At night the city looks rather peaceful and quiet. No bright lights illuminating the skyline, no loud noices or any other noice to remind us that this large city used to house hunderds of thousands of people. The city has transformed into a home for the infected, with Humans portraying the role of weeds that are systematically being thorn out between the cracks in the concrete. No longer are we at the top of the food chain, the weakest of diseases prove to be capable of toppeling us. Instead of standing together we stand divided, robbing eachother, murdering eachother, we're playing an active part in our own destruction. Some people choose to believe that this is god's hand at play. That this is his way of cleansing the earth, and that those who are left on earth have been deemed unworthy and are thus subjected to the wrath of someone that is supposed to be all forgiving. Yet I have seen no lights ascending up to the heavens, has god also forsaken those whom are faithfull to him? All I have seen is death and pointless slaughter. I have never believed in god and i'm not starting now. But if there is a god, and if I am to meet my end by getting torn apart by those monsters. Then god will have to beg for my forgiveness. - Unknown Survivor.

Fulton Public Library,
Alanta, Georgia
United States of America

The city tends to get scary at night, if not for the light of the moon, the entire city would be nothing but darkness. We are fortunate enough to have the summer provide us with long days and bright nights, but when winter comes around things will be a lot different. The infected are attracted to bright lights as much as they are to sound, they swarm anything out of the ordinary. I have no alarm clock so getting up early is difficult, especially if you spend the day before hauling ass all over the city. Yet I see no alternative, starting bright and early so you have the time to scavenge is key. You don't want to be caught out in the open at night, that's when you start getting paranoid. Because what if one of those infected is more clever then you think, what if he stalks you and waits for the right moment to jump you. Two days ago one of those things was just looking at me from a distance, I could have sworn he gave me a grin before sprinting at me. I don't know, some days i'm more calm then others. I am starting to realise that those creatures are really just as dumb as they appear, for now anyway. John left it at that and closed the journal he had been writing in, for some reason writing down your thoughts helped to process things.

Aside from writing down his thoughts, he also talked to Anastasia about the things he had seen or encountered, though not everything. Things such as fear or doubt were kept to himself, much like any other guy he imagined. John counted himself lucky to have the company of another Human, even more so that of a female. Engaging in conversation with a girl was more enjoyable then conversating with a guy. She was shy at first but she was coming out of her shell more and more, if there is only one other person around you then you're going to get close to them and talk to them eventually. Though John preferred to think that it was because of him being a good person rather then just an available one. Anastasia and he did have things in common, thirst for knowledge and a love for reading. What better place to be for that then a library? Aside from the corpse and blood riddled ground floor, things were nice here.

Neither of them had really ventured down to the ground floor of the building since the day they met, it was full of people they once knew. Most of them dead and torn apart, yet some of their formed friends or colleagues were now roaming around. John had only made one trip down there, and only because an infected police officer was wandering near the stairwell. Yet recently he had felt the need to clear out the lower level and get rid of the corpses, to expand their hold over the building and to be able to search the downstairs area as well. John had become the designated fighter and scavenger, mostly because Anastasia had a slight limp and wasn't as tall and heavily build as him. If anything was going to be cleared out then it was going to be his task to deal with most of the infected whilst she attempted to provide some cover support.

Their system wasn't that bad though, he had gotten used to going outside and exploring. She had gotten used to staying behind and preparing or taking care of things at the library. She also observed things from the roof of the building and wrote down anything she may have seen or heard about from passing survivors. As good as their system was, the library couldn't be a permanent home. They needed to find a better place in the future, one where they could grow their own crops at the very least. In a few years all the food, even the canned food would be spoiled and the people without the means of producing their own sustenance would starve. Temporary measures could be taken though, but it wasn't going to be easy. They needed to get out of the city eventually, and farm land would be plentyfull out there, but if they were ever going to leave they needed a big enough stockpile of supplies to be able to travel large distances if needed. Finding food or water would be more difficult out in the open country side.

John opted to go find Anastasia, figuring she was probably reading or writing things down in her own journal. ''Anna, I was wondering about possibly setting up a little farm on the top of the roof. I'm no expert on agriculture but if I could find enough dirt we will have the basics ready. Then we would just need to find a farm shop somewhere in the city for seeds and everything else we need. I know it's not impossible, i've seen roof top gardens before. I've also been thinking about clearing out the ground floor, we'd have more space that way.'' He offered her a smile and moved to sit down next to her. ''What are you reading?'' Aside from serious matter, light conversation was also nice to have, discussing books has become the new form of discussing things you've seen on television or heard on the radio.

SunTrust Plaza,
Atlanta, Georgia
United States of America

Several weeks ago a military supply crate, one of several being dropped to the military safe zone at the time, got entangeled with one of the highest towers in Atlanta. For days people speculated and watched the skies, waiting for it to come loose. Yet here was no such luck. Recently though, the weather has been wearing the parachute down and it's starting to show holes and tears in the material. Unfortunately this can't be seen from the ground untill something is actually torn loose by the wind. Worse yet, with the people having become used to the sight much like decorations on a tree, most people wouldn't even notice. Those that do, will just have to wait for the day that the remants of the parachute are blown clear and that hopefully, rather then crashing to the ground, the crate will float safely to an area below where it can be inspected.

Peachtree Tower,
Alanta, Georgia
United States of America

Brian lay there in the sun, its warmth spilling over him as his friends swam in the pool among the floats. Laughing manically as they splashed water at one another, Brian smiled to himself. Their manic childish laughter echoed around him like the chattering of rifle fire - he took the last of his fresh lemonade and poured it over his dry lips, just a few drips dropped down and their cool touch soon disappeared.

Brian opened his eyes.

The sun was just rising over the city and its rays crept around the stone pillar to his right and streaked across his waking face. Below him in the streets he heard gunshots one after the other, ripping through infected flesh, or maybe just normal flesh. Brian hoped not.

Humans were dying out, the entire city was eerily silent for the most part. Some days Brian would go round with nothing but his own breath and the sound of his footsteps to keep him company. Lifting his hands from under himself he rolled over, blinking as a drop of water impacted on his cheek. Wiping it from his face he sat up with his arms behind him and arched his neck back until he heard the satisfying click. Falling onto his back once more, he rolled onto his front and pushed himself up and off the floor. He had set up camp at the very top of the Tower, good vantage point and plenty of fresh air for the lungs. The whole place had been under maintenance so he climbed up the scaffolding, almost falling a few times, he took the rope the builders had been using to pulley up a bucket , and took it all the way to the top. Tying it around one of the pillars and securing it with another rope, he made a nice little secure hold to grip when he took himself down to street level.

Today was the day Brian had decided to venture down into the tower. He knew that the top two floors should be empty because they were closed off and not in use, but you never know. Taking the bucket from under the drip in the left corner he splashed water over his face and searching blindly for his towel. His hands scanning over his rucksack he gripped the soft material and held it to his face, dabbing the beads of now dirty water away and squeezing the remains from his beard. Shaving foam. Brian thought.

I need myself some shaving foam.

Downtown Peachtree Street
Alanta, Georgia
United States of America

Morning time...it lacked the usual, familiar sounds of birds chirping, crickets scratchings, and squirrels scurrying...something he felt that he severely missed. Regardless, he had long since pushed away such longings and desires, adapting to the situation as it was presented to him. No longer could he sit on top of the ranch house, plucking away at his grandad's old guitar, as the roosters crowed and the birds sung their sweet melodies. No longer could he get dirty and grimy in the pig pen, wrestling with the grungy little beasts. No longer could he ride his three-wheeler through the mud and leaves, chasing after that buck that had long since fled when he heard the arrow notching. It was all dead and gone...and he would have to deal with that;; He had already dealt with that. Regardless, the distant, rare sounds of bullets had woken him up a lot earlier that morning, around 3 A.M. or so.

He had passed out at around 8 or 9 PM that previous night, after securing his temporary 'shelter' with a variety of different home-made traps - which involved certain lengths of rope and a bunch of old, cracked dishes and pans. Ever since he had been awoke, he didn't do much;; He simply stayed where he had fell asleep, eating a small portion of his packaged deer meat, some water, and then began the daily maintenance of all of his equipment. Wipe the bow down with some oil and an old rag, sharpen the arrow's head with his utility knife, and then use an older knife he had found in the 'shelter' to sharpen his utility knife. Make sure the feather fletchings were all correct and true, so that the arrows would fly true, and then tighten the durable string on the bow itself. This had taken a few hours, and thusly, led up to this moment in time.

His temporary 'shelter' was nothing more than a small, two-bedroom home that had the fortune to not have been looted already. It was hidden away near an alley, and was rather grungy and dirty - obviously, it hadn't taken a lot of money to buy the house, judging by it's state. There were no one here;; no blood, or bodies, or even clothing, although he had noticed, and used, different objects such as dishes and old kitchen knives to booby-trap the house and maintain his equipment. The previous owners must've had ducked out and ran away with their personal belongings once the shit hit the fan. He couldn't blame them;; In the beginning of this all, Michael could only imagine how horrified and fearful they must've been. It was truly a shame that this all had to go down...but that's just the way the cookie crumbled. Life was filled with hardships, and the death of his grandparents only solidified that wise saying.

'Enough of that.' When was the last time he had talked, anyways? He snorted to himself, standing from the dusty, torn couch, and sitting his dark-colored recurve bow onto the old coffee table. Hard eyes glanced over the cache. His heavy-duty travelling backpack was sat on the table, a canteen holstered to it's side, right beside his leather-wrapped quiver, filled with his newly-sharpened and added arrows. Beside that, was a sharp, retractable knife, it's scarred silver casing battered. And finally, beside that, was a dark red crowbar, dried blood still specking the top piece. Michael leaned forward, grabbing an oiled rag to wipe the blood off, and then stood back up. Everything was primed and ready to go...it was time to go out and search for supplies.

He slid the utility knife into it's holster on his right pants leg, making sure that the strap keeping it there was secure. Straightening, he slung the quiver over his back, making sure that it's dark brown strap was secure, before grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulders, making sure that it wasn't squeezing against the quiver too tight - an arrow being stuck, whilst he was attempting to notch, was something that he did not want to happen again. Satisfied, he strapped the crowbar to the right side of his backpack, before taking a glance around. Everything was taken care of. He had all of his equipment. His knife in it's holster, his quiver on his back, his backpack - which had his crowbar and canteen, and he had his recurve bow gripped securely in his calloused hands.

Nodding grimly to himself, Michael zipped up his jacket, before pulling up the hood. A short walk later, in which he carefully stepped over a couple of snares and crunched glass, Michael twisted the knob towards the left, instead of the right, which would have made a sharp squeaking noise. Opening the door slightly, the man slipped out into the still fairly dark city, his water-proof boots padding quietly in the water-drenched sidewalk, even as rain itself fell heavily across the world. His first stop? That boarded up super-market he had noticed, whilst scouting the city yesterday.

Five Points Station/Metropolitan,
Atlanta, Georgia
United States of America



One hundred and fourty miles. That was the distance between Atlanta and Birmingham. A two hour car drive at most but walking said distance took Tori and Benjamin took a week and three days. They couldn't stay on the interstate otherwise they would encounter infected so they stuck to the railways running between the two. The car was abandoned back in Birmingham. It raised the chance of attracting the attention of infected or bandits which meant they had to walk all the way to Atlanta hoping that there was a safe place there. Walking a mile wasn't too difficult but the walking of miles everyday had worn on the pair. Spirits were low and supplies were starting to run thin as little hope held out that anywhere was safe at all.

Five Points Station was the final stop along their journey between the two cities and one which they hope would bear fruit unlike the others along the way. But hopes weren't always fulfilled no matter how hard one tried. It was obvious from a distance that Five Points was not safe enough to stay at with quite a few infected shambling across the tracks and on the platform. The feeling of trying as hard as possible to find safety and failing hit the pair hard under the noon sun. Tori stiffled tears as they walked up to Marietta street. Cars abandoned long ago were scattered in the road. A few corpses littered the ground, some were human others infected.

After thirty minutes of walking, the pair arrived at Metroploitan. The apartment buildings were obviously upper end which meant looters probably had already gone through there which meant it was safe from bandits at the very least. "I..I think we should stay here for the night. Maybe we can find some supplies in there which haven't been taken or completely ruined." Tori said to Benjamin as they stood in the foyer. Benjamin was slow to answer Tori with a dejected "Sounds like a plan." as they walked as silently as possible through the ransacked foyer. Of course there would be nothing supply wise in foyer but there were three spare keys to rooms in the Metropolitan.

Searching through the apartments gave no more than a few cans of food which Tori placed into her backpack. The third room they searched was on the fourth floor and near the stair well. It seemed like somebody had prepared to stay in that room by blocking the door with a dresser which Benjamin promptly moved out of the way. The bed itself was thrown on the floor and the covers were taped over the windows. The TV which had been in the room was stolen long ago but several candles were strewn throughout the room showing signs of having been used, though not recently. The pair decided to shack down in the room for the night. Their hopes were to move on once again in the morning to find survivors in the area and scavenge for supplies while they could.

10 Terminus Place
Atlanta, Georgia
United States of America

It was morning once again. It was quiet, too quiet. Gone were the usual chirping of the birds that used to herald the break of dawn. Gone were the sounds of traffic, the roads now stood silent. Insects, however were as present as ever. The flies were still around, ignorant of the way the world has changed. The world was no longer what it had used to be, and the many people that roamed around the world had been decreased to an alarming amount. Most of the population had fallen to the virus,(as she called it) and risen up as the walking dead.

People had to learn to survive by themselves or band up together with others. Supplies that began plentiful, slowly dwindled as looters and hoarders got their greedy mitts onto them. Money had gone the way of the dodos as they were no one left to buy or sell things to. Trading and bartering had became commonplace once more, and civilization seemed to had taken several steps backwards.

Olivia fell asleep early last night at around 9PM. But, what did time matter anymore? All that mattered was day and night. It was like time no longer existed, as there were no more schedules to follow, no need to report for work, no trains to catch and no appointments to keep. The only thing that mattered now was day and night, when the sun rose and set. She was pretty sure that she heard gunshots late last night. The world was quiet now, and shots like that tend to echo for miles and miles, unhindered by any other form of noise. She was half asleep and thus couldn't tell how far away it was. But, gunshots meant one thing. People. Survivors. Getting from a rather plush bed, she took several moments to gaze at the body-length glass windows that that in front of her.

Sunlight streamed in through the unobscured windows, curtains parted wide aside. It had been a stroke of luck that she had found a place as luxurious as this. Scrounging through the nearby office complex at Terminus 100, she had managed to find a set of keys that had a key tag on it that labelled the unit number and the words "Home Sweet Home." Well, chances are that the owner would have no use of it any longer, so why not use it then. She had been on the road for some time now, and it was great to finally have a safe place to stay in.

Grabbing her backpack, and checking to ensure that she had all her belongings with her, she fastened on her belt, together with her machete in its sheath on her waist accompanied with the SIG Sauer pistol in its holster on the opposite side of the belt. Fully equipped, she got out of the room, and shut the door, locking it with the key. It was her home now. While walking around Peachtree Street the day before, she had came across a boarded-up supermarket. She didn't give it a second though then, as finding a place to live in was more of a primary concern. Now, that she had that settled, it gave her time to spend on others, such as this.

Mitchell ST SW
Atlanta, Georgia
United States

Silence, it was the eerie silence of the world that took so much getting used to. All the times where he had wanted silence, where he wanted all the noise from cars, plains, horns, and people to just go away. But now, everything was much more quiet...noise...noise had just become another enemy, another means to lead to another bloody end at the hands of monsters. But still, despite the danger of noise Deven couldn't deny that he missed all the sounds that filled the air before this madness all started. Sure sometimes the silence was beautiful and down right even welcoming. Other times he just wanted it to leave, he wanted to be back in that distant place where the world was so very loud.

Though today unlike almost every other day for these past two and a half months, where he would wake up to silence, he instead awoke to the patter of rain. The morning light was barely able to reach through the cloud coverage and around the barricade he had over the window, which was in reality, just an armoire tipped into the window ensuring no easy access nor a clear view of the room. He pushed himself up resting his upper body weight on his left hand as he rubbed his eyes with his right, brushing away any sleep that formed in the corners of his eyes.

Once done rubbing his eyes he dropped his arm back down and held himself up as he gazed about the room blinking his eyes as he did. The room was almost entirely dark thanks to the overcast day and to the armoire blocking what little light broke through the clouds. The rest of the room sat in a state of disarray, there were bits of debris of shattered glass and wood from broken picture frames, clay and glass chunks from broken vases and a plethora of other things laying across the floor including one baby sock, which Deven had found crumpled up in the middle of the room the night before. Whenever he looked at the sock he refused to think of what the fate of the it's owner may be.

In the corner of the room farthest from the door, which he had blocked with a dresser the night before, was a small area Deven had cleaned for himself and his gear. It was a fairly poor cleaning job as it mostly just involved him brushing away any debris he could find in the dark of night with his foot, but it did the job of giving him a relatively flat area to lay out his bedroll. Deven moved his tongue around in his mouth as he realized just how dry his mouth was, figuring he must have slept with his mouth open the night before he reached for the canteen sitting atop his backpack. Grabbing the metal bottle and unscrewing the lid, Deven proceeded to take a long fulfilling sip before lowering the canteen from his lips and sighing dishearteningly as he shook the now very nearly empty canteen.

"Damn" He mumbled. Talking to himself, at least in small little comments, was a habit he had been developing over these past two-ish months. It wasn't necessarily a bad habit as it helped him to keep his sanity and to remember the sound of his own voice, even though it may be seen as odd to some people, but in all honesty in this crazy fucked up world, who wasn't at least a little "strange" or "odd"?

After pulling himself out of his little bed, Deven pulled his pack towards him and began fishing through it for one of his four water bottles. Quickly finding one he unscrewed the cap and poured it's contents into his still opened canteen being extremely careful not to spill a single drop. After finishing the pour he gentle shook the canteen testing it's water levels, he could easily fit another full bottles worth of water in there, but after sparing a nervous glance at his remaining three bottles he instead elected to screw the caps back on and return the empty water bottle to his pack. He had found over time that keeping his canteen less then full helped him to conserve water, though he still made sure that he kept himself hydrated, he just had to make sure that he did so to the minimum in order to make his supplies last, that was at least until he could find more water.

Pushing himself up off the floor, Deven returned his canteen to it's usual place at his side connected to his belt before making his way to the window of his little shelter. He peered through the small crack of window on the edge of the armoire, scanning the immediate area for threats. Immediately he spied the forms of two undead which he had taken to just calling infected, an ironic term considering they were all already infected. The two infected were shuffling through the grassy field between his shelter and a row of trees that separated this apartment complex's yard from the next complex's yard. Through the trees he was able to spot at least one other infected in the yard of the next complex, other then that he was unsure. But these three infected where not the goal of his little scouting, no, beyond the next complex's yard was a street, the two being separated by another row of trees. On the far side of that street just barely visible through the trees was a sign for a "Northside Grocery". This had been the entire reason he had elected to sleep in this area, the other night he spied what he thought might have been a grocery store, but he was unwilling to risk the possible venture at night where he would mostly be relying on moonlight and flashlight to guide his way so instead he elected to backtrack slightly and find a place to rest.

Now during the day and thanks to a lucky pick of lodging Deven was able to clearly see the sign, which had been nearly invisible in the darkness of night, and could even make out the entrance to the local market despite the rainy overcast. Smiling happily to himself Deven turned back to his gear and he began rolling up his bedroll before returning it to it's spot near the top of his backpack. Once that was done he did a quick sweep of the area making sure he didn't miss anything before reaching into his still opened back and pulling out one of his granola bars putting it in his pocket. After that he zipped up the opened pockets and stood, lifting the pack with him before putting it on, making sure it was nice and tightly secured as he did.

Once he was certain he had everything and was ready he reached into his pocket and pulled out the granola bar, "Here's to a hopefully lucky haul." He silently said before opening the bar and taking a bite.

Reaching down and picking up his hoodie, Brian grabbed the arms and spun it the right way round. Pushing his arms in and finding the holes he stuck his head in after them, moving this way and that until his crown popped up where his head should be, with a small jerk his head broke through. While he adjusted the hood and brushed away some of the flecks of paint and grime, Brian probed his backpack for food. Gripping a plastic wrapper he retracted his arm, only to be met with an empty chocolate wrapper - he threw it away annoyed.

Reaching in for a second time his hands came to another plastic wrapper and he brought it out to see what it was, this time mercifully it wasn’t empty. Biting at the wrapper and peeling it away from the energy bar, Brian took two large bites and chewed steadily. This wasn’t too awful . As he chewed his eyes wondered over his surroundings and he stood up, walking over to the centre of...well whatever it was, he called it home. Looking across the city Brian saw the Georgia Dome to the west, still weeping a murky smoke, and the metallic SunTrust towards the north.

The damned 'care package' was still hanging perilously on the edge of the tower, mocking everyone who saw it. It wasn’t worth it - Brian had decided the day it came down. For one thing, everyone in a miles radius would have seen the drop, never mind the entire city hearing the plane go over. No. He wouldn’t risk falling into a trap or tussling with another desperate survivor for something some tool in the army sent down thinking they were doing the cities remaining a favour. Chances were it would fall the entire way and smash on the sidewalk; luck was a bitch these days.

Finally swallowing Brian washed the bar down with three long gulps of a water bottle, leaving it half empty (or half full ) he pushed the bottle back into his bag and threw the wrapper off and into the wind.

Pushing his trainers on and tying them up nice and tight, he grabbed his bag, stuffing his knife into his back pocket and putting the pistol into its holster on his hip. Leaving his makeshift spear where it was, Brian walked over to the door that grew up from the floor. Picking a small broken brick up off the floor, Brian struck at the lock a few times until it gave. The door opened with an echoing dull note, and Brian peered down the ladder that lead all the way down to the top floor. Dropping the brick to the bottom, he waited.

Rustling of feet and groans carried on the air and Brian pulled his head back just in time as an infected stumbled into the small hollowed tube. He heard its almost quizzical groaning as he walked back over to his spear, picking it up and checking its blade; he slowly made his way back over. Risking a quick look down, the thing was walking away again, content with its search.

"Oh no you don’t, get back here." Brian said to himself.

Taking another brick from the floor, he dropped it down. Smacking off the metal ladders and ricocheting off the walls, it landed at the bottom with a loud thud. The infected came back again, like a dog. Finding as many bricks as he could Brian piled them up by the door. The place was covered in them, they had been tearing some of the stuff up and replacing it with new bricks, crumpled plastic sheets covered the floor and pale paint stained the walls - the occasional tool left lying around.

"Up here!" He shouted down to it.

Its head snapped back suddenly and it clenched its bloody teeth at Brian, reaching out and clawing at the ladders with its black and crimson stained hands as it couldn't grip. It had fixed its cold glare on him and was growling and biting ferociously, hungry for flesh.

The first brick sailed down and crunched into its shoulder, leaving its right arm limp and flapping, its left still smacking uselessly at the ladder. The second impacted on its knee and it toppled over, all the while still growling at Brian. The next two smacked into its torso and its growling stopped, the last graciously crushed its skull.

With an underwhelming silence, Brian swung his leg carefully over the edge and began to slowly climb down the ladder - into the building.

Five Points Station/Metropolitan,
Atlanta, Georgia
United States of America

Benjamin Young

The smell of sweat protruded the room, the heavy heaving of breath resounded all over Ben's sleeping quarters. Benjamin had just finished his recently thought up exercise regime, though he had only managed to barely do half, but it was a start. He thinks that in this god forsaken, barren world, that maintaining being fit hands him the best chance at survival. Being overweight and slow would get him killed, is what he was thinking when he planned this.

Benjamin and Victoria had planned to scavenge the nearby areas for supplies and maybe some willing survivors, like the Five Points convenience store or the nearby McDonalds. Maybe the convenience store had some medical supplies or necessities which was vital or the McDonalds had more food and water to replenish their dwindling supply, though they had a relatively abundant water supply to spare from a previous scavenging trek.

Luckily the water was still running, albeit only stark cold showers since the heater was damaged and neither Benjamin nor Victoria had the know-how to repair it but it was something. With the cool water trickling down Benjamin's back, he could only think of the world before it happened. How everything was so much better and peaceful, but now with everyone standing divided and stabbing each other's back, there was a war on two fronts, one with the walking dead and the other with humans themselves.

Finally finishing his shower that took longer than anticipated because he indulged in contemplative brooding. He was slowly wiping off the wet areas and reached for his jeans, which didn't smell to well but worked for the time being. After he put on his pants, Victoria entered the room and stood somewhat shocked at him. "Would you knock please?" he said to Victoria who was just standing there with a mock grin. "Anyway, I figured there were two areas that might have some left over supplies that the Bandits might have not gotten, or hell maybe some survivors. It was over at the Five points convenience store or even the McDonalds nearby, maybe the pharmaceutical? Your call. he said to her, still in her relatively shocked disposition.

Mitchell ST SW
Atlanta, Georgia
United States

While he ate his granola bar Deven, once more made his way over to the window and gazed through. This new world had caused him to be very meticulous when it came to ventures like this, he had to make sure he hadn't missed anything or ensure the situation didn't change. Sure enough as he gazed through the small slit of window, it only took Deven a few moments to notice the movement on the street. It wasn't long until he saw what it was that was moving and as their figures became clear Deven's heart dropped.

They were survivors, a small group of them and judging by their matching colors, style of dress and demeanor they must have been some sort of gang before this all started. After glancing between them and the small market up ahead it was clear they had their eyes set on the same goal. But something happened, it seemed one of their members had hurt himself while messing with a rather luxurious car they passed, for Deven could see the younger boys blue shirt being slowly stained by more and more crimson as he clutched his arm to his chest, at least that's what he had managed to see before the other members crowded around him.

A few moments passed before their small gang began moving back in the direction they had come from. Deven's heart quickly rose up from his stomach as he watched them leave, this meant he had a chance he could still search the grocery. But he had to be fast, there was still a chance that gang could return to search the grocery and he had to be in and out before they, possibly come back.

With this in mind Deven looked over the area one last time before finishing his granola bar, dropping the wrapper onto the floor he then made his way to the door. Once there he, as silently as possible, pushed aside the dresser he had moved in front of the door. Once that was out of the way, he cracked the door slightly and peeked his head out. The doors of these apartments led directly out to a small parking lot reserved for those that lived in the complex, checking his surrounding once more Deven sighted three infected within the boundaries of the small parking lot, though with all of the cars and the distance between him and them he would easily be able slip by undetected.

Lowering himself down to a crouch Deven pulled the door open just to the point where he would fit through before stepping out, pulling the door silently closed behind him. He had been extremely luck that this apartment's previous owner hadn't thought to lock the door when they left or else he wouldn't have been nearly as fortunate as he already was. Once out of the apartment Deven made his way to the yard he had scouted through his window, moving with a bit of haste to his step and sticking close to the wall of the building as he did so. Once there Deven peered around the corner of the building and scouted the field again, the two infected had shambled down to the far side of the yard and were far enough away for him to not worry about being heard by them. While the infected in the next yard was still standing in the middle of the yard staring mindlessly at the yards complex which was in the opposite direction of Deven's current planned path.

Moving away from the wall Deven set off at a light jog making sure to keep his head on a swivel for any infected that he may not have seen. Soon enough he reached the row of trees that separated the two yards and now he could see this yard more clearly including the two infected near the base of the apartment building that he had missed, Happily they were no where near close enough for him to worry about, the only one he had to somewhat worry about was the infected in the middle of the yard. If he messed up it was possible the infected would hear him and turn to investigate at that point it would see him and he would be forced to kill it, hopefully if he had to do so he could do it without alerting the other two infected, or any others for that matter.

With as much of a lightness to his step as he could he set off once more at a light jog on his way across the field. As he neared the infected he eyed it cautiously looking for any sort of reaction that would hint to him being heard, but as he passed the infected by it continued to stare mindlessly at the building completely unaware of the potential meal moving behind it. Once Deven reached the next row of trees he set to scanning the street which only had a few car on the sides of the road and no other sort of cover. Now he could clearly see the bloodied up broken window of the white Mustang the gang's younger member had messed with, two infected had gathered around the car, likely attracted by the noise they had made. But that only helped Deven more, for those two infected having been lured away now gave him a straight shot across the street and to the market.

With raised hopes Deven set off across the street keeping his head on a swivel as he jogged across the extremely exposed street. Now that he knew there were people he he knew he had to be more careful, if they saw him it could spell trouble, they didn't seem like the friendliest bunch. He had come here knowing he might encounter some other survivors but he had no reason to engage with an unwelcoming bunch such as them.

As Deven finished crossing the street he only sparred a quick scan of the area, seeing the two infected were quite a distance away Deven quickly made his way to the entrance of the small grocery. The grocery store's automatic doors were open and likely would remain that way thanks to the lack of electricity. Poking his head around the corner of the door Deven scanned for any infected, seeing none in the immediate area Deven slipped into the small market hoping to be able to clear out the store before that gang even had a chance of catching him.

Metropolitan,
Atlanta, Georgia
United States of America

Tori had woken up early in the morning, a habit she had picked up after Ben woke her up so often in the morning. Though she felt exhausted from hours of walking the day before, Tori knew that the New World had no place for exhaustion. Exhaustion was the thing of the past now like refrigeration, microwaves, and even printed news. Tori couldn't even remember the last time she heated food up over something which wasn't a fire. Hot water was also something she missed on a day to day basis. Tori and Ben had been lucky that the water was still running, at least for now. Then again, in the boiling heat of summer cold water was better than nothing. If only they could find a supply of water which could be trusted to be pure then they could have enough water to stay in a single area.

Ever since the infection had arrived Tori had doubted that any open source of water, including opened bottles she didn't open, could have been contaminated by a corpse or an infected which had been dumped there after being believed dead. One could never be too careful when it came to the spread of a virus. Bottles of water were rare to find since the majority of them were looted by those looking to get the upper hand when it came to survival. In the end, Tori decided to play it on the safe side rather than risking an infection from open bottles. She had even decided to bursh her teeth only one a week to save water.

Tori had taken to working out twice a week, mostly doing squats, leg lifts, push ups, and sit ups. A weak survivor was a dead survivor Tori told herself every time she began her work out. If you can't run from the infected, then you would die. Strength is key in securing one's own hideout or protecting yourself. Tori's workout wasn't as intensive as Ben's was, considering he was more use to a constant workout than she was. But, Tori had been improving since she started three weeks back. Now she was sure she could run a mile in under ten minutes and life at least fifty pounds. For Tori that was a good enough improvement but that didn't stop her from working out. She couldn't let herself rely solely on Ben for protection and carrying heavy items any more. She wanted to pull her own weight and Tori sort of meant it literally, though that would be difficult.

The apartment's central room gave off a dull light,what light came through the blinds that is, from the early morning sun and Tori could tell that Ben had still been awake before her. The sound of the shower ending meant that it was safe enough to enter so Tori crossed the room and opened the door to where Ben had decided to sleep. Tori was astonished to find a shirtless Ben standing in the middle of the room. She stood still in the doorway and Ben mentioned several areas where they could look for some supplies. "Uh, yeah. All of those places seem like good places to scavenge. If we find anything in the McDonald's, it is likely to just be water and spoiled for so we shouldn't stay there too long. The convinence store probably still has something but we should be careful going there. Gotta make sure nobody's living there. The pharmacy probably had all the basic things looted such as bandaids, pain pills, and et cetera. But we need to get medical supplies anyway." Tori said to Ben as she focused her thoughts on looting.

"Actually, now that you bring it up, that map and key I found the other night when we came here probably would provide some supplies but we gotta be careful there. It's a long walk up to the area indicated on the map and we would have to pass through some formerly populated areas. Plus, it might already be looted for all we know. If we ever find more people that we trust we should go there and check though." Tori said as she pulled the map out of her pocket and laid it down on the table. The circled street was north of where the pair was now and, though going further north would probably allow them to find supplies, it would also pass them through some serious areas where infected probably roamed. Plus their food supplies were running low so leaving the area could be dangerous. Tori folded up the map and stuffed it back into her pocket before leaving Ben's room to grab her bag and weapons. "I'll be waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs Ben so hurry up!" Tori called out after having moved the dresser out from in front of the door. She walked silently through the hallway with her machete in hand and went down the stair well where she waited for her partner.

Olivia was at the lobby of her condominium complex when she came across a rather startling scene. She heard the throaty roar of a powerful engine, and vehicles meant people. Moving towards the glass windows, she saw the source of the commotion. The engine belonged to a luxury sedan, which she recognised as an Audi, from the logo on its rear. The car was black, with its windows tinted. The sound of brakes being applied suddenly drew her attention to the obstructions that lay on the road, several derelict cars and a whole mess of the infected. These were the common slow bunch, which she referred to as the walkers. The car stood there for a short pause, before one of the front passenger door opens, and a rather burly sized man stepped out of the car. He was dressed in a fancy suit and tie, complete with a black trench coat. He walked over to the part of a car blocking the road, and began pushing it away.

Unfortunately, the loud hi-pitched protest by the offending car drew a lot of unwanted attention from the walkers. In response, he pulled out a silenced carbine from his coat, and starts planting head shots in them one by one. But the commotion of thuds brought on by the walkers hitting the ground, soon brought along more of the infected in the road. Sensing that their friend needed help, the rest of the doors of the car opened, and more men exited from the vehicle, all dressed identically like the first men. Two of them took out silenced rifles, while the third one took out a silenced pistol.

In hardly any time at all, the entire street was cleared of infected, and the men pushed the car out of their way, heading back to the car and it sped away, leaving the corpses of the dead in their wake. That was great, she thought to herself, at least she had a safer route to the supermarket now. Exiting the complex, she began the trek towards the boarded-up supermarket a short distance away. Hopefully she would be able to find something of use there.

Upon reaching the location of the supermarket, she noticed that it was a lot larger than she remembered. Olivia then went around scouting around the perimeter of the building for another point of exit. You never knew when they would come into handy, especially with possibility of encountering the infected everywhere. She noticed that most, if not all of the windows were boarded up, with the exception of the main door. Eventually, she found another exit at the far right side of the building, with a ramp leading up what was possibly the delivery bay, where vans and trucks had delivered the goods when the world was still normal. Any presence of boarding was absent as well. Satisfied that they were more than one places to escape from, she unsheathed her machete and open the grimy and dusty doors to the abandoned supermarket, stepping into the premises.

Stepping down and off the ladder, Brian found himself confronted with the most peculiar sight. The entire room was covered in white blankets and sheets, the occasional splash of colourful paint on walls, bodies strewn in all directions. In a pile in the corner were some of these white sheets, it wasn't cold at night by any stretch of the word, but he could use them none the less. Throwing a few over his shoulder at a time, he made 3 runs carrying them to the top then returning for more. When he returned and there were none left to collect, he began to move the bodies and sheets aside, wrapping the corpses in white and rolling them off to the right hand side.

Once he had done this, after around 20 minutes, he headed for the far door which led out and onto the balcony that surrounded the huge room. At first the wide door wouldn't budge, so he gave it a quick knock with his shoulder and it burst free. The wind rushed through Brian’s hair and made his eyes water, stepping out and looking across the way, Brian saw someone come out of the door on the roof of the building opposite, around a storey shorter than the Peachtree. They walked to the edge and looked like they were about to jump - it was only then that Brian saw the walkers following him.

"Don’t do it! No!" Brian screamed desperately, his voice being snatched by the wind.

Hurriedly lifting his pistol from its holster, Brian placed his right gun hand wrist on his left forearm and aimed carefully for the door. The man down there, at least they looked male, had taken his own gun out too. Firing one shot, he saw the bullet rip through an infected torso and watched it drop to the floor, his second shot completely missed.

Why isn't he shooting?

Firing desperately into the mob of infected Brian hit only a few, there were too many, he saw the man looking up to him, his arm raising to his head, and Brian saw him fall backwards as his head jerked to one side. The infected swarmed on the body, and he had to look away. Fuck!

Walking back into the room Brian closed the window and sat on one of the expensive chairs, throwing his feet up onto the table. This wasn't how people were meant to die; this wasn't how it was meant to be. After a long time lying back with his eyes closed, with such thoughts running through his head, Brian got up off the chair and began to search the room for anything he might find useful.

He would try and make his way to the opposite building, give that man a proper funeral somehow.

Fulton Public Library,
Atlanta, Georgia
United States of America

James, I’ve been thinking lately, a lot more than usual, about you and wondering if you’re still alive but even if you’re not I will try my best to be hopeful anyway because I’m afraid of what I’ll do if you’re not okay anymore. John and I have been here for a while and he’s kind James, more so than I would have expected from anyone anymore and he spends his time talking to me or trying to find us things to survive while I attempt to make our little space easier to survive in. I know, it’s been weeks since I wrote last, a letter to a recipient that I might never see again, but it’s been a while since the I’ve felt that it’s pointless to try and smile, it’s been a long while since I saw anyone that wasn’t John and I’m afraid of what will happen if we’re the only people left really alive anymore. I can hear John coming so I’ll talk to you more later. –Anna

The young woman had started writing after she had found blank pages in one of the offices, letting the despair she felt some days onto the pages instead of into her smiles. Most days she spent her time with her face buried in a book, learning about something while John was away or instead conversing with him about anything to keep their minds off of what they knew was outside of the library or on the lower floor. Other days she would go with him, with her slingshot and the pouch she kept on her hip to carry her ammunition. Often when he was away she would take care of things here; a rather stereotypical female role but t was what she knew and could do because of her leg and asthma. With what skills she had she had managed to patch clothing after he’d brought back a sewing kit with him upon her request, since she’d pulled a hole in her shirt a few days prior to it.

She opened the pages of the book she’d been reading before she’d started writing just as the man walked into the room and over to her, taking a seat next to her on the window bench she seemed to love to read on while the dapples sunlight from the tree next to the library cast dancing shadows on the pages as she turned between them. Most students would take notes or the time to read the pages before flipping them though she had only to scan the contents to recall it perfectly from her own memories. Some had told her it was a gift, a blessing where no many tragedies had taken place in her life, but now it was more of a curse because of everything she’d seen since the beginning. It was a horrible mess of images and videos in her mind that she could never simply be rid of and wouldn’t fade like she was sure they would for John one day when they really were safe for the first time since the attack on the library. She shifted over as he sat down, crossing her legs at the ankles quietly, her bare feet hanging a mere two inches from the floor with her broken leg just barely twisted a strange way to most who looked at her.

“I got a pack of lettuce seeds from someone last time you were away actually.” She responded, holding up the book she’d been reading to show him that it hadn’t been pleasure reading; she’d been thinking the same thing as him and had found as much as she could on growing vegetables in the city. “We’d need wood to make the planters and nails to hold it together still; it could make a lot of noise and attract more of them. Other survivors might see it too once it starts growing but I think it would still be beneficial for us to grow our own food.” She slid her folded page into the book as she closed it on her lap. Today she was wearing one of the few dresses that they had found that fit her a few weeks ago so she would be able to be comfortable and have something else to wear when she was inside or what else they had was hanging by the open windows to dry. With what they’d found inside the library the girl had been able to set them up on the roof in such a way that they would catch as much rain water as possible for them to drink and use for washing but they always had to be careful because they never knew when it was going to rain again.

“I’ve been practicing with my slingshot too, with the rocks you bring back for me and I think I could hit a bird hard enough to daze it at least. Pigeons are small but they’d be better than canned who-knows-what. If we can get the planters to work we can expand them and be able to successfully sustain ourselves until we find a better, safer place for us to settle.” Purposefully, Anastasia ignored his comment on the ground floor, afraid to face what it was that waited for her downstairs, just like she tended to avoid going to the stairs as much as possible, favouring the upper floors and roof where most of the carnage was far enough away that it wasn’t personal for her. She still had nightmares about it, the way that that things nose crunched beneath her foot two months ago, how she’d hit it so hard that it’s brain had flattened beneath the thick volume and she’d dropped it. The stench of it was clear to her and she remembered all too well how that fear has tasted in her mouth. Sometimes she woke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat but silent, others it was a scream and her thrashing about that provoked John to rouse her and tell her that it was alright, that she wasn’t alone and it wasn’t real. But to her it was very real, and very hard to forget.

@Sven the Silent

Metropolitan,
Atlanta, Georgia
United States of America

Victoria being one to not get flustered easily, even though she did look a little astonished there. He simply nodded or hummed in reply as she mentioned the possible things that could be looted in the areas he mentioned, "Smart as always are we?" he said to her in reply as he got and wore his inner shirt and then his outworn jacket. It smells a tad funny but nothing like a perfume could fix he thought to himself, spraying a bit of his perfume over it. He tried reaching for the area where he though Josh's badge was, but he couldn't find it. He slowly started to freak out but then he felt the bump in the pocket of his jeans and rifling through he noticed it was present there, he breathed a small sigh of relief.

Grabbing his rucksack and starting to pack a few water bottles and some other basic necessities. Putting it on his back and finally grabbing his Metal bat and gripping it tightly. He also grabbed his ever trusty Walter P99 and tucked it behind his back. Making a quick decision to wear his beanie or not, he chose too cause he felt that it was relatively cool outside. His mind was on the map and key that Tori found over some broken floorboards, That's weird, is it worth the risk? is what he was thinking before finally finishing up on small preparations.

Walking through the dim and rather eerie hallway, it felt bizarre that the world could end just like that. The hallway had some broken floorboards, so you needed to walk through them carefully as getting a wound is pretty dangerous. With these thoughts in mind, he finally reached the stairwell and started to make his way down, the steady thuds of his feet echoed silently throughout the stairwell. How do they not hear these echoes? arriving at the end of the stairwell and seeing Victoria standing in the opposite direction, he decided to play a prank and scare her. Crouching low and creeping towards her, "Boo!" he said silently and lightly shook her.

With that out of the way, he was given the first choice, and he decided to go to the Five Points convenience store. He decided so since it wasn't too far away from where they were temporarily staying and, like Tori mentioned, could possibly have leftover supplies and if their lucky, Medical goods. The road to it wasn't terribly plagued with the dead, fortunately but there were still a few just standing around, groaning. They, or more specifically, Tori, being observant as she is, found out that they react to stimuli like humans. Meaning they are attracted to sound and visual stimuli. Hiding behind the entrance doors, he had eyed three zombies that were in the way. Seeing a brick, he picked it up and chucked it with all his strength in the opposite direction. The zombies quickly reacted to the sound and began walking slowly walking to where they heard the noise. Telling Tori to stay low and silent, they both crouched and walked through the area, trying to stay away from the eyes of the zombies.

After a while of doing the same tactic of attracting the zombie with noise and sneaking in the opposite direction, they had finally arrived to their destination. Letting the both of them catch a breath infront of the convenience store, they had earned it. In their shortness of breath he said to to Tori, "We have to make sure the convenience store is safe, it's not terribly big but we need to keep safe." Managing to catch his breath, he had taken the metal bat out of its home and gripping it tightly, he opens the door to the convenience store. He only sees a zombie, against a wall, seemingly dead. Making sure, he goes up slowly and carefully to the body. Once he had reached close enough, he gestured for Tori to hand him her machete for a bit. Being chucked to him, he catches it. Looking at the zombie against the wall, he gripped the Machete and stabbed it carefully on the side of the head.

"Alright we're clear, we can search now, though I do suggest doing it quickly." he whispers towards Tori who was just watching the whole thing. Snapping her out of her trance like state, he lightly shoves her so that she could search. When she began searching, Ben had also started to. The whole place was almost looted but there were some supplies here and there that were on the dirty floor or on the shelves. After around 10 minutes, they bought presented their findings. They both found, three assorted cans, a few bags of chips and some jerky. While it wasn't alot, it did somewhat bolster their food supplies which was always useful. "Alright, not that bad of a haul huh. Should we continue to the next location you mentioned, the pharmaceutical or should we just head back? I'll let you decide this one."

Mitchell ST SW/Northside Grocery---> M.L.K. Jr Dr NW
Atlanta, Georgia
United States

As Deven entered the store he was greeted with a rather powerful aroma of rotting fruit. Directly ahead a short distance was a display that read, “freshly picked fruits from local farms” with an array of what might have once been called fruit, but now were nothing more then molded over inedible clumps. Most of the display had been picked for supplies early on in the disaster but there was still a decent amount of "fruits" left to rot, now the only things scavenging off that display were the flies that swarmed around it. Deven reached up and pulled his scarf up over his mouth in an attempt to alleviate some of the smell. Walking past the display Deven’s eyes scanned over the five check out aisles and the few aisles he could see down from this position. There were no infected down these aisles but neither was there anything much in terms of supplies. He had been expecting this much, it was a fool's hope to think that he might step in and find this whole little market had gone by unnoticed and Deven had no time for fouls hope anymore, no one did. Everyone had to deal in realities nowadays.

Shifting his backpack slightly Deven began making his way down the furthest left aisle, he didn't have the time to dally. He was still presently
in danger of running into that other group of survivors and they certainly wouldn't take too kindly to him scavenging the place they also had their eyes on.

As Deven neared the aisle it was clear that it was used for alcohol, which even though he wasn't the biggest fan of alcohol during these times he didn't really have the luxury of being picky. As he walked down the aisle he scanned each rack as he went, those that weren't broken were missing and by the time he reached the end of the aisle he hadn't found a single bottle.

"Onto the next one." He mumbled to himself.

Giving the aisle one last quick scan he turned and continue down the next aisle which was a freezer aisle for meats and frozen meals. He doubted he would be able to find anything of value here in this section, anything here that wasn't looted early on in this disaster would have gone bad by now and sure enough as he reached the end of the aisle he had found nothing.

Turning he continued on down the next aisle which was another freezer aisle though this one for ice cream. Same for this aisle he doubted he would find anything of value, but one could never be certain. Perhaps a survivor had hidden some supplies in one of these freezers thinking no one would bother to check down this aisle. He knew it was unlikely, but sometimes lady luck had a way of treating the unlucky survivors of this madness to a little treat.

As he walked down the aisle his eyes scanned over all of the different types and flavors of ice cream that had once been so tempting and delicious. He could still remember the taste of his favorite ice cream, he figured there were some people out there that couldn't say the same anymore. But he also figured, that maybe him remembering the taste wasn't that much of a good thing. Maybe him remembering the taste meant that he still held on to the days where on a hot summer day you could go and get yourself a nice icy treat to help fight the heat. Maybe it meant that he missed having that luxury and missed how the world used to be. Maybe if he just let go of how the world used to be then surviving in this crazy fucked up world would just become that much easier. Or maybe it just was as it was, just him being able to remember the taste of his favorite ice cream. As Deven reached the end of the aisle he felt a strange urge to look back, to just spare one more glance. But he didn't, he didn't have the time to dally, not anymore, after all it was just ice cream nothing more, nothing less.

Reaching the end of the aisle Deven was met with a small display for some wine like most of the alcohol aisle before this one was either looted or filled with empty and broken bottles. Turning right he took a few steps toward the next aisle before he stopped as he heard the shuffling of feet and the raspy breath of an undead nearby. The sound came from in front of him down the aisle he was about to pass into. Instinctively he reached up and pulled his machete from its makeshift holder, gripping the blade tightly in his right hand Deven stepped forward peaking his head around the corner. Directly a few feet into the aisle stood an infected which had been hobbling in his direction likely hearing the sound of his footsteps and going to investigate, as he poked his head around the infected began growing agitated it's pace increased and it began moaning and growling. Deven stepped out completely into view and gripped his machete in both hands.

As the infected closed the short distance between them Deven noticed the satchel that hung at it's side there seemed to be some sort of bulge in the bag that caught Deven's eye. But as the infected got closer it began to speed up as it tried to lunge at him, but as soon as it started to Deven hopped to the side dodging the zombies attempt. The undead's momentum proved to be too much for it to overcome and the infected, much to Deven's horror and mistake, plowed directly into the display of wines creating a loud crash as it broke the wooden display and as the many empty and half broken bottles toppled to the floor shattering. It felt as though the whole world had shook with that crash.

As Deven quickly moved forward and drove his machete into the zombie's skull he heard a loud and terrifying scream from somewhere down the street. He knew exactly what that scream had come from and as it subsided Deven's heart plummeted to his stomach. As fast as he could Deven dropped down and dug through the undead's satchel pulling out a single water bottle. As soon as he had the water bottle Deven sprung to his feet and his eyes quickly began darting around the room for an escape route. He immediately saw three infected coming towards him from the right side of the store. Between him and them was a double door that read employees only. Without even giving it a second thought Deven darted for the door.

As he reached the door he pushed against the vertical bars that served as handles to either push or pull the doors open, the door opened with little effort and Deven threw it closed behind him. Immediately he saw a long pipe sitting on the table beside the door grabbing it he shoved he pip through the doors vertical handles where it sat loosely. Knowing the little pipe wouldn't keep the door shut for long Deven hurriedly opened his pack and dropped the water bottle in and put his machete in its makeshift holder as he zipped up the pack his eyes darted around the room looking for anything he could as an escape route. There were two large doors that served as a loading bay for trucks dropping off merchandise but they were both completely shut and would take at least a minute to open and even then would create quite a ruckus in being opened so fast. Then he saw it, to his left just above a shelf was an open window he could escape through there, it might be a bit of a drop to get out but at this point he didn't have much of a choice as he heard the undead begin banging on the door behind him.

Before he could finish zipping up his bag he noticed on the shelf he was about to climb sat three cans of what a quick glance told him was food, below them lay a ripped apart body. Deven figured it must have been a survivor who had collected those three cans before getting attacked. Here he was, he had managed to find some supplies, but now was forced with either risking his life in gathering them or taking the short time the bar in the door provided to get a head start on what he knew was on the other side of the door.

"Fuuuck" Deven growled as he glanced from the cans toward the door and began unzipping his backpack once more.

Rushing to the cans he held his pack with one hand and scooped the cans in with the other, as he did two of the cans fell into his bag but the third just barely missed it falling to the floor in a thud.

"Fuck it!" He said loudly, zipping his bag as fast as he possibly could before putting it back on his back and beginning to climb up the shelves. He could hear behind him the bar holding the door was getting looser and looser and he could hear the screams of the undead on the other side. His heart raced as he climbed the shelves as fast as he could, just as he reached the window and began to climb through his backpack got caught on the upper part of the window and he heard the bar fall to the floor. The door flew open smashing against the wall as it did. Sparring a glance backward into the building Deven saw two undead sprint into the room, they glanced about for a short second before seeing him climbing through the window. As soon as they did they let out terrible screams and began running towards his shelf.

"Fuck fuck fuck!" Deven cried as he began pushing harder and harder through the window.

As Deven forced his way through he noticed just how high up his window was, it was at least 15 feet while the building was at least 20 feet high
though luckily for him directly below him there was a white van parked, if he could get himself through the window and keep holding on the drop would be child's play. But as he turned to look behind him once more he felt his backpack break free from the window and Deven slipped through the window losing his grip and falling down on his back directly on his van. There was a loud thud and the roof of the van bent in as he landed.

Deven lay there for a short second as he gasped staring directly up towards the sky, he hadn't broken anything, but he was certainly disoriented. Just as he began to regain his orientation Deven saw a bloodied hand reach through the window as one of the undead reached it. "Shit!" Deven cried as he forced himself up he dropped off the roof of the van and stumble for a second before breaking off into a run. He had come out of the building in a small clearing between the grocery and more houses. To his left was the main part of the grocery, to the right were some houses which were walled off, but directly ahead of him was Mitchell street. Deven felt the pain of his fall slowly subside as the adrenaline coursed through his system, he definitely hadn't broken anything but he guessed he would have a lovely bruise the next morning if he lived that long.

As Deven reached the street he heard the sound of bodies falling against the roof of a car from behind him, he could only assume one of them had made it through the window though he was completely unwilling to look over his shoulder and check. Once on the street Deven immediately turned right nor pausing for a second to plan, any decisions would have to be made on the fly. He could see down the street some distance away there was a fence for a construction sight with that as his goal Deven sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him. He could hear the undead behind him he had a few seconds of a head start but that didn't matter much, if he kept things as a straight sprint like this it would catch him in no time.

Deven heard the infected yelling behind him as it raced to catch him. He cut through a small parking lot in order to reach the construction sight faster, the infected was only a few second behind and gaining fast he had to put some object in between him and it to slow it down, they were fast runners and climbers and were smarter than the average undead but they still weren't as smart as the living the more complicated the route the harder for them to follow.

As Deven reached the fence he jumped and easily climbed over the wire fence, before resuming running. He had only a few second to take in the area. But that was all he needed to see that the construction site had been used as an evacuation sight early on in the outbreaks. Directly to the north across the construction sight and a field of undead was the Georgia Dome. Scattered throughout the entire site were tents, some standing some collapsed all of them marked with either red cross insignias or military insignias. Ahead of him about 540 feet was a incomplete ramp leading up to some raised streets. In front of the ramp there was some scaffolding that led up to the raised street, as soon as he saw this Deven knew where he had to go. Running as fast as his legs could carry him Deven darted towards the scaffolding dodging in between tents and infected as he did.

As he ran Deven heard the fence rattle as the undead reached to fence and easily scaled it as soon as it was over the undead paused as it tried to find where it’s prey had gone. It took a few short seconds for the undead to spot Deven darting in between some tents a head, as soon as it saw him the undead screamed and took off after him. Deven had gained a small advantage, as long as he could keep breaking the undead's line of sight he could keep himself a little ahead of it, but this section of tents was quickly running out and soon it would just be an open sprint to the scaffolding. If he wasn’t far enough ahead at that point then it would all be over.

With that grim thought in mind Deven pushed himself on this wasn’t how he was going to die, not at the hands of these worthless husks, no he had to live on for all the people he had lost along the way.

Finally Deven broke through the last row of tents, to his luck and also misfortune the area between him and the scaffolding was for the most part void of infected and was relatively flat, it meant he had nothing to worry about avoiding but also meant the undead chasing him had a massive advantage. As Deven ran he heard the excited screeches of the infected behind him, images of him being torn to shreds by the very undead he was running from flashed through his mind, but he ignored every single one of them. He wasn’t going to let that happen, no matter what.

“Come on!” He said through gritted teeth as his feet pounded against the gravel under foot, with every second he could hear the undead getting closer and closer. He could almost imagine it was right behind him it’s raspy broken breath right on the back of his neck, he had to move faster, he had to make it this couldn’t be his end.

The scaffolding quickly came closer and closer as Deven ran on, his heart pounded in his chest as it circulated blood to his legs which felt as though they were being pushed to their limits his body burned for one thing and one thing only survival. It was a primitive and carnal feeling, the powerful need to survive. When this all began he quickly learned just how strong a person's survival instincts could be, before this all started he never had his life in immediate danger and now it was being threatened at this very second and was on the daily, this overpowering drive was something he had grown accustomed to over the 2 and a half months he had been fighting to survive and it burned bright as ever in him at this very moment.

As Deven arrived at the scaffolding he jumped as high as he possible could grabbing on to the wooden board that made up the floor of the scaffolding and quickly pulling himself up. Just as he got his whole body up he heard a loud crash and the whole scaffolding shook as the undead jumped and grabbed on to follow him. It had started to pull itself up onto the scaffolding when it was knocked off with a hard kick to it’s head. The undead collapsed back off the scaffolding landing on the ground below. Screaming in frustration the undead was up onto it’s feet almost as fast as it had fallen and was pulling itself onto the scaffolding as it chased it’s prey which was just a single level above.

From level to level Deven climbed pulling himself up onto each wooden floor as fast as he possibly could. He heard the undead close behind him and a second just now reaching the scaffolding. As he pulled himself up Deven turned and watched as the undead grabbed on to the spot he had just been in. Grabbing his machete he pulled it from his back.

“Leave me alone you undead motherfucker!” He growled before he swung his machete down cutting through the undead's wrist. The undead screamed as it plummeted to the ground below. Without wasting a second Deven turned and began climbing up the next level. As he climbed he heard the undead he had just knocked off scream in anger and resume its climb starting from the beginning.

“They never fucking quit.” He cried to himself as he pulled himself up another level.

Finally he reached to top of the scaffolding as soon as he did he quickly scanned the area, seeing no infected and turned towards the scaffolding he had just ascended and readied his machete in both hands. The second infected was close behind him and as it pulled itself up the last level of the scaffolding and grabbed on to the street Deven stood on he brought his machete directly down on it’s skull. His blade met its mark and dug deep into the undead's head ending it for good. The body collapsed back limply and fell of the scaffolding entirely nearly knocking off the first infected that followed close behind it.

Even with it’s severed hand the undead was still a speedy climber and could put most every person to shame with how fast it could scale an obstacle. But fortunately that story was different if the obstacle had someone standing above it with a machete.

As the undead grabbed onto the street Deven stood on and began pulling itself up Deven wasted no time in swinging his machete down once again cutting into the undead's skull. The zombie went limp and collapsed back onto the scaffolding below as it died for the final time.

As Deven stared down in triumph at the two corpses of the undead he only spared a quick glance around hi ensuring there was no other infected nearby aside from the one grouping at the base of the scaffolding. Once he was certain no more infected were nearby he collapsed back laying down on his back on the asphalt as he caught his breath.

“Fuck runners.” He said breathlessly to himself as he struggled to catch his breath.

For several moments Deven lay there staring up at the cloudy sky above. He had almost forgotten that it was raining. As he lay there the cold rain water felt better then anything he could have imagined. But he couldn't waste anymore time laying there resting, he had recovered enough and would have to recover the rest on the move he had to see where it was he had ended up and find a place to gather his bearings. Pushing himself up off the street Deven slowly got to his feet as soon as he did he glanced around looking for a sign to show where it was he had made it to.

"Huh M.L.K. Jr Dr." He sighed as he read the street sign a little ways ahead.

Slowly his gaze turned away from the street sign and towards the city ahead, as he did he heard a gun shot rip through the air which Deven couldn't help but feel may have been a bad omen. Cities were always trouble their once higher populations now only equated to a higher population of undead. While there was a for the most part better amount of supplies to be looted in cities there was also increased dangers of infected and other survivors. But now he was left with little choice, the road to his right was collapsed and was too far of a drop for him to be able to walk away from, the road to his left led to the Georgia Dome and a whole mess of infected, his last choice was the street straight ahead which led into downtown Atlanta.

Fulton Public Library,
Alanta, Georgia
United States of America

She was right about the noice attracting more infected, assembling several wooden structures would create the necessary noice to gain the attention of the infected on the streets around them. An acceptable situation, the worst outcome was crowded streets amongst the library and infected making their way to the lower floor of the building. Yet with the ways to get to the uppers floor having been barricaded, that would be as far as they could go. Still, an increase of infected would make moving around more troublesome. ''That's great, we can use those once I get the materials we need. I'm not concerned about other survivors seeing the structures though, the only way in for them is through the ground floor. I suppose the infected could be a small issue if they hear the construction noices but they won't be able to get very close to us. I could always set up a distraction or draw them away later.'' The ground floor was littered with corpses, both human and infected. Anyone looking in from the outside would have to take the possibility of them awaking into consideration before entering. Once inside they would find the stairs to the upper floors barricaded, removing the barricade would take considerable effort and time. The only other way in was through the roof, yet with the library being the tallest building amongst those connected to it, there was no way for anyone to actually get up there without a ladder of their own. The chance of any people actually having a ladder with them was so small that John did not take it into consideration and thus thought of the ground floor as the only way in.

The sudden realisation of the ground floor providing a natural obstacle for any Human that passed by, completely changed his approach. First he wanted to clean it out and then barricade the ground floor as well, but in its current state it struck fear and demoralised anyone having to enter. Only Anastasia and he knew that all the infected and bodies down there were already dead. That ment that if he wanted too, he could simply go down there and gather any materials he needed. There wasn't much to gather though, electronic parts and books mostly. The bathroom did have some spare pipes to repair or make a modified weapon like he already carried, collecting them in advance would be benefitial. ''I'm not sure if i'm comfortable eating pigeons, what if they carry the infection as well. They might even carry other diseases. I'm already paranoid up to the point of not drinking from any pre-opened bottles of water I find. I think we should focus on the canned goods and the construction of a garden.'' Neither of them could be sure of the workings of the virus, it was already beyond what anyone had ever encountered before. Taking risks was not something they could afford.

Having their base in the library proved to be a considerable effort, there were lots of books about various subjects. Including maps on the city, detailed ones too. John had grown up here, something that already provided him with an advantage, yet having a map only increased his knowledge. Pinpointing a construction site or store wouldn't be difficult, the most difficult thing would be to transport all the planks and necessary equipment back to the library. He needed a pick-up truck or a car at the very least, a vehicle would also help with gathering the equipment they needed from a gardening store, including the seeds and suitable soil. ''Do you think you could study the maps for me and circle all the closest construction sites or construction stores? You should also circle those that might sell gardening supplies. I would be able to scout them and see which one would provide me with the best odds of success.'' He had gotten to know Anastasia good enough to see when she was upset, memories of the ground floor proved to be a significant issue so he dropped any attempt to talk to her about it, including bringing up that she might be upset, hoping that a different subject would get her mind off of it.

Now that the plans were layed out John opted to switch to normal conversation, he did enjoy talking to her after all. Having been enclosed in the same space with an attractive woman made his mind wander from time to time, though seeing the corpses of infected or running from them usually took care of those thoughts. It wasn't often that he really sat back and just thought about things. ''How's your leg feeling? I've asked before but i'm still wondering if there is anything we can do to speed up your recovery.'' They had little medicine but they did not have much need for it yet, John however did understand that he needed to get more before winter, still it was low priority right now. First the garden then medicine. ''There should be a few books about your condition around here.'' John did know a few things about treating a leg injury, such as the leg massages they preform on people some times. Yet he didn't know whether or not something like that applied to her situation.

The fact that it was raining didn't even cross his mind untill he glanced out of the window by pure chance, rain would be quite fortunate for them. It filled the containers set-up on the roof and thus increased their water supply. It probably wouldn't last long though. ''Anna, we should keep our eyes on the weather, a rainbow may appear.'' He smiled, figuring it would cheer her up to see some beauty out there.

CVS Pharmacy, Forsyth Street SW
Atlanta, Georgia
United States of America

"Yeah, let's go to the Pharmacy" Tori said to Ben before stepping outside. Tori stood outside of the market she and Ben had just raided. Their haul was good enough but what they really need was food with high caloric value, a focus on carbs, and protein. And, unless they were raising cows or sheep in the middle of Atlanta, then finding food with a high protein count would be next to impossible. If the pharmacy Ben had told Tori about had a protein powder of suppliment of some kind they would have to take it. Their assorted canned foods certainly wouldn't provide them enough protein on their own and the pair would need that protein for muscle growth. Tori hardly noticed the rain pattering on the streets as a scream echoed through the city. One would be surprised how far sound travels in the New World, especially sounds such as screams.

Tori slinked into the shadows as runner passed by the intersection of Forsyth and Marietta streets. It had obviously heard the scream and was running to find the source. She knew more would come to investigate the scream, though the walkers would be more likely to just shamble through the street hoping to find the source. The runners would be an issue for the pair for they seem to be smarter and would eventually come through the street looking for the source. Tori motioned for Ben to follow her as the quickly ran across the street to the other side and hugged the wall until they reache the Forsyth and Marietta intersection. Tori looked down Forsyth and saw about five walkers and three runners wandering down the road.

The runners had apparently stopped there and were looking about for the source of the screamer. The walkers were just looking for prey and could have cared less for the scream as it had seem. The pack of infected sat about a hundred or so feet from Tori and Ben's destination which meant they would either have to be very careful or lead them away with a loud enough noise. Tori decided to opt for making a loud noise so she approached and Ben approached the pack just close enough that they were within two hundreed feet of them. She handed Ben a chunk of broken concrete that had been in the street and signled for him to chuck it as hard as possible. The rock glided over the road to slam into the chain link fence on the other side of the road. The pack turned their attention towards the distraction while Tori and Ben quickly sneaked behind them as they slammed the fencing.

The pair succsessfully made it into the pharmacy but they would have to be quick. It wouldn't be long before the runners decided to investigate elsewhere to determine where the rock had come from. But Tori didn't have time to think about the infected so she and Ben quickly spread through out the pharmacy looking for supplies. The whole place seemed to have been looted long before they got there. What was left behind were torn open packets of supplies and some blood trails. It was obvious that most people who had been bitten had first thought to go to a Pharmacy to patch themselves up only to end up infecting others. The only things Tori could find was a pack of gauze wrap and a box of gloves.

While walking through the aisles Tori came across the feminine care aisle which meant the most important thing Tori had been looking for, tampons. Tori had packed some for the trip there but she didn't have enough to last more than a week or so. Plus, if push came to shove they could be used to absorb the blood from a cut. She grabbed two packs of fifty off the shelf which had mostly been ignored by the looters who were more looking for medical supplies not tampons. "Here, catch." Tori called to Ben who was an aisle over as she threw the packs at him. Ben fumbled with the tampons like an awkward teenager before stuffing them in his back pack. Tori stuffed the gloves and gauze wrap in her bag as well and had finished zipping it back up with a loud clattering was heard from the front of the store. Standing in the door way was a runner who had stumbled through the push-to-open doors and was looking about, almost as if he was sniffing for a scent.

Ben had seen the runner as well and ducked down into a crouch and moved into the same aisle as Tori was in. "Shit, I didn't think they would get in here this quickly. The only way we can get out of here is through the back door over there," Tori said as she pointed at a door three aisles down, "which should lead to the alley we passed on our way here." She walked quickly to the door and opened it only for the door to slam into a trash can which had been placed in front of the door. The loud echo of the crash flew through the store and the runner instantly started to haul towards Ben and Tori as the pair ran out the door. The alley way was a dead end if the pair had turned around and at the other end was Forsyth Street where more infected would be waiting for them. "Fucking hell Ben. Best prepare for a battle cause we are going to have to fight if we want to get out of here alive." Tori said as she took the tire iron off of its position on her backpack and slid it through the door handle they had just come through. It would hold long enough that the pair would probably only have to deal with the two runners on the street if they were lucky but luck didn't seem to be on their side as more rain started to pour down on them.

Walmart, The District at Howell Mill, 1801 Howell Mill Rd NW
Atlanta, GA
United States of America

Axel woke up to the beating of the sun’s warmth against his face. With a groan, he sat up and glanced over at his sister. She was already awake and going through her bag. “I saw some walkers outside. We better change location.”
"…You know what...Lets grab some food first." Axel said to his sister. The pair began trying to decide about where to go and when. Then after some discussion, they decided to go to a nearby Walmart store in Howell Mill Rd. After leaving their home, they saw 3 - 4 walkers, busying themselves with a corpse. "We don't want to bother them so let’s be careful." Axel whispered as he gave her the sign to stay quiet. They both walked carefully as they passed the group of walkers, ducking behind cars. After the pair escaped, they walked for about a mile and luckily for them there did not seem to be any runners. They reached what seemed to be a safer place near the senior citizen services area in Commerce Dr NW. The pair was overjoyed that they finally found a place without any walkers or so what they seemed to think.

Climbing back up the metal ladder, Brian blocked up the door and walked back over to his humble home. Packing all the shit he thought he'd find useful into his sleeping bag, away from sight. Taking a swig from his bottle and a bite from another bar, he saw that his shoe lace had escaped its knot on his right foot. Crouching down he tied the lace again, tightening the other and wiping off the dust and grime from the rim of his sweats.

Standing once again, Brian was frozen for a moment before he ducked down again, pushing his back against a stone pillar. A zombie was only a few feet away from him, its flesh dripped back to him, deep growls and scratching nasal sniffs resonating from its body. Turning his head he peeked around, and saw that it was straying right.

Quickly he grabbed his pistol from his hip and span round, aiming.

Pulling the...

Wait.

Where was it? It was right there!

SLAM.

Right into his back, he toppled over and the zombie fell on top of him, its momentum pushing it across the floor. Both of them rose onto there feet once more. Brian raised his pistols, the zombie bared its teeth. Charging forward, its arms flayed and legs pumped with the need to feed, the zombie dove at Brian who rolled out of the way, closely missing the stone pillar and landing on his sleeping bag with a soft crunch.

"Shit my stuff! You're going to pay for that. I accept heads."

Brian took his spear from the floor and gripped it tightly in both arms, waiting for it to get closer again, as it did he charged forward himself and leapt off of his right foot, thrusting the blade up - it broke through into its jaw and he landed, and rolled. Suddenly the air became colder as it rushed past him, and his arms reached for grip as he fell, only just finding the edge of the building, he hung there above the precarious scaffolding.

Managing to get an elbow up and onto safety, he saw the zombie walking towards him slowly, the blade going through the bottom of its jaw and into its mouth, the wooden pole scraping along the floor in front of him. He couldn't drop it was suicide, so he waited until it got closer so that he could grip it and pull it down, hopefully then he could climb up.

It stood over him, glaring down into his eyes and dropped to its knees, the pole hanging over the ledge as Brian did. It opened its mouth and saliva dripped from its lips, it bit out at his hand. Pulling back his hand he grabbed the pole and pushed with all the power he could, the blade broke through into the brain and the zombie fell limply down, its head over the edge. Finding his way up awkwardly, he kicked the body from the roof and watched as it fell slowly to the ground far below, smashing a blue car as it landed hard on its roof.

Fulton Public Library,
Atlanta, Georgia
United States of America

Anastasia was always one to listen while another spoke before putting in any of her own thoughts into word, though as the professor spoke she nodded quietly in agreement of certain things and waited patiently. In some cases she would take notes to remember what the other would have said, though with a memory like hers it was just to be polite to her teachers at school; she didn’t do it for John because a waste of paper is never a good thing anymore. Her eyes followed his and his lips, his hands as he spoke and made gestures that seemed to go along with what he was saying and most of it was understandable. Being on one of the higher floors of the building she could understand where he was coming from; with the dead littering the first floor other survivors could see them as being penned in and not able to really leave – not that she wanted to, her limp would just slow John down. If he ever chose to leave the library, he may have to leave her behind depending on her state of health at the time. “If it comes to that I want you to be careful, I don’t know how much help I can really be.” Anastasia responded to his saying he could lead away the possible horde of zombies that could be attracted to the noise of making the planters they would need to build on the roof top. “We might need a shelter as well, and something to keep the birds from eating the seeds all the time. Too much rain could wash away the seeds or drown the plants themselves.”

He’d spoken against the bird, seeing as they may be carriers of other diseases as well as this infection that killed people at random and turned them into something from those horror movies that she used to watch with her brothers before all of the moving and leaving them behind in Italy. She hadn’t thought much of it honestly, when she made her suggestion, but it made her curious to know if it did affect the animals the same way it did humans or if they were mere carriers of it. She may be able to identify it if she had to chance to study something and look for abnormalities inside of the animals’ genetic coding or bloodstream; if it was possible to identify it she could find it in the human equivalent and find a way against it though she wouldn’t have the resources for any of it for now. “After we get the planters working and find another canned food to last us a while, I want to see if I can find what it is that causes this. If I know what it looks like then we can see if it’s in the animals or not. See how it responds to heat and cold. I haven’t seen an animal revive yet but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen, not until we know for sure what the limits are.” It was a habit of hers to speak quickly and when she did there was a slight accent to the way she spoke, making her sound excited even though there was not that tell-tale sparkle in her eyes this time when speaking of furthering her knowledge. This time her expression was grim and dissatisfied with her own knowledge of what it was that plagued them. It was a horrible feeling for her, as someone who tended to know anything about everything that the common person would ever think to ask her about; even the most obscure and strange topics.

He’d spoken of her learning again though, this time of the layout of the city she had only really lived in for two years and yet never dared to adventure it – the last time she had, her parents had died. Layouts were always something she had loved, she could point out the location of some of the best places to visit throughout the world and yet, the place that had meant to be her home was currently null and void in her own memory. “Of course I could. I would say it would be faster for me to just learn the route and go with you, but walking with you would be difficult for such long ways and I’m better use here where I can take care of everything.” The young woman stood for a moment, flattening the skirt of her dress and testing her leg with a little bit of pressure before walking around a little bit. She was getting stiff and thinking about it had made her need to stand and stretch for a minute. Thinking as well was something that promoted her to begin pacing in that odd, lopsided fashion that was her way of walking.[color=mediumcioletred] “I’ll need books of growing, planting, and possible repair; maps of the city and closer areas. . .”[/color] Anastasia was muttering to herself as she thought and paced, shuffling through her memories to see where she had seen the things she could need. Of course, she’d so need to move to one of the tables.

Coming back to John she sat down beside him again on the bench seat, just far enough away that they weren’t touching but not so far as to spear to be avoiding the possible contact that was likely to happen with the amount the girl fidgets when she thinks. “I think I know where everything I’ll need is. Maps are on the third floor in the world section, fourth shelf I think – I haven’t really looked. There are pens and highlighters in the second drawer on the left in the desk of the main office on this floor and I can find everything else after you go.” Anastasia rambled off the locations she remembered to him, forgetting that he might not remember that as clearly as she would and a thought suddenly occurred to her. She looked up at him, surprised to have not thought of the small detail before, though the entire thing may depend on it for efficiency and speed. “How are we going to get it all here without drawing it all out?”

He mentioned her leg and the rain after she’d spoken and done her pacing and her gaze dropped to where he leg stuck out awkwardly from where she sat and lifted quietly to the rain outside of the window. “I guess I can do the washing tomorrow.” The girl said with a small smile and a quiet laugh, these rare things only ever really coming out in odd moments and times when she was doing what she did best with something familiar and comforting around her. The nights had become dark for the first time in possibly hundreds of years in the last two months, each fire easy to spot if one looked for them though she didn’t spend much time doing it other than to record the movements of other groups of survivors. “We could break it again?” It was dry and humorless when she said it, though as she turned she lifted it so that her foot rested on the bench between them. Her dress slid off her knee and rested on at the bottom of her leg while she leaned forward to gesture for his hand. “It shifted when the. . when that zombie grabbed me and didn’t set right again afterward. So it’s healed crooked. The only thing I can do really is eat enough protein and work it to regain the muscle mass I lost.”
@Sven the Silent