(The Fallen are how Red thinks of the zombies, while The Turning is the event where the outbreak went out of control, leading to the apocalypse)

I had thought of this day long before The Turning...heh, I guess I had an interest in zombies. The concept never really sunk in quite as hard as the bites into my armor, though. I never really thought I would need the plating, it was mostly to keep up the image which people seemed to find some kind of comfort in; seeing someone so comfortable with the wastes when the reality is really very simple.

We are all scared.

Nobody wants to be buried in a writhing screaming mass of irrational hatred which tares at every weakness they can find before making their own. Most have the luxury of seeing it coming, to make peace with their maker and cry out for help before being consumed by force. Some even have weapons, to give them the piece of mind that they may take a few with them to offset the balance.
I had made my peace when I realized sight was a perception, and resolved myself to silence in these last moments...or as much as I could glean from the chaos of my armor and cloak being torn to shreds before cracks of gunfire left me under a pile of the new dead.

And it was quiet, and I was alive. I squirmed out, dragging my tatters with me as I slid along the shadows, but sight slowly returning and focusing on a dull green mass in the window of a nearby watchtower. The view slows as the click of a handgun rang through. The realization that despite my gratitude, I may have been bitten in that mess, washes over me. Maybe he's there for backup, maybe he's there to help the others? His direction turns...he's coming for me...maybe its a bandit camp and they're going to put me down. Emotions of gratification and fear run rampant as my third and fifth arm load my crossbow, trying to obscure the action under the cloak which barely covers my figure. I can't imagine what he could want from me, but with all things considered, there were those I was still entitled to protect. I only hoped I would be able to protect them.

We are [i]all[/i] scared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Stop, please!" I call in as much of a hushed hiss as I could under my breath, trying to regain my composure after the assault I had sustained, holding my ribs which I'm sure were at least bruised at this point as my third arm leveled the crossbow in his direction. Judging by his apparel, I had no clue how many rounds he kept on him or what his firearm was loaded with. I must seem crazy...
I continued along the fence, quietly bracing against it since I was certain I had twisted my ankle or worse in the ordeal. I couldn't go back out there, I would certainly die...but without knowing what I was walking into, it was a coinflip.