"I've been here since it started. The woman who lived here before was killed pretty much right off the bat, so I went ahead and took over her gardens. Lucky she had so many seeds and all." Irene took the plate and put it lazily in the no-longer-functioning sink. She looked briefly out of the window in an instinctive urge to follow the other person's gaze, before her higher brain stepped in and let her know that Hunter hadn't actually seen anything dangerous. Hopefully.

"What about you? Did you just hit the road as soon as the shit hit the fan?"

Hunter would look over to Irene. "Not really, I served in the national guard when things started to get bad. So for the first two weeks or so I stayed with my unit, Though after things got really bad, I went AWOL, and I went home to find my sister. Sadly she wasn't home...I'm going to an old camp ground we use to hang out at as kids to find her, WE said as kids if anything were to happen we would meet there."

Hunter would walk away from the window. "So you've been alone this whole time? I don't know if that's a good thing or a bad"

She shrugged and nodded. "Something I've learned in the course of my life is that...no offense. People are shitty. You can't trust them. No matter how good you think they are, sooner or later they'll end up abandoning you because of their own motivations. So I thought, 'Why bother pretending to care for someone else if one of us will just leave the other dying in a gutter somewhere?'. And it's been...pretty good, so far." Her voice was tinged with a bitterness that she struggled to push away. "Good luck finding your sister, commando."

The hedge was as tall as James, and thick. He hadn't considered something so simple to be so impossible. He had tried three times to grab hold of it and climb over, but each time he'd fallen back with two hands full of broken branches. He looked around, noting that the end of the garden backed up onto the wall of a neighbouring house.

The constant raling of the chainlink fence behind him, reminded him that the little child was all too aware of his presence. James could turn back, perhaps shove the child aside and make a run for it - but to where?

He looked slowly down the garden, past the rusting barbecue and capsized picnic furniture, and towards the house. The back door to the building was ajar, and smeared with bloody hand prints. He couldn't see past that though, because with the power out, everything looked dark inside. It was possible that the dead men who once occupied the premises were no longer around, and he figured that surely they'd of come out by now because of the racket he'd made trying to climb the hedge.

Still, James did not relish the task of traversing a dark and claustrophobic environment. He'd been lucky so far, and had spent most of the crisis' duration hidden away in Old Man Cowsky's house. No one had bothered him, not the rampaging military, or the ravenous dead. He hadn't lifted a hand in anger to anyone, nor had anyone lifted a hand against him. He'd just sat there, day after day, looking out the loft's window at a world falling down in the distance.

His grip around his tyre iron stiffened, and he felt its weight. This gave him a small boost of confidence, and so giving the dead child a quick sideways glance, he headed down towards the house.

The door had been long ago battered off one of its hinges, and hung at a slight angle. He pushed it aside, and winced as it creaked. His heart froze, and any second he expected dead hands to reach out of the darkness and claim him. They didn't. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerve, and walked on in.

James immediately lost his footing, and slipped on something oily. He managed to stop himself from falling, and stood still for a few seconds. Still nothing. He continued, walking into what was once the house's kitchen. Everything seemed quiet, and even the dead child outside had stopped rattling the fence.

A can of Heinz beans, laying on the floor by the kitchen's open fridge caught James' eye. Suddenly his stomach rumbled, and he remembered that he hadn't eaten in three days.

"Well," he said to himself cheerfully. "There's no time like the present!"

James started to pull back the kitchen's draws, looking for a can opener.

Hunter would look at the women. "So you don't trust people? Yet you helped me, When you could have easily left me?"

He would walk back to the couch and sit. "I guess I do owe ya for helping me out, Is there anything you need that I may have or I could find for you?"

"No, I don't trust people," said Irene. "If you're smart, you won't either. Not that I'd be an issue. I could have stuck my knife in your throat while you were flopped down unconscious on my property." She seemed to enter a short period of brainstorming in response to his question. "If you could kill a deer for me, that would be excellent. Otherwise...hmm. I'll have to think on it."

Hunter would stop and think for a sec. "actually...I might be able too, I use to hunt with my dad when I was younger, I still have three slugs left as well. When I go out to find the rest of my gear I'll see what I can do for ya."

Hunter would walk over to the shotgun and load the three shotgun shells. "But that may be a day or two before I go out, If i try to run on my ankle I'll make it worse, If I can't run I'll be forced to fight, And I am in no condition to fight."

Hunter would think about what else he could do well he was out. "Do you have a map of the area? Maybe a lost of stores or something?"

James Houston - Unknown Street



There was a thump from upstairs, James froze as he rummaged through the drawers. Then there were was another thump, and another.

He stood back from the drawers, and shifted his safety goggles to try and get a better sense of things. The house was dark, too dark, but his eyes were slowly adjusting to it. There was a door leading out of the kitchen, and just beyond, a hallway with some stairs and a couple more doors. The thumping continued, but didn't seem to be moving from its perceived location.

James cringed as he imagined what may be making the noise. Probably a dead man, stuck in one of the bedrooms, banging its hands against the door to try and get free. James suddenly lost his appetite, and moved on into the hall way - slowly. Each step was a carefully measured action, minimising the noise as much as was humanly possible.

He passed by the stairs, and though it was almost pitch black, he could see dark stains leading up them. This only furthered his intent to get out of there. He headed back to the kitchen, grabbed the can of beans, and then went back into the hallway. He froze when his eyes detected the feint outline of something that hadn't been there before.

At first he thought he'd just mistaken what he was seeing for a trick of the light, but then the object growled. James had enough time to bring his tyre iron up as a dead man rushed out of the darkness, and threw itself at him. The force of the impact brought James to the ground, and a pair of jutting teeth snapped inches away from his face as he fought to keep the dead man's weight off him. The rank smell of rotting flesh and ... something worse ... rushed up James' nostrils, making him nauseous despite his predicament.

With great effort, James managed to bring the tyre iron to bear, and placed it horizontally across the dead man's neck. Then with both hands, he pushed, even as the dead man's fingers clawed and scratched at his face. After a few seconds of constant effort, he threw the dead man aside, and was on his feet in a flash. He didn't stop to check if there was any more, instead, he bolted for the door at the base of the stairs. There was some brief sunlight poking through the door's boarded up window, and his eyes lit up when he realised it was the front entrance to the house. With shaking fingers, he fumbled for the lock and managed to get it undone.

He pushed the door open, but was blinded by the sunlight. Nevertheless, he sprinted forwards - just as the dead man's hands clamped around his shoulders. James span, not having time to think, and shoved the dead man away. Then he moved forwards, and raising his tyre iron high over his head, swung it for the creature's face. There was a sickening crunch as metal met jaw, and his assailant fell backwards with the force.

Then James turned, and realised he was back out on the same street he tried to escape earlier - except now it was empty, the dead men having chased him down the road an hour previous. He quickly broke into a sprint, just as the dead man climbed back onto its feet.

Mary bit on a piece of sweet liquorice. It was her own pain reliever as she rolled up the sleeve of her blouse. While sucking on the candy, she peeled off the bandage that was covering her wound. It wasn't a big one, but painful nonetheless. It was stupid, of all the ways someone could get hurt lately, she got a nasty cut while trying to get out of a window. Luckily she was just wearing her tank top then, so the rest of her clothes were fine. Though she had not been in a clothes shop, she didn't expect there was much left to get a new jacket.

She tended to the wound quickly, knowing she had to get out of this place. Car alarms had been going off, paired with shots. People were around, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing. She rolled her sleeve down and put on her jacket. It had been a while since the gunshots. There were far at first, but the last shot was right in front of the boarded up house Mary was in. She didn't dare to peek out then. Surely, it would be safe right now. She had waited at least half an hour, or was it more?

She patted her right leg and felt the gun still strapped there. Then she grabbed her hiking bag from the chair it was resting in and swung it over her shoulder, placing it securely on her back. She walked over to the front door and listened for a bit. She didn't want to run into any of those creeps. After she deemed it safe she opened the door and looked out, only to be startled by a man running across the lawn of the house and didn't seem to notice her at all. She looked towards the way he was coming from and saw one of the dead trying to get on it's feet again.

Mary blinked two times before she could process what was going on, and then looked around her in the hallway for something, anything. She grabbed a pointy umbrella and ran out of the house and towards the horrible looking dead man. With a quick swipe of the umbrella against his shins, the dead man fell flat on his face. Before he could get up, Mary slammed on his head with the umbrella, surprised by her own willpower. When it wasn't moving anymore, she looked up to scan the road for the man that ran.

James Houston - Unknown Street



James skidded to a halt as heard the sound of something solid hitting something less solid. He turned back towards the house he'd fled from, just in time to see a young petite Asian woman in a black leather jacket, jam the painful end of an umbrella into his pursuer's head. He stood there for a few seconds, trying to accept that the woman was indeed alive - and apparently friendly.

James hadn't met another human being since the military death squad burst into his home, and slaughtered his family. A mixed feeling of grave mistrust and longing for companionship split his mind in two. As always, when he was internally conflicted, he resorted to his breathing techniques to bring about some clarity.

In.

And out.

In.

And out.

The clouds of mistrust evaporated from James' mind, and he decided the woman was no threat. She'd of attacked him by now, if she was. And besides, it wasn't like he had anything worth stealing. He started walking back towards the house, casting a glimpse over his shoulder to check to see if any more dead men were about - they weren't, for now.

He stopped about ten paces away from the woman, careful to keep his distance. He assumed that women had probably faired quite poorly in this crisis, as there was no telling what the rest of the menfolk had been getting up to without law and order to restrain them. He decided it was best not to spook her by getting too close.

"Thanks," James said with a smile. "You didn't need to, but thanks all the same. I'm James Houston, and I lived down the end of the street for most of my life."

His stomach rumbled.

"I don't suppose you have a can opener do you?" he asked, embarrassed by his stomach's involuntary noise. "I've not eaten in a fair while... oh and if we could get off the street, that'd be great. They're gone for now, but it's only a matter of time before they get bored of looking for me behind Old Man Cowsky's house and return."

Mary tossed the umbrella to the side when she was sure the dead man would stay dead, but she wished she hadn't when the man that had run past her walked back to her in a steady pace. Her chest went up and down as she watched him. He was taller than she was, but not quite too tall. He looked strong enough to take her tiny frame, but then again, who would expect her to know how to fight? Still she was scared nonetheless. She tried to shrug away the memories that came up about her friend Jane. She wasn't taken by the dead, no, she was taken by a man who hadn't had a piece of ass for a while.

Her hand went to her side, holding the strap that held her gun. Though he stopped quite a distance away from her and it made her ease up. She shouldn't think the worst of everyone. He thanked her with a smile, and the action made her cross her arms and relax. "I didn't know what got into me," she said with a shy smile, looking down at the dead man. She stepped away from the man but not any closer the living one that was standing in front of her. Seeing no harm in it, she spoke again. "I'm Mary Park. I eh, worked in the hospital. Lived there, too, went everything went to.. you know, shit." She made an arm movement to the end of the street, where you could see the roof of the tall hospital couple blocks away.

She couldn't help but giggle at the sound his stomach made, and held her hand in front of her mouth. "I don't have a can opener. But I saw a house a little more down the street, it looked well kept and when I peeked into the yard, I saw vegetables. Maybe we can check there?" The word "we" sound foreign in her mouth for now. Maybe she should stay with this person, or get away from him. She couldn't really get a read. "I have some candy, though I don't think that would help you now."

James Houston - Unknown Street with Mary Park



James let out a light laugh at Mary's offer of candy. It felt good, he couldn't remember the last time he'd found anything amusing.

"No, no it's okay," James said. "You keep it. I've got a can of beans, I'll get it open even if I have to use my head to crack it."

James thought in silence for a few seconds, about what Mary had said of her time at the hospital. "Whoa, I bet you've seen some things? The hospitals were the first to go, if I heard Old Man Cowsky's radio right. I've been sheltering away in an attic for the most part, trying to let my ... um, wounds heal. They still hurt, but I'm as good to go as I'll ever be. The need for food drove me outside, and aside from this tin of beans, I haven't found squat."

Then he remembered she'd mentioned a house, and that its garden had vegetables. This struck James as odd, because he wasn't sure if vegetables could grow on their own accord, or if they needed someone to look after them. James was many things, but a gardener wasn't one of them.

"The house sounds like an option, but we should be careful. Someone may still be living there, though I'd find that hard to believe. You're the first person I've seen in weeks, but then I didn't go much further than the attic's window. Still, we should be careful," he said, before noticing that Mary seemed uneasy about the prospect of teaming up. "Hey, it's okay. I've got bigger things to worry about than sex right now, I'd much rather be trying to get some food. We can worry about the whole man-woman thing once I've eaten, but even then, I plan to be heading out of here pretty quickly. I'm thinking the further away I am from the city, the better." He paused, looking at the bloodied umbrella on the grass. "Besides, judging by the way you killed that thing, I think I'm the one in danger here. Keep your eyes off my ass," he laughed with a wink, hoping his awful joke composition came off better than it sounded.

Mary eyed him. Just silently nodding when he talked about her time at the hospital. It was not something that anyone should be hearing about. It belonged more in a horror movie then here, out on the streets. Mary put her hands in the pocket of her jacket and walked past James towards the well kept house a few houses down the street. "I know we should be careful, I hadn't dared to go there alone, but I think you might be of help. She stopped and made sure he followed her, but then was taken back by his blunt use of words.

She blinked, then smiled at him and shook her head. "Yes, you're in danger. If we don't get of the streets." She shook her head at his attempt at humor, but appreciated it all the same. Mary ducked a little as she walked, looking behind her to James for a second before going to a gate and ending up in a back yard. It was quite dark by now, but still enough to see by. "Help me up," Mary said and waited for James to fold his hands together for her to get a boost. She placed one of her boots on his hands and the other on a branch in the hedge. When she looked over it, she saw the house she was looking for. However, it looked well maintained and difficult to get into.

She jumped back down, looking up at James. "It seems someone does live there. I don't know what to do."

Hunter would stop mid conversation. "...People..." He would grab the shotgun and remind himself he has only three shots left, If things go back he needs to be smart, make his shots count.

Hunter would walk as strait as he could with his ankle with the shotgun in hands. "NY National Guard Come out where I can see you or I'll shoot!" Hunter doesn't want to get into another gun fight, But he feels it's better for him to make the first move, let the people know that if they are hostile they will have to put up a fight that may not be worth it.

James Houston - Outside of Irene's place with Hunter and Mary.



James planted himself in front of Mary and held his tyre iron down by his waist. "National Guard? You're a long way from your unit, soldier," he said. "Last I heard, you guys had pulled back to Florida, but even then the guy on the radio seemed unsure if that was a genuine report."

The man was taller than James, and bigger built. The gun in his hand didn't waver, which told James he was definitely used to them. He cursed his and Mary's stupidity for getting so close to the house, without scoping it out from a safe distance.

"In any case, we don't mean any harm. I'm here for food, and I think she's here for security," he said, motioning to Mary. "But if you start shooting, you better hope that first round hits me square in the chest, because you wont have time to pull that trigger twice."

James was bluffing of course, he wasn't a fighter, but he held a certain hatred for armed men - especially soldiers. Still, if the soldier meant him and Mary harm, James would do what it took to give Mary a chance to run.

Mary caught James his bluff, reminding herself that he had told her he had wounds. Would he be able to defend himself at all. She glanced at the man with gun, and frowned. He too, was walking with a big limp. She debated whether to let them know she's a doctor, but she decided against it.

"Being a National Guard doesn't mean shit anymore," she called back, her hand on the gun on her thigh, even though the hedge prevented the man with the gun from seeing it. "Though since you ask so nicely" She said as she moved more into view, her lower body still covered by a low part of the hedge but her upper body visible. She noticed James moved in front of her, and that moved her a bit. She softened her voice and turned towards the man with the gun. "We just need a good night sleep and some food. Then we can be out of your hairs again."

Hunter would slightly lower the gun. "National guard may not mean as much to you, but it still means something." Hunter would start walking back to the door then he would look back. "It's not up to me if you stay, it's not my house."

There was commotion. On her property. Irene felt a vein starting to bulge out of her forehead when she burst out the front door to see two people hanging around outside her hedge of cacti. And hearing the girl's request to stay? Infuriating. Simply infuriating. Did people have no respect? Well...the apocalypse was hardly a time for respect, in their defense. "Put the damn gun away, Hunter," she ordered softly, with something almost like a growl in her voice. She'd already had a run-in with one stranger today and that was enough for her short temper. "We're not an inn!" she shouted.

Hunter would look confused at first. He would then sling the shotgun. "Irene can we talk for a sec?"

(Wow...this seems...familiar)

James Houston - Outside of Irene's place with Hunter, Irene and Mary.

James was taken aback by the sight of a small chubby looking woman, complete with an apron. She immediately displayed a strong sense of authority, and James did his best to hide his smile at the sight of the tough looking solider being ordered around by her.

"M'am," James said, putting on his best smile. "I don't intend on staying. I just want some food," he nodded over at Mary. "My friend Mary here is looking for what everyone is looking for - safety, or so I think. We don't mean any harm."

He threw his tyre iron to the ground, and reached into his overalls to pull out a tin of beans. "It would be mighty grand of you to spare me a tin opener. I haven't eaten in three days, and at this stage, I'm starting to sympathise with the idea of eating people."