The Walking Dead -Northwards-

[~xXInvisible_SarafeneXx~]

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The highway of 87, yes, the only highway out of Colorado springs heading towards Wyoming. The virus had broken out a few days ago, seeming like a cold and then killing people. Well, that was the virus for you. Only, people didn’t stay dead, they came back and started biting other people causing them to have the same symptoms as the first ones. It didn’t matter it seemed now though as people were piling up on the highway to get out of Colorado.

Vehicles of every sort were lined along the highway, horns beeping, people shouting, and other noises were heard amongst it all. The smell of burning fuel, bio, and old asphalt lingered in the air.

Some people were listening to the emergency broadcast telling people to evacuate the cities, that there was a settlement off to the north, in Montana for any survivors.

The sun was starting to set and people were getting ready to set up in their cars for the night, knowing that they were probably not going to get anywhere until the morning. The highway was barricaded and only let people out that weren’t bitten, those infected were being taken off to the side. Where they were taken no one knew, not at this point.


“Come on, aren’t you going to let anyone else pass tonight? Don’t you know those, those… sickos out there are going to come and bite us? We’re just sitting ducks here!” One of the people screamed. He was near the gate, fidgeting. He wanted out, wanted to get out of this damned city.

“Calm down sir, we have proper protocol to follow, proper procedures. We can’t just let anyone pass! We need to make sure none of you are infected!” The man in swat gear stated.

The man who was damn near hysterical moved closer.

“Let us go through! Damn it, why should it matter if someone’s sick or not? I heard this damned thing is spreading like wildfire!”

“Sir, I need you to calm down! There’s nothing we can do so stay calm, we were told to stop letting people through until the morning!”The man nearing hysteria let out a growl as he grabbed out a gun. The moment he did so the other swat members pulled their guns and shot him down without a flinch.

Emily had been near the front, her daughter was in baby seat nibbling on a stuffed animal. When the gun had gone off the child started crying. The woman looked back, a frown crossing her face.
“Anyone try to pull a stunt like that will be shot down like this man!” One of the swat members yelled, making sure that those near the front heard him.

“Come on Dana, be quiet… shh, shhh,” Emily gently grabbed her daughter out of the seat and pulled her close, trying to sooth the little babe. She didn’t know that this was going to be the crumble of society, no one did. They all thought that there was another place out there, a cure, something, anything that would get rid of the walking dead. They didn’t know that this was the fall of civilization.

Others were out there, in this line that had seen this shot, had heard it even. Normal everyday people.
Laurel, Kayla, George, Dmitry, Phillip, and Buck; all of them waiting to get out of Colorado Springs, whether they were here on a business trip or if they lived there, it didn’t matter. Now they too were here along with others.

[ONL]

In a car in the middle of this mess, a normal day guy was sitting in his car that was not going to be on the move for what would be a long, long time. He sat there and listened to the radio-messages about a safe settlement somewhere north of Colerado, when suddenly the sound of gunfire woke him up from the trance-like state he had been. As he had listened to the radio, he just kept on hearing the same message over and over again, the same voice repeating the same sentences again and again. But the gunfire woke him up and most likely many others that were on the highway. He couldn't see what had happened, but for some reason, he knew that it hadn't been one of "them".
"Shit...if they start to shoot at us, then I'd rather be one of the Walkers..." He muttered for himself, reluctantly deciding to get out of the car. He thought that he should take a look in the back of his car and in the tunk to see if he had by any chance forgotten something there that could come in handy in this new world. Hopefully, since he hadn't had any time to pack the necesarry things he might have needed when they started the evactuation. He even had almost been bitten by one of the Walkers, but he had gotten away. And now, he was stuck, there on the highway heading out of Colerado.
He went to the back of the car and opened the trunk. "Let's see, rope, plastic bags, spare-wheel...Ah, a crowbar!" He exclaimed, pulling out the crowbar and looking at it. It was blue, heavy but sturdy from what he could tell. However, there wasn't anything left in the trunk, so he turned his attention to the back seats of the car. There, he found a forgotten water bottle underneath the seats, a half-eaten chocolate bar, and a map of Colerado.
"Not bad, for not knowing what the hell is going on here..."

[Cosmos21]

George sat in his SUV. A roomy five seater with loads of trunk space in the back. The A/C was shot, but the heat still worked fairly well. Over a decade old just shy of 200,000 miles it was a miracle alone it ran. Of course, it's the roomiest, best off-road vehicle George owns and it also was the first set of keys he found when he realized it was time to leave. He hadn't wasted much time, grabbing what he could. Now sitting here in a traffic jam at the beginning of the end, all he could do was take an inventory of things; something he had neglected earlier. One flashlight, no batteries, a box of granola bars, a tent without a raincover, a sleeping bag, six pack of water, a .357 which only had the six bullets loaded inside, and some twine. When you're rushing to pack survival gear in the span of five minutes not everything goes according to plan. George noticed this when he realized extra sets of clothes didn't make it into the SUV.

George turned off the engine to conserve fuel and battery. No reason to end this journey before it began. He grabbed the sleeping bag and huddle down into it. Since he was parked it didn't matter that he wasn't in a great position to run. He locked his doors and lay back.... CRACK! A gunshot went off. George slid sideways to open the door and peer out, legs still trapped in the sleeping bag. He heard a soldier tell everyone not to pull a stunt like that again. A stunt like what? Every man had a right to life. That was a principle this country had been founded upon. Why were they being shot for trying to get away from an unknown danger that was slowly devouring the country?

George had an uneasy feeling as he shut his door. He definately did not want to be pinned down overnight on this highway, but it was looking as though there would be little choice except to do so. George slid the seat back and layed his head as comfortably as he could, but he couldn't fall asleep. George looked through the windshield and saw dark figures in the car in front of him. It was someone holding a child. He couldn't distinguish male or female, but the glare created from the checkpoint ahead gave off enough to see their outlines.

A chagrin smile crept across George's face as his evident solitude became oppressive. Sometimes being a bachelor in a city was great, but at times like these he wish he had someone else to hold on to. Of course, being alone gave you a sense of clarity in situations. Whatever was best for you must the right decisions. Only one person's feeling mattered in those situations. Yours.

[cgstark]

From the middle of the pack, Buck had been trying to use his considerable size to force his way to the front of the crowd. As soon as the shots were fired he halted, staring slack-jawed at the motionless body in front of the SWAT officers. Many people were backing off now, having been shocked into acquiescence by the scene they had just witnessed.


I guess these guys ain’t playin’ around, thought Buck. He wasn’t fortunate enough to have his own vehicle to retreat to. He had been in town to do a show, only to find that it had been cancelled due to the recent troubles. He hadn’t even bothered to check into a hotel, but simply caught a cab, trying to get back to the airport. After sitting for hours in gridlock, Buck had gotten out to stretch his legs and see how far the traffic was backed up. When he returned after twenty minutes he found the cab had been abandoned, all his luggage either taken when the driver had run off or looted since. Serves me right, Buck thought. Still, it would have been better to be stuck here with more than just the clothes on his back. I doubt any of these characters will be willing to let me crash in their car if we're going to be out here all night. He locked eyes with a few drivers in nearby vehicles. Not a good time to be without a friend...

[sofire]

Laurel had a small four seat, four door suv, a Chevrolet Tracker, black with grey console and seats. She always kept an 'emergency pack' in the trunk space, it was an old green army duffle, her grandfather had brought back from the war. In it she kept a shake flashlight that didn't need batteries or sun, only a shaking motion to keep it powered by the coils inside. There was a thick fleece throw, dark blue, a change of clothes for her, a steel water bottle, a jug of water sitting in the truck in case of car problems, a scarf, hat and a winter coat. There were also several pairs of shoes in her trunk, a product of being a woman, she supposed, she always had shoes everywhere. There was a few packs of crackers and some tab open cans of vegtables and beenie weenies as well as some potted meat. She sat in the drivers seat, all her doors locked as she watched the man be shot. She swallowed and looked around, catching eyes with Buck she slowly unlocked the passenger side door of her vehicle for the man.

[~xXInvisible_SarafeneXx~]

Emily held her daughter close, trying to calm her but the noise, it had scared even her and it was said that babies know if there was an emotional disturbance. Her own car was a Midnight blue Chevy Aveo and she had a lot of her own belongings in the car already. She was initially moving to Denver today, having gotten a job offer there. That was way she was on the highway. She had anything her movers didn’t have. Clothing for her and Dana, food from her fridge and canned food, her blonde Papillion who was shaking under a seat, a small bag of dog food, water. She also had a pistol in her glove department with a box of ammunition for the gun, a few blankets but no sleeping bags. It wasn’t like she was planning on going camping anytime soon.

Suddenly the transmission ended, there was just static on the air. Slowly, the man who had been shot got up, the Swat team was distracted in conversation. The man made his way, a quick walk, towards them before he took a nice chunk out of one swat members. That man let out a scream in pain which caught the attention of the other swat members. The man who had been dead turned his attention to the other swat members and let out a loud lungfilled moan before he made his way towards them. They shot at him, trying to stop him but he got ahold of another swat member and bite them before finally one of the swat members shot his head.

[ONL]

Phillip had ransacked his car one last time for items that could be useful later on, and had by now found a flash-light and a simple first-aid-pack with bandages and such, but every little bit could and would come in handy. As he had finished ransacking the car, he thought that he could hear some kind of muffling in the distance, and decided to climb up on the roof of the car to take a look. Climbing up, he could see the cue of cars that spanned as far as the eye could see, stretching back into the city. But as he turned his head in the other direction, he could get a look at what was making that noise; It looked like a crowd of people making their way towards the cars, but they were all moaning and limping.

Phillip had seen how a Walker moved, and it was just the same as these people were moving, so he understood what was going on; The Walkers where closing in on them! "Get back in the cars! They're coming! The Walkers are coming!" Phillip shouted out from where he stood on the roof of the car. He jumped down and started running down the road, continuing to shout out that they were coming. But then as he got to the barricade, he saw that a SWAT member was being attacked by one of Them. "Shit shit shit shit! Get in the cars, now!" He shouted out, making eye-contact with a woman in a car. She was red haired, freckled, blue eyes, not too old, holding a crying child. She seemed scared, as scared as the child she was caring for, but who wouldn't? Phillip knocked on her window.
"Sorry, but we have to get out of this road and somewhere safe! They, they are coming, we have to get away if you and your kid wants to be safe!" He said to her, starting to become a bit scared as he could hear the screams of people getting attacked, car horns beeping, gunfire breaking out, just all Hell breaking loose.
"Please, let me in the car and get the car of the road, we can't stay here!"

[cgstark]

Buck couldn't believe his eyes for a moment. He cocked his head sideways and pointed to himself, puzzled as the young woman unlocked the door for him. Why would a fragile young girl like that let in a brute like me? he wondered. He wasn't about to question this turn of luck, though. He opened the door slowly and started to climb inside. "Lady, I don't know who you are, but you sure just made my day that's for sure," he said as he entered.


It was at that moment the scream from the bitten SWAT member pierced the air. Startled, Buck stopped his descent into the vehicle. He watched in horror as more guards were attacked before finally the monster was put down. He looked back to the blonde girl in the car. "Ah...ah...I don't know if it's such a good idea to stay here. I mean - I don't want to seem ungrateful, but..." He was cut off by another man screaming from somewhere "Get back in the cars! They're coming! The Walkers are coming!" "Oh man..." Buck froze, unsure whether to get into the car or run for his life!

[Cosmos21]

Geroge saw the man that the SWAT team had slew earlier rise up and shuffle over to them. It was a erratic walk that bobbed up and down. It must be the onset of rigamortis that cause the unnatural gait of these creatures. The stiffening of their limbs after death must cause their legs to be as boards and their arms to be more stiff (and stronger) than a normal man's. At least, George thought to himself, stronger than he who was definately below average when it came to exhibiting great upper body strength.

The man grabbed a SWAT officer and bit down hard into his arm. With some resistance the SWAT guy pulled him off and put a two rounds into his chest. Another officer stepped in between the injured team member and the menace. He shot the abomination in the legs, but it just fell towards him and sank his teeth into the neck of his second victim. Finally, someone put a bullet into the cannibal's skull. It rose no more to plauge the living but the men bitten weren't looking so good. The one bit in the neck was bleeding out and would be dead soon from blood loss. The other looked in better shape as he was standing, but he seemed nervous. Although he was injured his whole team was given him more room than necessary to get his bearings. As if getting bitten automatically excluded him from the group just because some random guy got the jump on him.

Suddenly there was shouting behind the crwod of cars. Someone was proclaiming that a horde of these undead things were coming and that they should fearfully cower in their cars. While George didn't think rushing into the middle of the incoming mass was a great idea he wasn't just going to sit here and be surrounded. Eventually something unfortunate would happen and George was pretty sure he wouldn't become the victors in the situation.

George started his engine, ready to move out, and checked his gauges. Everything looked good so far. While the were in the mountains there was about 20 yards on either side of the road of free space. Sure, it was unpaved but George switched on the four wheel drive and pulled off-road. He saw some other cars and trucks look as to follow him. All George did was drive off and then back on after the barricade. The cars that had been admitted past that point were already long gone. The SWAT team that had previously been guarding this checkpoint "Charlie" were running for the hills. A few looked as to stand their groud but when the horde crested the rise about a quarter mile away their boldness left them and they followed their comrades en suite.

George parked his car and looked out the door at the oncoming wave of undulating bodies with the eerie roar.

"Mother of God...." was all he managed to say.

[Foster]

Dmitry was a practical Ford F-150 truck-driving kind of person, with a well-practiced practical solution to practically every problem in practice. Zombies, was not one of these problems.

Still, he did his best, and had all non-perishables loaded into laundry-baskets and dish-pans, a camp-stove -but only a small cylinder of propane- and basic cookware. Clothes consisted of the shirt he was wearing at the time plus whatever else could fit over it or get wedged into his waistline and pockets; a sock even dangled in plain view, suggesting he was indeed in quite a hurry. In a cooler he stuffed leftover lasagnia he planned to munch at once reaching the safety of Dakota; as-if that was ever gonna happen.

Once the barricades went up, he decided now was as good a time as any to finish those cold leftovers. But as he stepped outside to fetch it from the pickup-bed, a shot rung-out and a man was laid-out dead at the barricades. Dmitry didn't waste any more time getting back int the driver's seat and locking the door; his hand reached down by the center-console and pat-checked his two rifles wedged between the seats.

Roofing was a seasonal occupation, leaving the autumn-months relatively free with a large sum of disposable-income. His job also included a free-to-drive pickup-truck and travel out of state. So nothing like blowing a little steam with a trusty little .22, or plinking with a .30-caliber Mosin when it called for something a little meatier. He was a good shot, that was for sure, but he didn't quite figure a bolt-action rifle could keep-up with the masses of dead, and he didn't want to ever be close enough to a walker to get the chance to use a semi-automatic Marlin .22 rifle.

Then a scream, more shots fired, and more screaming -this time from the back- told him he better get moving if he didn't want to try his luck gunning-down the undead just yet.

An SUV a few cars ahead of him pulled off of the road and drove in the ditch around the block, and at this point it seemed as good an idea as any. Walkers don't need roads either, though.

He shifted the truck into drive just as some panicky-looking suite that he so despised just out of principal of him being a stuck-up 'box-rethinker' but figure he could be more useul alive than as target-practice for extra-large roadkill.

Dmitry creased the window open enough just so his voice could carry well enough before shouting, "Hop in, my friend."