(Scenerio One: Walmart, OPEN TO ALL)

Her footsteps heavy and wrought by exhaustion, Ellie begrudgingly trudged on. Her right hand hung loose at her hip, gun encased in tight fingers. She hadn't slept for a good two nights now, her nightmares chasing away any desire to sleep. Her supplies were still good, she had at least a nice few good meals left before she needed more. So why was she making her way over to a deserted, and most likely ransacked marketplace?

Well, she wasn't trying to squirrel food, she had enough for a few weeks. But, supplies of any kind would be welcomed. Medicine was her top priority, she'd even accept bandages. Perhaps even a good book? Shaking her head, she pulled herself from her thoughts. Just ahead was the store in question. A large "W" lay on the ground, shattered just near the entrance. The other letters were barely hanging on, struggling against the bolts that held them in place.

Elizabeth let out a small sigh, checking her gun: three shots left. Great. Hopefully she could manage to avoid trouble this time. Stepping carefully through the broken glass doors, her small and lithe frame easily gliding past without making a sound, she cautiously tip-toed her way around the first set of isles. Memories briefly flooded into her mind, her few times here. All pleasant. Now...Now, it was this. Silence, emptiness, and possibly rats. Delightful.

Just as she was walking around to the third isle, after finding two cans: one slightly opened, and the other filled with sardines (both of which she let be), she stopped. Two rows ahead of her, barely noticeable, was a walker. She mumbled a curse under her breath, just her luck. It had been a good day, partly cloudy. Threatening some rain, though so far there hadn't been any. Pursing her lips, Elizabeth quickly scanned her surroundings. In front of her, in the next row, was a few books. Some entertainment. Or fuel for fire. Whichever need came first. Though the Walker seemed oblivious, it was a bit of a risk. Narrowing her eyes, Ellie crouched and semi-crawled forward, careful in her footsteps. She could smell it now, the rancid decaying flesh. Like a barbecue gone wrong. Wincing, she reached out and grabbed for a book. She didn't care what it was, she just wanted to leave.

Just as she lifted the book from its place, a small krreeeeek emanated from the rusty shelf. Eyes widening, Ellie stopped in place. Fear glueing her to the spot. Her emerald eyes glanced around rapidly for the undead creature, only to see it was gone.
"...Holy crap" Heart racing, Ellie knew she had to leave and pronto. Just as she stood from her crouch, she noticed the head of the walker in the very next row.
"Nononononono..." She whispered frantically, mind going into overdrive. "Okay, okay...I can do this. Just-" She barely ducked under a fallen desk as the walker appeared at the end of the row, it's groaning monotone, and haunting. As the Walker got closer, still oblivious to her presence, Ellie remembered the sign she had seen at the entrance.

WELCOME TO WALMART, PLEASE RATE YOUR TIME HERE

So far, she was pretty sure they'd barely make a two on her list.

Kylie didn't know how long she had been running. All she knew was that she was not going to stop any time soon. This wasn't normal running, it wasn't like going on a causal jog or running quickly to get that boiling over pot of water on the stove. This was honest to god, panicked, running. Wide eyes, open mouth inhaling and exhaling at rapid rates, stumbling strides as you frantically try not to fall. Falling would be death. And just thinking that caused Kylie to stumble many times.

She couldn't hear any more voices behind her, did that mean the bandits had stopped? They must have assumed that the survivors would be far away enough to buy them some times to raid the camp. Kylie began to slow her run, her exhaustion catching up with her. She eventually collapsed to the ground, frantically trying to breath. Her chest felt so tight, likely a combination of the running and the panic, and her heart felt like it would have jumped out of her chest if she went on any longer.

Glancing over her shoulder, trying to see if the bandits had found her, Kylie was pleased to see she hadn't been followed. She wondered if the other members of her group had been as lucky as her. Some of them had been shot right out for not cooperating with the bandits. Kylie, still sitting on the ground, hugged her knees to her chest. She didn't know what to do. If she returned to the camp she might find her other friends, but she might also be found by the bandits.

Her contemplations were interrupted by the sounds of the undead. The distinctive moaning and groaning, something that could strike fear into anyone at this point. Kylie's breathing suddenly stopped dead in her throat. Her eyes widened and she felt herself unable to react. The machete on her side suddenly felt much heavier, her arms felt exhausted. Kylie slowly stood up as the sounds got louder. It sounded like one, but more would be coming. Kylie unsheathed the machete as she stood to her full height, her eyes still wide with fear.

The machete she normally found herself able to wield with one hand suddenly became a two handed weapon as Kylie lodged it into the walkers skull. It immediately fell to the ground, taking an exhausted Kylie down with it. Kylie frantically tried to dislodge her machete from the skull of the walker. In her panic, Kylie failed to see the approaching walkers, attracted by the sounds of Kylie. Kylie looked up with a gasp as she gave a final tug on the machete's handle, freeing the blade and sending Kylie onto her back from the force. Her vision swam as she stuggled to her feet.

And again she was running. Out of the woods and into the streets of town. Kylie, a mucked up machete in hand, looked around with wide eyes. There had to be shelter somewhere. She needed a rest. But knew sleep would never come easy. She could only hope she didn't run into more bandits.

Scenario 2: The Forest (Closed for now - Wolverbells only)

Snap.

"Careful." advised a female whisper.

Levi turned around slowly and grimaced apologetically at Evelyn for stepping on and breaking a fragile twig. The two had been trudging through a rather dense forest located on the outskirts of Naperville for what seemed like hours on end. Hunger was settling in but, fortunately, they were carrying a relatively ample supply of water on their person. The benefit of donning a trench coat replete with pockets was that water bottles, food and other miscellaneous supplies could be carried with more ease than lugging a backpack around. Evelyn, ever the contrarian, patently disagreed with this sentiment since she preferred the satchel strung around her shoulder.

The plan, so far, was going off without a hitch. The roads in Naperville were difficult to travel through without attracting the attention of ravenous hordes of undead; traversing through the forest seemed like a much safer alternative. They had spotted only a couple of walkers throughout the duration of their excursion and had been able to slip away quietly and undetected. Compared to the outside world, this place was a tranquil haven; the placidity made it easy to forget that the entire planet had gone to hell and that misery and pain were waiting eagerly to greet them once they emerged from the other side of the forest.

"Stop." breathed Levi, eyes fixated on a statuesque form seated near the base of a tree. "2 o' clock."

"I see it, looks like a rabbit!" she responded in a high pitched whisper, barely concealing her excitement.

"Got it?" he asked nervously, salivating at the sight of the animal but terrified of the consequences of failure.

Evelyn unsheathed the fire iron that she had taken from Levi's house and carefully crouched, positioning herself for what she hoped would be the perfect throw. She raised the fire iron over her head, took a deep breath and held it in.

"Great work!" commended Levi, pulling the fire iron out of the dead rabbit's neck and tossing the weapon back to Evelyn.

Evelyn grinned at him and resheathed the weapon, trying not to think of the pure luck involved with nabbing the rabbit. She had misthrown the fire iron, but thanks to some unintended prescience, she had managed to launch the weapon in the exact direction that the startled rabbit attempted to flee in.

---

"This looks like a good place to rest." commented Levi as the two stood in front of a small, dilapidated-looking log house. In better days, this must have been the residence of the groundskeeper. Judging by its appearance, it had already been ransacked, but both he and Eve were efficient scroungers and it was certainly not beyond the realm of possibility that they would find something others had missed.

Placing his hand gently on the door handle, Levi slowly pushed it open, wincing at the creaking whisper of the hinges. What he saw in front of him froze his blood but, somehow, managing to retain his composure, he silently beckoned Evelyn into the log house and shut the door surreptitiously.

"Put your hands up and turn around." he commanded forcefully to the two figures crouched down across the living room table, their backs facing towards him. "Any sudden movements and so help me God I will blow your fucking heads off!"

He and Evelyn both raised their guns at the same time, locking their sights onto the heads of the two strangers, poised to fire at the first sign of provocation.

#2

After walking for what seemed like endless amount of hours, the sisters had finally found a small house made of logs. "Yes!" Samantha nearly hissed it since they had been keeping their voices down. "I'll go around the back." Scarlett nodded at Samantha once and they parted their ways; Samantha going around the back and Scarlett through the front. As she got to the back door, she breathed in deeper and slower. 'Alright.... Easy.... Easy...' Ever so slowly, Samantha opened the door, making a face and cringing every time the door squeaked. She could only imagine Scarlett as she opened the door.
Once the door was open, Samantha crouched down and crept in quietly, closing it softly behind her. The small Click behind her making her jump. She breathed in deeply once more and crept forward, her crossbow in the ready carry. Scarlett had made herself inside already as well, she had already cleared one room and walked out of the hall, giving Samantha the clear signal. Samantha nodded and went on Into the cafeteria. She nearly screamed as she saw the corpse of a dog on the floor. She felt her stomach drop and shook her head. "That would explain the smell. Scar, can you find some kind of blanket?" Samantha walked out of the room and sat her stuff down on the couch. "I'll get it. We can stay here for the night and head out as soon as we organize our shit in the morning."

---

After they had awoken, they prepared their things to head out, turning the house nearly inside out for more supplies. "Which way do we head to now?" Samantha and Scarlett were crouched down shoving things In their backpacks, rushing to get out. "If we go...." "Shut up...." "What?" "Sam shut up.... Do you hear that?" Samantha turned and listened quietly, her heart dropping when a mans voice abruptly began to voice commands. The girls both jumped up immediately and turned around, their hands up. Both their weapons were on the couch behind them so the others already had the advantage. "Please! Please don't shoot... We don't mean anyone any harm. We were just on our way out." Scarlett spoke to them in a friendly and soft voice, almost inviting. Samantha shot a glance at her then back at the strangers. "Would you mind keeping your voice down? It'd be a shame if we all died right now because someone couldn't use their inside voice." Samantha glared at the strangers, wishing she could at least have a blade in her hand.

#2

Levi's expression softened momentarily as he gazed upon the identical twins. Although he was well aware that looks could be deceiving, it seemed probable that the two were not murderous thieves.

"Sorry, I thought you would have killed us first if we didn't get the drop on you." he explained in an apologetic tone.

He lowered his gun slowly, glancing over at Evelyn and nodding in approval upon noticing that she still had her firearm fixed resolutely upon the sisters.

"Just a precaution, ladies. I'm sure you don't mind." she said coolly.

"We're strict adherents of the law of finders keepers so you can keep your loot. How about we trade?" he asked politely, keeping his senses sharp in case the twins decided to try anything. "We have clean, bottled water but we're in need of nine millimeter ammo, hydrogen peroxide or painkillers. Got anything like that?"

Although it was an uncomfortable and awkwardly hostile situation, Levi preferred it to the alternative of killing and looting and he knew that Evelyn shared that sentiment. Regardless of how brutal the world had become, it was not in either of their natures to engage in that kind of brutality. The retention of their humanity meant that trading under gunpoint was infinitely more desirable than slaughtering two defenseless survivors.

Isaak cleared his throat.

It had been a long week. He and his friend, Robert, had, throughout the year, constantly moved through the country in search of somewhere safe. After some months that task seemed impossible, so they instead set their focus on surviving for as long as possible. Robert was killed five days ago. They were crossing through Indiana, on their way to Chicago, which, if rumours were true, was safer than anywhere else in the country. They just so happened to cross through territory owned by a group of bandits. At the time they had a good amount of supplies - a few guns, plenty of ammo and enough food and water to last a couple weeks, if rationed. Of course, any bandit in their right mind would kill for that, and kill they did. But two shots in the back of Robert's head and one in Isaak's shoulder. With his friend dead, all Isaak could do was run, leaving his supplies behind with only the clothes on his back and one gun concealed within his clothing.

So here he was, slowly hobbling down a highway leading to Chicago, his shirt's arm torn and wrapped around his shoulder as a makeshift bandage - it looked like it would be alright, but he needed some time to sit down and clear it up or else it could get infected. Dry blood covered his neck and his eyes were red due to a distinct lack of sleep over the last few days - he didn't know when he last slept, time was no longer relevant to him. He was hungry, too. Very hungry. He'd managed to find some water along the way, but he'd barely eaten anything but a few morsels all week. In front of him, along the road, hundreds of abandoned cars laid dormant. Needing a rest and hoping to find some sort of nourishment inside, however unlikely, Isaak climbed inside one of the cars and just sat for a while, working hard to keep his eyes open.

Only a few minutes passed and already he was hearing eerie groans from the distance. He sighed and nodded, muttering a curse word to himself and leaving the car. The road was so clustered that he couldn't see anyone or anything that was in his way. He pulled himself up on top of the car and stood on it's roof, taking his gun out and loading it as he did so. Peering forward, he could make out several Walkers trudging his way.

#2

Scarlett smiled as she heard the young man explain himself. "Don't worry, we would've done the same thing." Samantha dropped her hands and watched the two in front of them. "We wouldn't mind trading though! I believe we have an extra bottle of peroxide. As for the medicine, there's a ton in the restroom down the hallway. Sam and I didn't know what was what so we left it there."

As Scarlett spoke, Samantha hesitantly knelt down to get the extra bottle of peroxide. They had yet to encounter other humans since they left their college campus when it began to fill with the walkers.

"If you don't mind me asking, which way did you guys come from?" Samantha let Scarlett do all the talking, only nodding in acknowledgment to questions or shaking her head in disapproval. After she had found the peroxide, her eyes lingered on the ammo. Scarlett must have not mentioned it on purpose. They had three mags each on their person, not including the one already loaded. Giving one up would be a great loss.
It was only a second that she lingered before zipping the backpack up.

"Here you go." Samantha said quietly, slowly walking over to them, her eyes darting from the weapons to their faces. Scarlett might have put up a good act of being calm and friendly but Samantha didn't, and she didn't try to hide it either.

Woody heaved with all he had. It was just a little further to go, millimetres really. He could give in now, sure, but then he knew it wouldn’t count; no one else would, but it was never about them. Sweat poured down his face in small rivers, his lungs opened themselves to their full aching capacity, and his ageing heart smashed away at the inside of his ribs. Just a little further.

The door opened behind him, breaking his concentration.

“Fuck,” he mumbled, before falling flat on his back shuddering with exhaustion.

“Woodrow, can we talk for a sec?” came the familiar, droning voice of the group’s C-in-C: Hannah Banks.

Woody lay motionless, staring up at the ceiling as his lungs settled themselves down. He was so close to making it, so utterly close. “Sure,” he wheezed, “what ya got, chief?”

“I’m not great at being someone’s friend,” Hannah started, “so I’m going to give it to you straight: what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Mind elaborating, my dear?” replied Woody, refusing to look at her.

Hannah sighed, and entered the room. The sound of her footsteps were near non-existent, as they always were. In a former life she flew an Apache for the U.S military, and some of the lessons she had learnt in that line of work had stayed with her. Noise discipline was paramount, first and foremost. Woody wondered how such a butch young woman moved like that, but then thinking about it, he didn’t really care.

“You’ve been awfully pissy with me ever since Camp Defiance, what’s your problem?” she asked, standing over him; forcing him to look at her. That was her way, always with the confrontation.

“I’m thinking maybe you shoulda let me die back there, Chief Warrant Officer,” he spat back, rising up onto his elbows. “I didn’t ask you to grab me out of that nightmare, I’m thinking maybe I shoulda been with my wife and son, daughter-in-law and grandson. Least that way we’d be together, and I wouldn’t be sitting around here waiting to buy the farm from some jumped up prick, or one of those shambling fucks.”

Hannah allowed him no sympathy, it was not in her programming. “You better man up you old fuck, you’re apart of my team, and you’re proving a weak link with all this ‘shoulda let me die’ bull shit. Either sort yourself out, or I’m going to fuck start your face.”

Woody clambered to his feet, his muscular form towering over the former pilot. He snarled at her, but with his big bushy white beard, and frizzy hair, he looked ridiculous. Hannah did not stand down.

“Your move, soldier,” she said, looking up at him with an unreadable expression.

“Naw,” he said, turning from her suddenly. “I don’t hit women, and I ain’t no soldier.”

“You’re right, you’re a pussy, an old bastard intent on getting us all killed. You’re right, I shoulda left you.”

Before Woody could utter any more of his irritation at her, she had gone; he never heard her leave, but he heard the door shut. Damn she was quiet, and fast. But so was he; if it ever came to heads, he had no doubt in his mind that he could take her out no problem. Sixty-nine or no, he was at his prime.

***

Oskar frowned over the map of Villa Park, trying to remember where he and the group had been, and more importantly, where they hadn’t. Did they go down Sunset Avenue? Or was it Potomac Avenue? So many Avenues in this God damned city, why couldn’t the Americans ever be creative about something? Always with the sledgehammer of mediocrity.

At least, that’s what his father had always told him.

“I miss you dad,” he muttered to himself.

He looked at it again, trying to remember what he saw as they sprinted through the streets, dodging the shambling horde behind them. Their car had broken down near a brown house. Was it brown? Fuck, they all looked some shade of brown to him. Woody said it was the battery, Hannah said it was the radiator, and Camellia added her usual silence to the discussion. It didn’t matter too much in the end, the shamblers had heard them from a mile away, and by the time the car rolled to a standstill, they were waiting with eager arms.

Hannah had got them out though, as she always did. No shooting, just quick moving, watching each other’s blind spots and stopping for nothing. Oskar had to admit to himself, when it came to a crisis, she was the one you wanted at the head of anything.

“Potomac, we ran by Potomac,” he said, mentally appraising himself. “Which means we must be in Sunset.”

He crossed out four houses on the end of the block, because he and the group had run into them after putting some space between themselves and the shamblers. The structures had yielded a single tin of baked beans, and some well-by their best bran flakes. They were fucked on water, but Woody had found himself some protein mix – for what good it would do him.

“He’s a freak,” Oskar conceded to himself. “Always working out. The man’s ancient! We’re getting surrounded by the fucking dead, and he’s upstairs doing stomach crunches so’s he can reach his 80th birthday.”

He looked across the row of houses on the map, and circled the one he was fairly sure they were at. Then again, things had gone so quickly that he couldn’t be certain he was even look at the right part of the city. Chicago was a huge place. He looked up at Camellia, and found her staring back at him.

She creeped him out, with her buzzcut, the nasty scar on her face, the constant silence, but most notably, she had those ‘I’m going to skull fuck your dead face’ eyes about her. Oskar knew she’d been through a lot, and that awful things had gone her way, but then, welcome to the fucking club sweetheart. She was playing with her rifle, as she always did, dissecting it, cleaning it, putting it back together and then taking it apart again – staring at him all the while, as if she was expecting him to attack her at any given second.

“Don’t suppose you know where we are, do you Camellia?” He asked with the best English he could muster.

She didn’t reply, but at least she broke eye contact to look down at the pieces of her weapon. That in itself was a small mercy.

“What have we got, Oskar?” Asked Hannah suddenly; she had materialised behind him, and the pen dropped from his hand in a moment of terror.

“Fuck,” he said, “do you always have to do that?”

“Gotta keep on your toes, soldier,” she said, smiling slightly. “So, I’ll ask again, what we got?”

Oskar pointed to his markings on the map. “I think we’re here,” he said, “though I’m n-“

“Yes, we’re there, good job Oskar,” she said, cutting him off. “Any idea where we haven’t been?”

“Do you already know?” he asked, looking at her with plain irritation.

She nodded, “of course I do, there’s a reason you guys have stuck to me like glue for the last six weeks.”

Before the world crumbled, Oskar would have hated her for such hubris. Though in the Zulu Alpha, as she called it, a woman – a person – like Hannah was an invaluable asset. What she lacked in bed side manners, she made up for in pragmatism. She’d gotten them out of many tight spots, and he would never forget it.

“Where should we start?” He asked, scratching his head.

Hannah walked away from the table where Oskar had the map laid across, and brushed aside one of the room’s many curtains.

“There’s an ambulance with its hood popped at the end of the road; I can see a battery. If that old bastard upstairs is right, that’ll be our best bet,” she said without stopping to breathe.

“It’ll be rusted, or rotted, or whatever,” said Camellia suddenly, though she didn’t look up from her gun cleaning circus.

“Holy shit, she spoke,” snorted Oskar. “When was you gonna tell us you could speak?”

Hannah thumped him hard in the chest with a hand meatier than was fit for a member of the finer sex. “Lock that shit up, Rennold.”

Heavy footsteps on the stairs, each one creaking under a heavy weight, denoted Woodrow’s entrance into the debate. “She’s right,” he said, “the thing’ll be no good to us now.”

“But we have to try, right?” Asked Oskar, looking at Hannah pleadingly. “My family is out there somewhere, and without a car i-“

“Your family is dead, deal with it,” said Camellia.

Woodrow was quick on his feet, and had Oskar thrown up against the wall before he even knew what had happened. The river of the poor Pole’s profanity carried on for some minutes, but Camellia paid it no heed. Hannah just bumped her head slowly against the wall in frustration.

“Enough,” Woodrow said, “we’re gonna look at that battery, but I need you to be cool, you get me?”

Oskar didn’t try to arouse the old man’s anger; he was twenty years the guy’s junior, but had half the muscle mass. “Okay, I’m sorry,” he said. “But if that-“

“Save It,” hissed Woodrow. “We’re days away from killing each other, we have no food, no transport, if you don’t get your shit together son, I’m gonna start getting real worried.”

“You, worried about us?” Asked Hannah, turning to give him a huge mocking smirk. “Looks like the fuck starting of faces can wait a while.”

“Don’t get me started, you little stupid honky bitch,” snorted Woodrow.

“A racist, that’s great,” offered Camellia, as she applied oil to the M14’s dissected receiver.

Hannah was not so light hearted about matters; she allowed dissent to run amok like she allowed people to put her in danger. “Say that again, and I’ll kick your black ass out of that door for the shamblers.”

“Race war,” Camellia said, and they could all swear they heard her giggle.

“Bring it on, you aint better than me because of that shitty uniform you’re wearing. I think it’s time this comes to ahead,” said Woodrow, releasing Oskar so that he could confront Hannah.

“Guys, stop, please stop,” Oskar said, trying to get between them.

“Stay out of this, kid,” spat Woodrow, “this bitch had it coming since the moment she dragged me away from my family.”

“Yeah, let me and this old buffalo see things through to their conclusion,” said Hannah, smiling. She unclipped her Apache flight helmet, and tossed it aside. “Come on you old fuck, you want some of this honky bitch?”

There was a blast of static from over in the kitchen, and the group suddenly froze.

"We have everything you need. Food, shelter, water, people... A society. You can live in a community free from the infected. A safe haven where you can feel comfortable, knowing that you're surrounded with *********** you out there? You live in a land overtaken by abominations and murderers, thieves and rapists.

Your instincts are likely telling you that this is too good to be true. Under normal circumstances, you could hardly be blamed for heeding that frightened little voice inside your head. After all, it's kept you alive for this long. *********** is that we need you as much as you need us. We can't rebuild America without your help and that's why this signal goes out to all of you survivors struggling 24/7 just so that you can take another breath. Is *********** Chicago risky? Of course it is. But what else are *********** going to continue running, simply to exist? Or are you going to take hold of the only opportunity that will allow you to live again?

America begins anew at the Black Mountain, the tallest building in Chicago. In better times, it was known as the Sears Tower. Find us there and ***********. What other choice do you have?"

Woodrow and Hannah backed away from each other, and even Camellia looked up from her obsession. Oskar just stared stupidly in the direction of the kitchen.

“We’ll I’ll be damned,” said Woodrow finally.

[Scenario #3]

Kylie stumbled through the streets of...well she had no clue. Kylie had lost all sense of direction after leaving her camp. At the camp there were compasses and maps, as well as people who knew how to navigate. Out here Kylie had no clue. There were street signs everywhere, on the ground and on uprooted signs. Some of them had been destroyed and vandalized or rusted over, so she wasn't sure if she could trust their direction. Kylie paused in the middle of the street, looking and listening around here. The place seemed pretty quiet, she could hear the groan of the walkers in the distance behind her. But she was sure it wouldn't stay safe forever.

On second thought, keeping out in the open like this could be dangerous. She could easily be surrounded and overpowered. Kylie tried to swallow back her panicking breaths as she looked around for shelter. She didn't trust any of the houses and businesses out here. They could be full of survivors or walkers who didn't make it out to the street.

Kylie looked down the street further, walking slowly as to not alert her position. As she got closer she was able to tell what was blocking the street up ahead. An ambulance. Kylie had to allow herself a smile. It would be perfect. It was not only protection from the streets, but it also might have supplies inside. Kylie continued her limping walk forward, being cautious of walkers in the street. Her machete, still being wielded two hand, almost slipped from her grip a few times. Kylie felt like a wreck, but maybe some hope would come from that ambulance.

The back door to the ambulance was slightly open. Kylie, taking a deep breath to steady her hands, shifted her machete to one hand, holding it defensively in front of her as she opened the door up the rest of the way with the other. Kylie visibly relaxed when she revealed for herself that the amublace had no walkers inside, as well as no survivors. Kylie, giving another quick glance around, climbed into the back of the ambulance, closing the door behind her. To her displeasure, the hinge let out a squeak. Kylie widened her eyes in horror, waiting for every walker on the block to swarm her. But none came. The sound was either not interesting enough or loud enough.

With a soft sigh Kylie closed the door the rest of the way, slowly as to prevent any more squeaking. She didn't close the door all the way however, she was scared she would become trapped if she did. As much as she wanted to keep the dead out, she didn't need the added stress. Her body was weak enough as is.

Kylie set her machete down next to her, close enough to grab if so needed, as she took the backpack off her back. It didn't have much in it, only what was already there when the raiders attacked her camp. A small ration of food and water, minimal medical supplies, and her gun. No ammo. However it pleased Kylie to see that her pocket radio was still in there. If she ever got batteries for it the music would help calm her down. Once she assessed what she had she began to rummage through what was left in the ambulance. Most of it was completely foreign to Kylie, she was no medical professional, but at least she knew what a bandage was.

“Batteries...” Kylie muttered to herself as she rummaged. “I just need a few batteries.”

“Walker?” asked Hannah, crouching low behind a shabby picket fence.

Oskar pulled back from his rifle scope, “not sure, do walkers open doors?” he asked, half heartedly.

“Shit,” muttered Hannah. “Armed?”

“A knife, a long one,” replied Oskar, peering back into his scope.

Camellia’s interest peaked, and she tapped Oskar on the shoulder. Her rifle was gripped tightly in both hands. “Man, or woman?” she asked.

“Not sure, a woman I think,” he replied, adjusting the scope’s elevation.

“Shit,” Camellia hissed, and stood back. “Thanks for getting my hopes up.”

Woody shook his head, “gal, that’s fucked up.”

“Fucked up is getting held down-“

“Enough,” said Hannah, looking angrily at the two, but more so at Cemellia. “Keep it together, Cam, or get your ass back to the house.”

Oskar released the safety on his rifle, “What’s the plan, Hannah?”

Hannah thought for a moment; lone women were less likely to murder you. In this fallen world of theirs, the vulnerable were now prey to the stronger, and the primal boundaries between man and woman had risen up like the Berlin Wall. Everything had been dialled back to the damned stoneage, and more than likely, a lone woman was fleeing from something… unless they were a mean mother fucker, like herself.

“Might be friendly,” she said quietly. “Might be a trap, Hell, she might be a nut case out for blood. Hard to tell these days.”

“Amen,” added Woody.

“Alright,” grunted Hannah. “I’m going up there. Oskar, watch the ambulance – if anything goes down that you don’t like, put her down.” She looked at Woody, “old man, you got my back?”

“You know it, sweet heart,” he said smoothly, blowing her a kiss; their earlier disagreements momentarily forgotten.

“What about me?” asked Camellia.

“Watch Oskar’s back, that woman might be bait, and someone could be sneaking up on us right now,” replied Hannah, casting a wary glance at their surrounds.

“I hope so,” Camellia said, cocking the M14. “I hope it’s three men, with their dicks hanging out thinking they’re getting an easy ride.”

“Jesus,” muttered Woody. “If we get to that tower, I’m getting you help.”

***

Hannah and Woody approached the ambulance from the front; they couldn’t see anyone in the cab, but the glass was smashed to hell – and there was a lot of blood. Hannah went off to the left, ordering Woody to go off to the right; they’d circle the ambulance and come onto the doors from both sides. They didn’t want trouble, but if it was going to happen, they’d be ready as they could be.

As Hannah rounded the back of the ambulance, Woody hung back, crouching around the corner. His job was not only to watch Hannah’s back, but to also scour the surrounds for a changing situation. Something like a ruffling bush, a vibrating garbage can or a snapping twig could denote an ambush.

Hannah pounded a fist on the back of the ambulance, and then backed away in case someone shot at her through the doors’ brittle metal.

“We’re armed. And friendly,” she said, as loud as she dared without drawing the attention of distant shamblers. “We don’t want trouble, but that here is our ambulance; mind stepping outside?”

“Oh my god...” Kylie exhaled softly. She had found them. Batteries. Kylie couldn't help but let out a speak of excitement. It was almost too good to be true. Kylie took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. She didn't even know if the batteries were functioning. She pulled her backpack off her back again, pulling out the radio. The same one she had since she was a child. It used to help her with nightmares when she was young, maybe it would do the same now. She fumbled slightly with the battery hatch on the radio, her trembling fingers struggling to open it. “Fuck.” She growled. When had she last eaten anything? Or drank anything? No wonder she felt so weak, she could barely control her fingers.

Food and water was scarce as a large group living in the woods, but alone it was even worse. She felt a pang of loneliness as she fumbled with the batteries. She missed the rest of her group. Watching them die and panic. Kylie shut her eyes, trying to control her breathing. She would be fine. She had to keep calm.

The sound of someone pounding on the ambulance brought Kylie back into a panic as she dropped the battery, watching as it rolled away. She was hopeless to stop it as panic took over her body. Kylie scrambled to the back of the ambulance, until her back hit the back of the car. She hugged her backpack to her, with her machete held out in front of her. Her hands continued to tremble with fear. She was going to die. She thought of all the things she never did. She almost laughed at herself. She never even went to college.

The voice outside the ambulance, even coming from a woman, filled Kylie with fear. Friendly. Ha. She wouldn't believe it. This was a trap. They always are. Kylie swallowed as she processed the woman's words. She said our ambulance. She was with a group of armed survivors. Kylie tried to keep from hyperventilating. She didn't want to exit, but if she didn't they would be coming in. Kylie slowly, trying to keep off her sore leg, opened the door to the ambulance. She tried to keep her voice steady. “I'm so so-sorry.” She mentally punished herself. Don't show weakness. Her backpack was back on her back, her machete in hands. If they were armed so was she.

“I...I didn't realize this was yours. I just needed to get out of the streets.” She looked around, wondering where this woman's group was. “If it makes it any better, I didn't take anything.” Okay, partly a lie. She took bandages and the batteries. But they were both so valuable to her. Kylie felt faint.

Hannah looked the girl - not woman - up and down; scanning for a sense of threat. After a few uneasy seconds, she lowered her rifle. She cast a quick glance at Woody, and after a brief look around, he shook his head. So it wasn’t a trap, well that was a relief.

“Stay there, ma’m,” said Hannah, edging back into her authority seat.

She turned to face the picket fence where she’d left Oskar and Camellia, and patted her chest twice. It was the signal she’d taught them; two pats meant ‘status update’. To her relief, both of them waved a hand above their cover to indicate everything was fine.

Turning back, Hannah shrugged, “it’s not technically ours ma’m, we’re just after the battery up front. You can keep what you found in the back, medical supplies aren’t our priority right now.”

“Fuck,” growled Woody. He’d moved from his crouched position from the side of the ambulance, and was shaking his head at the battery. “The terminals are corroded, they aint gonna work for shit.”

“God damnit,” sighed Hannah. “Keep your gun up, and watch for trouble.”

She looked over at Oskar’s position and waved at them. The Pole dutifully rose from his cover, and hopped over the fence. Within seconds he had jogged up to Hannah and the girl, giving the latter a brief smile.

“My name’s Oskar,” he said to the girl. “It’s okay, you’re safe.”

“That might be a bit too early of a call,” interrupted Hannah, pointing down the road.

“Aw fuck,” muttered Woody, joining the trio. “There must be dozens of them. You reckon they heard, or saw us?”

“Both,” spat Hannah, “not that it matters.”

“Plan?” Oskar asked, pointing his rifle down towards the advancing spattering of walkers.

“Don’t shoot,” Hannah snapped, “I don’t want a repeat of Camp Defiance.”

“Hey,” Oskar shot back. “If I hadn’t of blown that thing’s head off, you’d be minus a foot.”

“Maybe,” she replied, not giving much weight to his words. “Where’s Camellia?”

“Fuck knows,” Oskar snorted, “she was there, then she wasn’t, you know what she’s like.”

“That I do,” nodded Hannah. “Well, it can’t be helped. She’ll rejoin us, or she wont, I’m done baby sitting that dumb bitch.”

“Hannah!” Squawked Oskar, “she’s one of us!”

“That’s her choice, not mine.”

Woody nodded his head. “It’d be sad to lose her, but you’re right, she’s a loose cannon and Lord knows she’s put us through enough trying times.”

Hannah started backing away from the direction of the walkers, noticing that the dozens had become hundreds. She snatched the map of Chicago out of Oskar's back pocket and looked at it for a few seconds, before stuffing it back. He hid his embarrassment of being manhandled well.

“Okay, we can’t go south, and we can’t go west, so we’re going to have to go east,” she said, starting a slow walk on down the road. She stopped briefly, and looked at the girl. “Ma’m, you’re welcome to come with us, but you gotta do what I say if you do; if you go walking off, you just saw what happens. Choice is yours.”

“Yeah, and don’t think of going crazy on us. I see that machete move faster than I fancy, and I’ll put you down,” added Woody, showing the girl the pistol stuffed in his cargo pants.

#2

Levi took the bottle wordlessly and scrutinised it closely, examining the bottle itself for any structural weaknesses before tentatively opening the bottle cap. He peered in closely at the liquid, ensuring that it was transparent before walking over to Evelyn.

"Fire iron, please."

"Huh?" she asked, bemused.

"Trust me, I'm a pharmacist." he said seriously.

With an eyebrow still raised, Eve unsheathed the fire iron and handed it over to him. It was a testament to her survival experience that her eyes never moved away from the sisters during the transfer.

Levi rubbed his finger firmly against the fire iron until there were a few small drops of still-fresh rabbit blood on his thumbs. He held his breath and tilted the bottle over until a tiny amount of the hydrogen peroxide dripped onto his thumb, coalescing with the blood and creating a weak fizzing effect.

"Perfect." he said with a satisfied smile, opening his trench coat and reaching into one of the many inner pockets to produce a bottle filled with clean and clear water. "Here you go." he offered, tossing the bottle towards Samantha.

"Sir Pharmacist, shouldn't you be checking the bathroom for the stash that was just mentioned?" asked Evelyn in a sarcastic drawl.

"It sounds too good to be true but then again, they weren't lying about the peroxide. Stay here, I'll go check it out."

"Just hurry." she demanded, clearly uncomfortable with being left alone despite her superior position, gun still drawn on Samantha who seemed to be the more dangerous of the two.

Departing with a nod, Levi made his way across the living room and turned into the narrow hallway. Pistol by his side, he gently opened each oak door he came across and scanned the room with brevity for any potential threats. When it was clear that the twins didn't have any company, he approached the final door at the end of the hallway and flung it open almost carelessly.

How was it possible that medicine could still exist in here? Surely someone would have looted it by now? And if not scavengers, what about the groundskeeper? Whispering a quick 'just fuck off' to the skeptical and pessimistic side of his brain, he took a deep breath and opened the mirror-adorned medicine cabinet.

Upon seeing the bounty of the cabinet, he felt a strange mixture of disappointment and elation. The two combating beasts in his head, optimism and pessimism, had managed to produce this disconcerting ambivalence. The optimistic side was hoping for a lot more but the pessimistic side thought there would be nothing. Some medicine was better than no medicine. Although the majority would be useless for he and Evelyn, they could possibly use it for trading. He wasn't sure that anyone would be too interested in thiazide diuertics to treat their hypertension when other worries were much more immediate but he couldn't rule the possibility out.

Dividing the bounty into two even parts and clearly marking the bare white bottles with names and uses, he strolled back into the living room and walked in on Evelyn answering Scarlet's question prior to his rummaging.

".... And then I met him in Naperville proper. His house is on Roosevelt, just down south." she finished.

"This is your half of the stash." informed Levi, placing three rattling, half empty-containers of pills onto the table, close to Samantha. "I've written down notes. You've got Acetaminophen, Bendroflumethiazide and Omeprazol. I'm sure I don't need to explain the benefits of Acetaminophen. As for the others, short story is that Bendroflumethiazide is used to treat high blood pressure and Omeprazol will help treat stomach ulcers, heartburn and indigestion."

Scenario #1

Dan 'Metro' MacDuff had seated himself in the corner of the WalMart. From his viewpoint he could see everything, from the permanently jammed magic doors at the entrance to the thick blag hallway at the other side, a place he flat-out refused to go into. He wasn't scared of the dark, but he wasn't going to run into smothering darkness where some kinky fucker with a bondage fetish would take a bite out of his neck. Metro didn't roll that way. He was just kind of sitting right now, not doing anything in particular, flicking through an old copy of Empire he had found. He was still mad that the shit hit the fan before they ever got a sequel to the Dredd movie. But a quickening of the breeze, a faint sniff of odour, a quiet- Oh who the fuck was he kidding, he could see her head bobbing up and down the aisle. He slipped down from his Throne of Cafe Chairs and weaved his way through the debris, M4 levelled.

Metro had visited Glasgow a few times as a child. One time he remembered in particular though was his visit to Easterhouse, a ghetto of Glasgow. Chicago one year on from a zombie apocalypse had less shit strewn across the floor than Easterhouse did.

The girl went up aisle three. Metro bent over and went up aisle two. The awkward pressure on his chest was irritating his lungs again, he could feel a ticklish cough rising, and the rough banging of the rifle on his spine was leaving bruises. But first things first was Zed removal. No movement was coming from aisle three, so Metro being the gentleman he is, decided to get rid of the metaphorical 'spider' in this already blooming relationship: he sprung up and heaved the corpse's head too the left, hammering down the tip of his beloved knife straight through it's cranium and thumping on the other side of the skull. He lowered the body down and quietly laid it out, searching the pockets. Nought but lint. Another Zed was in the vicinity though, he could hear it tripping over the rubble of a long ago war. He straightened out and padded his way forward. He swiped the sides of his blade on an old copy of Fifty Shades of Grey (pretty ironic, considering it was now soggy with grey matter), and still crept forward until it retreated out of sight behind the book case again. An invisible Zed was as bad as a zippy Zed. Metro walked backwards and widened the gap between himself and the man-thing before turning the corner. He lunged forward stabbed the shambler directly on its spinal cord, severing it. A sickly thud harmonised the clanging ruckus of head on bookshelf reverberated throughout the store. The done fucked up, didn't it?

But nothing came of it. Or nothing of any immediate danger anyway. So he walked back to aisle three. Without saying anything, he cleaned the knife on a billowing paper bag (silly environmentalists) and sheathed it, then swung his M4 into a neutral position on his front. Metro glanced down at the crouched girl, kind of pretty actually, and waved, only the vague indication of glinting eyes showing from behind his mask.

#2

Samantha watched closely as the young man tested out the peroxide. "We wouldn't lie to you." She spoke softly towards them once they saw it was what they needed. She quickly caught the bottled water and smiled, for a fraction of a second, thanking them and going back to Scarlett.

"Could you please not aim at my sister? And if you are, at least keep your finger off of the trigger. We've yet to make any attempt at harming you." While Scarlett spoke to the young woman, Samantha packed the water into one of their backpacks.

It didn't take long for her companion to return and the sisters were taken by surprise when he set a few bottles down. "Tha..... Thank you." They looked at each other, confused, but took them either way. "That's very kind of you." Scarlett smiled and took them, packing them in her backpack.

"May we travel with you?" Samantha suddenly blurted out, not even giving Scarlett a warning. "I don't really have a reason as to why it would be a pro, but .... I mean...." "Sam, I'm sure they don't want others to drag them down. They don't even know us." Samantha turned to Scarlett and frowned. "We don't know anyone. How are we going to survive alone?" She turned back to the other two, "What do y'all say?"

#2

Levi tilted his head to glance at Evelyn to find that she was mirroring his concerned and hesitant mien. They had survived as a duo thus far and felt that it was the perfect number because it afforded them a contingency whilst avoiding the downfalls that more numbers meant; more mouths to feed and more sound to be made. Stealth was much more possible for a couple than for a group with four members.

On the other hand, their being extant spoke volumes about their capability to survive. It was certainly possible that they would provide an advantage but neither Levi nor Evelyn were aware of exactly what skill sets they would bring to the table.

"And how would the agreement to travel together help us?" demanded Evelyn. "We were able to sneak up on you with ease and could have killed you. How would you benefit us in any way?"

Levi regarded Scarlet and Samantha with an intrigued and fixated stare, weighing up the benefits and drawbacks in his mind. He was quite eager to hear how the twins would respond to Evelyn's impetuous line of questioning and her barely veiled insult.

#3

Kylie held her breath as the stranger looked her up and down. She felt sick, terrified in case this girl found something on Kylie she didn't approve of. She only felt more anxious as the woman turned away, telling Kylie to stay where she was. At that point Kylie thought about running, but then again she had a rifle. And last time Kylie checked she couldn't outrun a bullet. The woman then turned back to Kylie after flashing some symbols to what Kylie could only assume was the rest of her group. Apparently Kylie passed whatever silent test occurred. But god she was scared.

She watched in silence as the rest of the group gathered, then began to argue. They weren't quite as intimidating as Kylie expected. There was no way these people were bandits. The bandits that attacked her group were large in numbers and extremely violent. They also covered their faces. This woman was clearly the leader of the group, and it seemed like she ran a tight ship. Kylie tried to follow their argument, but found herself getting lost in names she didn't know. The man who came up to her seemed kind, she noticed his brief smile before he spoke, he told her she was safe. Glancing at the weapons in the strangers hands made Kylie doubt this.

And things just kept getting worse. Kylie looked visibly more nervous as the group of walkers approached their group. She could only wonder what might have happened if she had remained in the ambulance. The rest of the group began making plans, and Kylie considered for the second time to leg it. But then she was addressed. They are letting her come with them? Kylie, at first didn't speak. She had a group already, but she knew that group was gone. There was no way they would be able to regroup. Kylie took in a shaky breath as she nodded to Hannah. "I...uh understand...group dynamics...ma'am..."

What the older man said to her almost made her reconsider. She expected a little bit of a softer response from an elderly man. Kylie always thought of old men as gentle giants. She then remembered the dead were walking. "Yes sir, I understand." She spoke in a soft tone, trying to hide her panic. She lowered her machete to her side. Kylie soon found herself asking, who do I trust more a herd of walkers or a group of survivors.

It was smarter to move in a group, by herself Kylie knew she wouldn't last much longer. She walked along with the group of survivors, feeling their gazed on her. She had only wished she had gone back for that battery she dropped.

#2

"Don't look at me." Scarlett raised her hands and turned to look at Samantha who seemed to be more in shock about her request than anyone else.

"We were caught up with something. But it's a mistake we'll never make again. Anyways.... We can both hunt. I have a crossbow which makes things go by a lot smoother. No noise and I can reuse my ammo if need be. Scarlett knows how to cook given any situation and she's really agile. She can sneak into any building unnoticed. We can't really offer much when it comes to medicine but we can offer protection. It never hurt to have an extra pair of eyes and ears."

Samantha just stood there, not really sure if that was a good reason as to why they should be accepted but she sounded confident enough.

#2

After considering her points fairly and with as much attempted impartiality as possible, Levi edged closer to Evelyn and the two began to converse in hushed, whispered tones, casting furtive glances at the pair every now and then.

"What do you think? She had me at 'crossbow'." he said honestly.

"What makes you think she won't use that crossbow to put a bolt in the back of your head when you least expect it?" hissed Evelyn.

"That's not going to happen, they let us clear out their medicine cabinet! They're not killers, trust me." he assured her.

Evelyn stared at Scarlet and Samantha for a long time, causing an awkward and deafening silence to fill the room. After what seemed like hours, she reluctantly relented.

"Fine, they can follow us to Chicago." she said, just loud enough for the twins to hear her.

"Great!" said Levi with newfound enthusiasm. He approached Samantha and held his hand out. "You're in, and you're coming with us to the Black Mountain."

#1

Ellie could feel a tingling in her legs, no doubt from the lack of blood they were recieving due to her current balled up position. She was tense until she saw the dead pers- no...Undead person shuffle to the end of her aisle, afterwards she released the breath she wasn't aware she had been holding. Her mind was scattered, should she make a break for the exit? If so, she could risk alerting other Walker's to her location.

She had just begun to crawl out from beneath the desk when she saw a flurry of motion just ahead of her, she went to go back under the desk, but only managed to bang her head against it in her less-than graceful attempt. Letting out a small curse, and rubbing the back of her head, she glanced up from beneath her light blonde hair, forest green eyes trained on the person in front of her. Only thing worse than a dead person, was a living, breathing, thinking one. There she sat, looking up at a masked man, who was...waving at her?

Well, that was new. Raising a neat brow, she looked him up and down, sizing him up. He didn't seem threatening, but then again, she couldn't be sure. Normally, she could gather information based on the eyes, but this man, had them covered in ask that was rather intimidating. His height, too, was making her feel incredibly small. Shaking her head, bringing herself out of her thoughts, she stood slowly, brushing herself off.

With an awkward nod, she cleared her throat, her eyes locking on the mask, before giving a small smile. "Thank you..." She tilted her head to the dead walker just at the end of the aisle. "I suppose this is where I say I'm friendly, not bitten, and not looking to fight." Her smile widened briefly, eyes glinting. She didn't want to die here, she had come this far. Hopefully this man had acted on good intentions. There was only one way to find out.

Ellie carefully lifted her hand, after putting her gun back in her waistband, a gesture for a handshake. "Hi, I'm Ellie." Her voice was soft, an extra layer of honey added for good measure. She did not want to come off as hostile and be killed for it. Not when she had come this far.