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Looking down the street Mark sees the man that had called out to him. He looked roughed up and maybe drunk. Turning to him Mark shoulders the rifle with the muzzle pointed to the ground.

"what the fu.." Mark begins to say but stops.

Flicking the rifle up Mark fires a single round in the direction of the man. The bullet flies by his head with a sharp Krack and then a dull meaty thud sounds behind him. Scaning the area Mark let's off another shot then another. Finally the classic (p-ting) sound of the eight round M1 clip being ejected.

"Be more aware of the surroundings, your going to die if you don't." Mark tells the man coldly.

Ramming another clip into his M1 Mark moves back to his house. All the while he is aware of the fact that the man is following him. When he rounds the corner to his home what he sees nearly makes his legs give out. Standing with her entrials hanging out was Mark's wife. Falling to his knees he stares on in a mix of horror and disbelief as she advances on him.

Riley ran towards the man, who seemed to acknowledge him and- was raising his rifle!? Dropping down as fast as he could Riley was scared shit less. He didn't drop fast enough, round zoomed past his head, and another. Riley was on the ground, but he heard a meaty kind of *thunk* and what sounded like a body hitting the pavement. He looked up to his attacker. The man was kneeling down, his gun lying on the ground. "JESUS FUCKING CHRIST MAN! What's your problem?!" A woman, her intestines spilling out of her stomach was slowly approaching the man. Riley decided to take control of the situation since this guy won't. He runs up to the rifle, picks it up and pops a round into the woman's arm. She's undeterred however and continues to advance. "DIE you bitch!" and let's loose three more rounds, they hit her leg intestines, and then her forehead. She collapses on the pavement...dead.

Still staring on in utter shock Mark looks from his second time dead wife to the rifle that had killed her. Getting up off the ground and brushing the dirt off his pants, Mark snatches the rifle away from the man. Slinging it over his back he looks away from his dead wife, picks up the bag of ammo, and heads inside.

"If your going to stay with me your going to stay sober." Mark informs the man.

Walking up to his room Mark opens the safe again and retrieves a 30-30 leaver action hunting carbine. He hands the rifle to the man and sets out his ammo, picking up an old Mauser C96 handgun he sets that aside as well. Putting a few boxes of 30-30 and 9mm ammo next to the weapons Mark begins rearming himself.

"I don't expect you to be good, but I do expect you to learn how to use those properly." Mark tells his new comrade.

Picking up the Mauser he shows his companion how to load and operate it. The carbine being simple enough he leaves the man to get familiarized with them. Looking out the window Mark finds it's begining to get dark. Taking the M1's bayonet from the safe he slides it into it's sheath and straps it to his belt.

"It's getting dark, we stay here for the night." He anounces to his comrade.

((good night everyone, 'til tomorrow))

Mesmerized by the TV and the pictures which were shown, she gulped. 'Is this some sort of third rate horror movie project gone wrong' here eyes yet still not believing what the were shown. Her hands slightly shaking, her step trembling she was in a very shocked state. 'I need to get out of here...' was all she think of before running out of the store... 'The gun store... shooting range - I gotto get there...' hence she started running like it was her life on the line, yet she hadn't seen anything quiet like the scene on the TV yet but she didn't want to sit and wait for those things to come after her. There were quite a few people outside on the streets, some of them looking like they've faced death itself. Not stopping for one single second she arrived in front of the gun shop - A weirdly twisting person hammering on the front door of the shop - she stopped in her tracks instantly...

'FUCK!'... The alleyway going around the shop was still free from those things, seizing the opportunity she dashed forth turning into the alleyway straight for the back door of the shop...

Hammering on the door, pleading... "Please let me in... please...." sobbing .... T___T

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Thomas drove out of the parking lot of the hospital. As he pulled slowly into the car vacant street, he took notice to the surroundings. All around him, mindless bodies shuffled and twitched as they walked down the street. Those who were still "alive" ran from the virtual army in absolute horror. Thomas could all but watch as he saw an elderly man be dragged down to the ground by two of these mutant beast. They immediately began to tear at his flesh, ripping layers of skin, throwing blood onto the pavement. Thomas couldn't hold his mouth closed, he watched them pull bits of meat from the man and slowly eat it. They then dropped onto the man's face, biting into his skull, cracking his cranium clear open. Pink mush ran from the head of the man, long by now deceased. These mutants, or zombies, feasted on the flesh and brain matter.

Thomas sped up his car, he didn't want to end up being the next guy on the ground with his brains spilled out for someone's eating pleasure. As he drove west, driving for his home, he watched as this event slowly progressed throughout the town. People all over were running around in horror from this seemingly incoherent mob making it's way down main street. Thomas didn't personally care to know what was going on. At least not now. All he wanted to do was get home, and collect some things to survive. He had food at home he knew he would need, as well as some other weapons, and a broad band radio he kept in case of natural disasters. But surely, there was nothing natural about this.

Approaching the intersection just before entering Oak Mills Estate, Thomas saw to his right in front of the nursery, a couple of these vermin attempting to enter it. How sick. Thomas thought. He was not about to let these pest from Hell harm innocent children. He grabbed his AR-15 rifle and opened his door. He checked his flanks and rear, to be sure nothing would creep up behind him. After seeing it was safe, he laid his rifle atop the roof of his car. He steadied his aim, and through the iron sights he focused on the rear of the head of the zombie on the left. He squeezed the trigger once. A loud blam rang out, and the back of the zombie's head imploded, shooting an ooze of pink mist and matter into the air, that eventually landed onto the sidewalk. The zombie itself quickly froze, and then dropped to its knees, where it promptly feel forward and ceased to move.

Thomas grinned with excitement. It was the first time he had truly killed something. Then again, was it possible to kill what was already dead? Thomas didn't take the time to figure out the science in that question. Instead, he took aim for the second zombie, and pulled off two rounds. The two shots hit the walked corpse across the back. It too fell, but then continued crawling towards the door of the nursery. Thomas gave a half chuckle. It really was true, you could only kill them by aiming for the head. Since he wasn't lined up for a head shot, he picked up his rifle and walked over to the side of the road where the zombie was crawling. It didn't know Thomas was behind it, and continued to move for the doors. But before it could do anything, its head had a large hole punctured into it, prelude by another large bang. Thomas had come from right behind it and pulled off a round. The zombie quickly dropped its face into the concrete.

After ensuring himself that no more zombies were heading to this area, Thomas made his way back for his car. As he came around to the driver side, he felt a hand grab his shoulder. He quickly turned around and pushed the figure that stood behind him. He then raised his rifle, and focused on what had just touched him. Thomas froze. Down the sights of his rifle, in the middle of the iron sights, was the face of Thomas's grandmother. She stood their looking at him in fear and confusion, as if she could not understand why he had the rifle pointed at her face. But he knew why. She had been dead for the past twelve years. This didn't stop Thomas from showing a small tear. Surely he knew that this was not his grandmother, but was something else possessing her mind. He knew what he would have to do, but he continued to sob.

Finally coming to his senses, or as his grandmother began to growl and lunge towards him, Thomas pulled the trigger and held it there. He closed his eyes, he didn't care about the crossfire, he didn't want to see his grandmother's body punctured by the bullets. Instead he listened as her zombie body groaned from the shots and quickly fell to the ground. When he let go of the trigger, he opened one eye and looked down. He had done what was needed to be done. And without looking any further, Thomas turned around and entered his car. He placed the rifle back in the passenger seat and took off for home.

He pulled right, onto his street of the sub-division. He made his way up the road, and noticed that this area was relatively quiet. Mostly due to the fact people were away from their homes, either at work, or already running from this biblical catastrophe. Thomas pulled up to the drive way of his home, a nice two story, 3 bed room, 2 bath home. You'd think it'd be much for a single person, but given it's cheap cost, he had jumped on the opportunity to buy it.

Thomas turned his car off, grabbed his rifle and other equipment and made his way to his front door. He quickly unlocked his door and entered his home. Locking the door behind him, then took the hall way dresser and pinned it up against the door. He refused to let those "things" in his house. After scanning around his house and determining that there were no zombies inside, he sat down on his couch, and took several minutes to collect himself before planning what to do next.

As she drove home, she passed the gun shop. Lin could remember her father having a gun, though he would hardly ever take it out of its case. One thing he always said about it was "I'd rather have one, and not need it, than need one and not have one." She put the memory out of her head, and made a u-turn, pulling into the parking lot, not even taking time to park properly. Just my luck. she thought.

The shop owner had already closed. Then an alarm started to blare. There was one of those... creatures at the front door. She got an idea. Lin had driven her neighbors daughter to softball practice the other day, and she had left her metal alloy bat in the back of her car. Lin got out, opened the trunk of the hatchback, and grabbed the bat.

The creature was worse than John. Half of his face was... just gone. It didn't notice her. She crept up behind it, slowly raising the bat. Based on what she had done to John, she had guessed that whatever you needed to do to kill them, crushing their skull always worked no matter what. The bat swung into the side of its head, forcing the creature to flip and land on the concrete sidewalk.

Lin continually bashed the now mashed up head with the bat until blood soaked the area, which she made sure she didn't touch. She walked up to the window, crouching just to make sure she didn't get shot. "Hello? Don't shoot... I'm not one of them..." she said, standing up so she was visible through the window.

"Can you just let me in?! I swear I'm not like them!" she said, looking down at the remains of the body. A snarl came from behind her. Shakily turning around, she gasped. There were six of them, each as deformed as the next, standing in front of her. There was no way she could kill all of them with the bat.

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Luck never gives, it only lends.

Jo heard hammering on the back door. "What the hell is going on here?" she nearly yelled. Clenching her jaw, Jo took aim at the man in the window again, her finger squeezing the trigger slightly. But then she let the gun fall to her side. She just couldn't bring herself to shoot him, no matter how grotesque and... dead he looked. Jo promised herself that she wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger if he managed to bust through the glass, but by the look of things, he wasn't busting in any time soon. It was as if he had no mind. No rational thoughts.

Jo took her eyes off the disfigured face and ran to the back of the store. There was a voice outside to go with the heavy pounding on the steel door. Was this person with the man at the front door? Jo didn't like the idea of being surrounded.

With the shotgun at her shoulder, she swung the door open. She held the barrel of the gun in a woman's face. Her eyes narrowed as she looked her over, but Jo relaxed a little when she saw that the woman appeared to be healthy and normal. "You know what's going on around here?" Jo asked, loosening her grip on the gun, but not lowering it. "Because I have a mind to shoot you where you stand."

Shaking her head at her own paranoia, Jo didn't even wait for the lady to respond. "It doesn't matter," she said as she grabbed the woman's arm and drug her into the store.

Jo turned her back on the woman to bolt the door closed. Then she leaned against the steel. "I'm trusting that you aren't with that man out front," Jo said, eyeing the her suspiciously. "But if you are, there's going to be hell to pay." Then there was more banging from the front, but it was louder this time. And there was shouting.

Jo pushed past the woman she had just pulled inside, and ran to the front again. There was another woman trying to get in, her face equally as desperate. "You'd think this was the damn apocalypse," Jo muttered, unlatching the bolts on the door and swinging it open.

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Spoiler

The woman was holding a shot gun up into her face, ready to blow her into pieces...

"You know what's going on around here? Because I have a mind to shoot you where you stand."

She was shaking her head in disbelief, she didn't know what was going on herself...

Grabbed by the arm - pushed inside, the door slamming shut behind her... she thought her heart was going to pound itself out of her chest if the woman hadn't taken that gun out of her face earlier. Standing around in the back, the hammering from the front, made her get the worst chills down her spine. Still she had finally calmed down somewhat, both fists clenched together - knuckles turning white - she didn't dare stepping out of this shop unarmed.

"I got no idea... I was watching the news and made my way here, to your shop" pausing a moment... as she saw another figure slamming down the monstrosity at the front entrance of the shop. Repeated numb thuds could be heard and the cringing sound of something wailing out in agony sounded through the entire place. Walking up behind the woman who had let her in... "I believe there's another person out there..." still her voice was nothing more but whisper...

As the woman got a hold of the doorknob, she opened the door letting another female in - fortunately she didn't look like she was one of them either.

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I step outside, past paper-man's creepy dog. My feet hurry me to my bike, and my fingers fumble with the locks on the saddle bags, tearing them open. My handgun lies at the bottom, fully loaded and ready for trouble. I've carried a gun since I was 18, and in the few months since my birthday and the day I jetted off for parts unknown, it saved me more than one drunken ass kicking from my mother's boyfriends.

I tuck the Smith and Wesson carefully into my belt, and mount my bike. It fires on the first touch of the starter, a meaty grumble issuing from it's chrome pipes. I kick it into gear with the toe of my boot, and take off down the street. People are running and screaming everywhere. Well, not everywhere, considering the population of the entire town is smaller than the size of a highschool class in Portland, but the chaos is pretty evident. In the confusion, it's hard to tell who's infected and who isn't.

I speed toward downtown, headed for the gun shop. The six rounds in my chamber were enough to stop a bar fight or hold off an acid-rattled "father figure", but it wouldn't get me out of town, not in one piece. And outside of town? Did this go on forever? Was there any point in leaving? Only one way to find out. I park outside the gun shop, and walk up slowly, my hand's raised. Never know what kind of wackos are going to be in there with a machine gun, ready to spray anything that moves. Instead there is a lost looking zed, pounding at the windows with animal rage.

I side step and blow his brains out, pointing my pistol through his temple so that the bullet, should it carry though, doesn't go through the store and injure someone. It's now my turn to pound on the windows, and hope my words and charming smile are enough for me to succeed where the zombie had failed.

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Maybe I've been wrong all these years, and it's taken your inspiring speech to make me see it. You've really changed me. It's beautiful. I think we've gotta hug