Derrick grabbed a hunting rifle and proceded to load it with two bullets. He looked at everyone else and walked back upstairs. He looked out of the window of his room. Upstairs is easier to defend.. He thought of breaking three stairs on the stairway, so no zombies could get up.

Thinking of everyone else, he decided against it. He cocked the gun and looked down the sights. This could really use a scope, he thought. His four years in the KSK had paid off, eventually. Derrick tried not to socialize with everyone else. He wiped his eyes tiredly. I don't trust anyone here, and I'm going to assume they're all infected.

He pulled the gun down and grabbed a hunting knife. He stuck it so the handle was sticking out of his pocket, and he grabbed a half-rotten apple. He started to chew on it thoughtfully. I should kill them all. Less zombies to kill us. He wondered if the zombies had an expiration date.

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