with this idea
>nod respectfully "Anoo"
>nod again "cheeky"
>nod again "breeky?"
>he nods back "cheeky."
>another nods back "breeky."
>first nods back "i vi damke."
>all head to the nearby woods, tossing screws along the way
>no anomalies this far
>wait for darkness, hearing occasional shots from the direction of the police station
>moonless midnight, creepy silence fills the air like invisible mist
>stalk back the way we came, guided by the faint glittering of starlight reflected off the screws we used to check our path
>right where the woods meet the city we freeze
>"Am I hallucinating or was that the sound of a triggered electro" one of my comrades whispers
>"There it was again. Shitshitshit…"
>too late for him
>something rushes by, all we hear are two thuds
>slowly turn towards the sounds
>other comrade turns on his headlamp
>severed head lying right next to the body, eyes still twitching
>watching the beast draining his body of blood
>it's still wearing uniform, the tentacles sprouting from right beneath the SWAT cap that fused with its head, covering its eyes
>the more things change the more they stay the same I think as I sneak closer, hammer raising higher with each careful step
>it loosens the grip of its cthulhian embrace, must have heard me
>FUCK
>the mundane tool hits flesh and crushes bones
>the bones of what moments ago was my comrade and now is but a twitching corpse not yet aware of its death
>still the beast struggles to get free, the fangs of it tentacles embedded too deep in its prey
>again and again the hammer flies up and down, finally hitting the creatures skull
>as I catch my breath I notice the light focussing on the creatures hip
>yep, it still got its weapon
>"Know how to use it?"
>the light bobs up and down, a silent nod
>"Take it."
>the ordinary hammer feels good in my hand
>I'll call it Mjölnir
>"Guess we'll need another piece for you. Time to loot DUTY scum."
Such is life in The Zone when guns are outlawed so only outlaws have guns.