Sam~

Sam felt his muscles expand and contract. He dropped his brother the dead hurtling behind him, he pulled out his gun. Aimed it at his brother,"God bless you, I love you" and shot. He felt the tears in his eyes. He aimed the small snub gun at his head. But he just couldn't shoot. With the dead drawing closer he ran. Looking behind to see monsters, nightmares....Walkers eating Ben. He couldn't remember anything else just that he ran and at one point he stopped and looked at a sign that said 'Wilmington,Delaware' he did what he New best, and ran, luckily he ran around the dead he could see.

He heard noises in and out and thought too many people but instead of finding a building to hide out he was running through the streets like a mad man.

In a heat-of-the-moment thing, Todd had followed the blonde woman to the apartment, drawing his BC-41 as a precaution. He noted the Australian woman had done the same. He'd managed to keep up with her as she ran into the apartment building, but the stairs? Oh god no, not the stairs. He trodded up them, breathless, holding onto the walls for dear life. He'd expected some sympathy when he got there, but all he got was a woman glaring at the lady. Hard. Worst thing about it? He was the one who felt awkward. And damn, did he hate that feeling.

"Yeah... nice to... see you too..." He panted. "Can you just, y'know... stop glaring?"

Normally Todd wouldn't use that as a first greeting, but Glare-A-Tron 3000 was beginning to really piss him off. The stage of progression with awkwardness was this: awkward > pissed > fucking crazy > somebody kill me. And that didn't even hit the top of the iceberg. But, either way, there he was - breathless on a set of stairs with someone glaring needles at the person next to him (and possibly him, too), just waiting for an answer.

John sighed as he looked over at the building, lowering his rifle once he felt comfortable. It was still pointing in the man's general direction but more towards the asphalt now. "Yeah... and put your hands down, your not being arrested or nothing." He chuckled lightly. "There shouldn't be anyone alive in Wilmington though. I would know... He looked at the building and scanned over it. It definitely had seen better days. It missed the signage on the building and was boarded up as if hurricane Sandy was about to strike. "Hey, get on comms and let these idiots know we're here. I don't plan to stay out on this fucking street any longer than need be. I already did THAT once." His eyes glanced back over to the car towards Anna, gesturing for her to join the two of them.

(Do not have time to edit tonight, I can see what is possible after work)

Desmond Williams

Finally at ease after the surprise close-quarters fight, Desmond holstered his pistol and breathed an easy sigh of relief. However, mid-way through, he began to tune into the formerly inaudible conversation one story above. Switching his gaze back and forth between the staircase up and his partner, he listened as a female voice confronted one of the others in the room:
Who the fuck are you?
Just like that, Desmond's period of relief was over. Hostility was a tricky thing now. Zombies, you could always count on them to rip your neck out at any opportunity. It made them predictable, easy even, in small numbers. But people? People were hard.. Any survivor with an attitude could be cautious or a killer. Hell, even the nice ones were out for blood sometimes. Desmond knew that, and it's why he stayed away. Until he found the lady in the thick jacket and impenetrable sunglasses, that is. Still, he felt lucky today. Like maybe, these ones would be different. And if not, he knew where his gun was.
"Let's check it out," he gave a sideways nod in the direction of the staircase, and then led the way.

The scene upstairs was about as bloody as the ground floor. Desmond felt as if he was walking into a warzone; doubly so at the sound of more argument and debate within one of the first rooms on their right. Moving cautiously, and with the feeling of going into something potentially lethal utterly blind, he made a few steps toward the open door until the occupants could be seen clearly. He kept his hands well away from his pistol, palms open.
"It sounds like we're all strangers to each other," he offered to the group, looking around, from face to face. There was a younger guy in a hat with a gun, along with another man -- bigger, and rather intimidating, with a face that seemed just a bit too familiar. Closer to the door, he saw a beautiful girl with blonde hair under a baseball cap standing alongside a young boy; the kid couldn't have been older than thirteen or so, and Desmond couldn't tell if he was more unsettled by the fact that he looked a bit sick, with a bit of a yellow hue to the face, or by the piercing intelligence in his eyes. Finally, there was a brunette woman in jeans and a tank top, with a look that held a thousand words and shared none. Desmond guessed that she might have been the one yelling earlier, but he couldn't be sure.
"Look, I'm not saying we should all get in a circle and start singing kumbaya, because that'd probably only end with drawn weapons, more yelling, and more walkers. Now I don't know about you, but I think that whole fight probably would have been a tad easier if all of us had been working together. I mean, I know we're strangers, but hell: her and I just met a few minutes ago ourselves," He added, gesturing toward his new partner.
"If that many zombies got in so soon after the gunshots, who knows how many are on their way now. Let's at least work together to get somewhere safe. Then, we can go our own ways, or whatever. But we all have guns, and seven pairs of eyes are better than one."

Douglas Knowles

It took about twenty minutes, but the radio finally began to show the first real signs of success. Doug peered out the window, and saw three tired-looking survivors standing outside. One was holding his "flag", just as he had said. Omar came to the window beside Doug.
"The one with the flag must be Chase," he noted, remembering the guy's instructions over the radio.
"And the other one, the soldier," Doug replied. "That could be that John fellow. Looks like they all made it here okay."
For a moment, the office was silent. The four were both excited and terrified; the newcomers could be just folks looking for a safe place, or they could be killers. There was just no way to tell, other than to take the chance on them and open their doors.
"Ron, would you mind getting on the roof with your rifle and checking around for stray walkers? It'd be good to have you up there watching our backs and theirs while we go out and speak to them," Doug asked his partner, and the other man nodded, though Doug had a suspicion that he would be making sure of a different thing entirely.
"Yeah, I'll make sure nobody catches us by surprise down there," he said, and left for the roof. Doug turned to Omar.
"Let's go meet the new neighbors."

The pair walked outside, and could feel the warmth of late summer even in the shadow of the office building. The two approached the newcomers unarmed; Doug had his pistol holstered on his belt alongside his other utilities, of course, but kept his hands well away from the gun. Omar matched his step with the officer's, studying the faces of the guys and girl ahead of them. They stopped about fifteen feet away. Up above, Ron had made it to the roof and began scanning around the street with his rifle.
"Welcome," Doug said to the trio with a genuine smile on his face. "Don't worry about my partner up on the roof, he's making sure no walkers get the drop on us while we're out here and exposed." He adjusted his shirt collar, and looked each of the strangers in the eye before continuing.
"Thanks for making the journey, I know it was probably pretty tough. Not everywhere is as safe as our little safe haven, I understand. I'm Douglas Knowles, Wilmington PD and the guy you've been speaking with on the radio. This here's Omar Tulley."
"Pleasure," Omar offered, but felt no need to say any more. He didn't know them, not yet, and was still not sure as to how he should feel about them.
"Why don't we go inside and continue this conversation?" Doug motioned back toward the office, away from the danger of the open street.

---

"I know how to drink, 'da'!" Ana spat, mockingly imitating the 'da' that man added which she assumed to be a slight from her accent, in response the man's jab, regardless of whether he meant to be friendly or not. Ana might have pressed the man further but when she saw the radio being picked up in the corner of her eye, it iced her temper over a bit. The man, Captain Johnathan Fredrick Krueger, sounded as if he was confident with his callback on the radio, which assured Ana to follow his later commands.

Safely turning the car around, the two of them were now headed in the presumably right direction according to John, as the man had now formally introduced himself. Of course curiosity would demand that Ana introduce herself in response, but a more selfish desire kindled in Ana's mind. A protector had introduced himself, and Ana hoped she could return to blissfully coasting this apocalypse under another person's protection.

Ana bowed her head forward, not taking her eyes off the road in a sort of accepting gesture before introducing herself. "I am Anastasia Abramova, but that is a mouthful, yes? You can call me Ana if you want." Ana noticeably turned up the pep and charm in voice, finally shaping her expression to a bit of a flirtatious smile as she slowly began coming to the conclusion that a military captain was likely heaps better at survival than a NYPD police officer. Her charm was topped off with a very subtle chuckle and a bit of sympathy for John's nose. "Oooh yea... Sorry about that. She hummed sincerely in reply.

Even though Ana was driving, she found her attention and gaze wandering to her passenger, John, as they cruised along the road. Her eyes studying and evaluating the man. He was armed much better than Carl, boasting military hardware and probably proper training, but Ana wouldn't be able to tell otherwise. As for the man himself, he was built much better compared to Carl, who would get winded well before Ana. It was an indecent thought, but Ana judged that John was bound to be better for her in the long run.

There was silence for a moment before John finally spoke up again. This time he was telling a brief tale about what he had gone through. Ana sat in silence and nodded grimly, but she didn't understand. She was locked in her place while someone else went out and scavenged for supplies. By the time she was out and moving, the living fighting the dead had stopped, with the dead the clear winners.

--

Finally reaching the visual range to see the building on Eighth Street in Wilmington, Ana pulled the car to a halt as her partner sprung into a quick reflex for some reason. Ana followed the man's gaze and eventually found a lone man in the street ahead. Before Ana could say anything, John was out the door and closing on the man fast. Ana felt stuck in her seat and only watched the beginning of their exchange. Even though they had really just met, Ana was quietly routing for her acquaintance as if they had been lifelong friends, and she felt relieved that the man submitted with his hands raised.

Shockingly, Ana wasn't as delighted as she thought she would be to see a third person. While she seemed to embrace John because she had no one else, with this new guy she was apprehensive and cautious. But she wasn't precisely sure why that was the case. Regardless, she was glad someone else was handling the responsibility of judging a person for her.

John shot a glance backwards and Ana interpreted that as her signal to join them. She opened the cruiser door and stepped out, crouching down to finally pick up her sidearm from the floor of the car. On her way back up, she reached over and pulled the keys out of the ignition and closed the door, locking the doors remotely, and moved over to join John and the other man.

Ana had joined just in time to mutter a quiet greeting to the stranger before noticing that the ones on the radio came out of their building. Ana watched them approach, her weapon resting safely in her grip as she stood behind John and the other man. Ana's worries were naively put to ease as she saw that they approached with their weapons holstered and friendly, approachable smiles plastered on their face. As the man introduced themselves, Ana couldn't help but worriedly glance up to the sniper up on the roof, and she nervously shuffled a bit closer behind John. She hadn't seen so many people in such awhile. She wasn't sure how to take all of it in yet.

Ana looked nervously on at Omar and Douglas before leaning around John, just enough to be seen by the two, and spattering out her own name. "A-Ana." She looked around nervously and nodded earnestly at the two men's response to heading inside. "Please, lets."

@Pirouette@FortunesFaded@Exit
-EARLIER-

"Anastasia..." John grinned and looked over at her. "Like Disney's Anastasia, just less cartoony and more physical." Instinctively rubbing his nose. "Don't worry about it. I've been butted by a rifle before. Hurts a hellov a lot more." The grin shifted to a smirk before he looked away.

-PRESENT-

John scanned the building again and began to mumble slowly raising his gun. "Swear to god this better not be some kind a fucking setup. Too early for that kind of shit." It wasn't a moment after he had said that did the door open and his rifle swung to the opening before dropping, barrel now facing the ground in front of him but keeping it in line of sight with the occupants stepping outside, one mentioning that the man on the roof was their over watch. He took in their looks and features, analyzing who he would now have to live with, work with and survive with. He listened to what the man, who had introduced himself as Doug, talked about, smirking at Desmond's kumbaya joke before it faded back into his usual gaze. He had also taken notice to Anna, who had now placed herself against his back. His assumption was that it was for comfort and a sense of safety. Things people did when they were scared. He turned his head back towards her and muttered low enough for her just to hear. "You're safe with me no worries." Probably the most reassuring thing he had said to her the entire time he knew her which was no more than maybe an hour or two.

"Yeah sure..." With a quick response to heading inside he began walking but at a slower pace than the rest of them. As soon as the group was inside he turned to face her, lowering himself so that he could look her in the eyes. His gaze softened. "I know we had a rocky start but we're all in this shithole together and with that being said I'm going to help you out as much as possible. I'm gonna get you to a state of self where if something happens to me or this ragtag of a group, I know you'll be able to defend yourself and survive without much help." He gave a light smirk before turning back to the door and stepping through....

Adventure time, come on grab your frien-

"There isn't but shit on this cable. One fifty a month and two hundred channels... Still nothing."

Deep blue eyes gazed out a large ornate window. Life was boring here, even the jet ski and telling Rex off at the bar last night did nothing to ease the pain of being stagnant. Being stale.

"Guess I'll see what Roger is up to. Sexy ass fireman."

-Ring...

-Ring...

-Ring...

Hey, how are you doing? Ha! Gotcha. Leave a message.

A heavy sigh followed by a heavy, depressing moan echoed through the two story mansion. Right as she sat down, her phone rang. Finally someone to talk to. Finally...

The voice was clear as day, "Get out!". She winced and pushed the phone from her ear. The voice shouted again and again. She tried to reply, "Roger!" But then without warning, the phone clicked. Was this a prank? She thought maybe he was outside, a surprise perhaps.

It didn't take long for Lisa to get dressed and ready. Her best heels, her nicest perfume. She was truly magnificent.

As her door opened, that magnificence faded quickly. Smoke billowed from a building far off and sirens were seemingly all around.

"Terrorists!?" Lisa screamed as she turned towards the door. Before she got far though, the sound of heavy machinery caught her ears and when it appeared she was in awe.

Soldiers rushed up her drive way followed by a tank and two humvee's. "Ma'am, head to third street, we are evacuating from there every twenty minutes." Her mouth was suddenly dry and a nervous sweat rolled down her cheek.

"What?" She yelled but this was drowned out by the deafening and bone chilling roar of fighter jets buzzing over head. She was so confused at this point.

"Ma'am, you have to go, NOW!."

She didn't think twice and started walking away from the soldiers. "Here they come!" She heard a soldier say and on cue, the earth shook as the tank sent a shell into the distance.

This was encouragement enough and as a soldier turned to yell again, all he saw was a pair of heels and rustling brush.

Lisa got all of her things together and started towards the back door. In an instant, a huge crash stole her attention and she cowered as her windows all shattered. Outside huge fireballs rose into the sky and above, helicopters were circling.

Was this a dream?

No.

-Hours later-

A gruff voice came over an intercom, "alright, everyone from the blue tent back, board the first school bus. All the rest will wait for the air evac."

Lisa frowned, having to ride a damned bus while others took to the sky. Luck was on her side though as they drove away a kid pointed out the window, "look!" He said, watching as the helicopter came crashing to the ground.

People were panicking at this point. Children clinging to their parents and couples clinging to each other, all a prelude to new world order.

-Days... Or weeks? Later-

Where did everyone go.. How did she end up in a simple group of ten. And only one was a soldier, well a retired gulf war veteran. A honorable man but far over his head. The dead made sure of that as they came through the brush and from the open doors of evacuated homes.

He fired shot after shot. Red puffs of blood shot out with every impact but nothing worked, not a damn thing it seemed.

As all seemed lost, shots rang out and two men with axes rushed from the tree line, smashing the heads of the walking horrors.

It was still chaos. The occasional exchange of gunfire in the distance and screams during the night. What the hell did Lisa do to deserve this.

-A few weeks? maybe-

All sense of time had passed, a simple watch let her know what time it was at the very least.

It felt like every time a new hour struck, another of her group parishes. First the teacher and her two boys, then that asshole grocery store clerk.

They found a simpleton sharpshooter though, a small bit of good news at least.

It all faded, they all died until two people remained, Lisa and Billy.

And there was a long way to go.

-present day, Wilmington.-

Billy and Lisa found themselves near a occupied building. Lisa had encountered survivors once before whom had attempted to violate her. With the intervention of Billy, her body was spared the shame. This situation called for caution once more.

Lisa slowly and stealthily walked towards a window and dropped to her knees, raising her binoculars. "Billy, look through here."

Unlike Lisa, Billy hefted his mighty rifle and casually walked to the window, forcing Lisa to sigh. "Billy, you gotta be careful." She said softly. "look out there, what do you see?"

Billy smiled, "Hey. Hey. Hey."

Lisa gave a puzzled look, "What?"

Billy giggled a few more times before deepening his voice and saying with a raspy tone, "I'm fat Albert!"

Lisa never pinched the bridge of her nose this hard in her life. She had learned though that to give him any feed back might encourage more of this behavior. Instead she took a deep breath and gently spoke, "Billy, look towards that building. What do you see?"

He frowned in disappointment regarding her not giving his comment attention but quickly got over it and gazed into his scoped rifle. "people, not dead people." He whispered.

"Very good Billy, what about across the block near that dumpster."

"dead people, alot." He said plainly. Lisa turned her binoculars to the dumpster. Her binoculars were nowhere near as powerful as Billy's scope but it was obvious that this group of walkers must've heard the events in the apartment.

"Billy, make them sleep."

Without a pause, Billy pulled the trigger. The shot from the high powered rifle rang out and anyone nearby would know they were there now. Lisa panicked, "Billy!! Where is the gray tube for the end of your gun? The one that makes it quiet?"

Billy gave a confused look but then turned to his gun. Lisa watched as a couple peeled off towards their position. "Ok Billy. Get those ones."

He pulled the trigger, detonating a walkers head into a hundred pieces. The gore draped over the second walker right before its head exploded too. Billy had a smile ear to ear. "pop!" He said gleefully.

"Billy, serious time."

He quickly pursed his lips and lowered down. "Lisa."

Lisa rose her index finger towards Billy as he tugged at her shirt. "hold on." She whispered, checking to see if any undead had turned to hunt them.

"Lisa." He said again with a hint of sadness.

She turned towards him, "Hold on Bill-"

"Lisa I'm hungry."

She rolled her eyes and dropped down, satisfied the walkers weren't on to them. "ok Billy, spaghetti o's or chicken soup."

Well it was certainly a cluster fuck going on upstairs. The man who was comforting the woman, who seemingly lost her husband, and been rejected by said woman. He didn't seem to take it well, but it came to his attention that she knew him as much as she knew Cole. Damn, hitting on a widow during the apocalypse. Standards sure seemed to be out the window, and desperation was at an all time high these days. Not that she wasn't a pretty girl, just that... Well, you don't really try to get with a girl as soon as her husband turns into a walker. Seems a little... Morally wrong. But hell, everything's gone to shit anyways, nothing was a surprise to him.

The woman thanked Cole, although she didn't seem too happy about it, confirming his suspicion that he was her husband. Cole just kind of nodded in acknowledgement, knowing nothing he could say would compensate. He had to save her, simple as that, and he was sure she recognized that as well. Looks like the military guy was losing some brownie points on that. Maybe if he was a bit more mentally stable... Unless she was into guys like that. After the orders were barked at him, something about getting supplies and heading toward some safe bunker. He wasn't aware of any safe bunker til now, nor did he agree to join this group, but before he could say anything she shut the door on him. It seemed like he was going along for the ride, and he did need gas. 5 gallons would fill his tank, and he could keep it to store fuel in. Besides, a safe bunker sounded nice right about now. Back in Philadelphia was a train wreck from the start, he was just lucky to get out.

It got a little awkward standing there with the guy he had checked into the door frame just a few minutes ago, and judging by how it was a little bent out of shape now, it looked like he hit it hard. Cole turned around to head toward going downstairs when a young woman ran head first into him. She was a pretty little blonde girl, and as she ran into his chest she bounced back and collapsed on her butt at the front of the stairs. She wasn't part of the two people downstairs... Where did they all keep coming from?

"Hey, sorry about that. Wasn't really expecting somebody to come up here in such a hurry." Cole said as he gently grabbed her hand and pulled her up to her feet effortlessly. It seemed like a little 12 year old boy had been behind her, but they looked nothing alike. Yellow skin, school boy hair cut, chubby cheeks. Didn't even look American, no wonder he seemed somewhat intelligent. Although he didn't get to say much to the boy, as the woman who owned the apartment came out of the door.

Cole dropped the blonde's hand, noticing he might have held it a bit too long as the medical nurse seemed a bit hostile in asking who the fuck the blonde chick was. Hell, Cole didn't know, but he wasn't making a big deal out of it. Although it was a little overwhelming with all the people. Speak about people, two more came bumbling up the steps. Some guy in a suit looking thing, and some woman with aviators. He didn't listen to much as they threw in their two cents about teamwork, togetherness, some African song. What Cole noticed was that for a man of his size, fitting in the small space with 6 other people was just a little uncomfortable. He wasn't overly huge like a line backer, but dear lord he needed some space. All he knew was that there was gasoline, supplies, and they were heading to 8th street.

"All of you, here, talking at once. Bitching, complaining, barking orders. Yeah, that's nice. I don't know about you guys, but I don't wanna stand around here and talk all day. Honestly, I'm my own person, we all are. So, you know, quit the whole leader bossy blah blah bullshit. I don't know about you guys, but I'm gonna fill my bike, get some stuff, and I'm out of here in the next ten minutes. If y'all wanna stick around and argue and sing some African shit til the walkers eat you, be my guest.". And with that Cole made his way down the steps, slipping off his Northface jacket to reveal the sleeveless black underarmour he had underneath it.

Walking out in the fresh air was a relief, for the simple fact of there was quite a few dead bodies piled up in that apartment and he was sure it wasn't healthy to stick around those. He slipped the jacket into his bag and decided to sit down on his bike for a moment. He needed a moment to catch his breath and relax, take in what all was happening. It was a nice breather. That and he realized he didn't have keys to get the gas, so, he kind of had to wait for that. And he couldn't fit much else in his bag supplies wise. Now we play the waiting game.

@McHaggis@FortunesFaded@Remipa Awesome@Wade Wilson@Symphoni@CandiBarr

The bump knocked the wind out of her, and Laura took a good look at the man she had knocked into, noticing that he was actually rather handsome and well-built, just the way she liked it. She took his hand, and got to her feet as he pulled her up effortlessly. "It's okay, I'm sorry as well. That was kinda reckless thing to do." All caught up in the moment, she didn't realised that she was still holding the guy's hand until he let it go when the previously-sobbing woman came towards her with fury written on her face.

Laura was now faced with the brunette who had gone from sobbing to ultimate bitch mode faster than a blink of an eye. She demanded to know who she was, albeit in a rather vulgar way, and Laura was left to think for herself, was this what passed for greetings nowadays? Or was it simply this woman turning insane? Just a minute ago, she was on the floor weeping as she craddled the now-dead walker's head, now she was taking it out on her. She answered. "Well, hi to you too lady. I'm Laura. I'm new to the area. Came because of the gun shots and decide to explore and see what I could find. Found walkers, and a bunch of people, you guys."

Chancing a glance around, she saw that the kid had decided to follow her up after all, hiding back her backpack. Mouthing the words She's crazy. to him, she turned back to face the front. The man she had bumped into helped her up, offering his hand and apology at the same time.

Their little party got bigger as two other people appeared in the apartment area. A man in a suit and another woman, this one dressed in a jacket and aviators. The man started talking about getting into a circle and singing Kumbaya. She had never heard the song before, but she guessed that it was an african song about peace or something. The well-built guy who she bumped into then said he was heading down to fill his bike and do other stuff. As he trudged down the stairs, Laura turned around to follow. "Wait for me! I'll help you!"

Hunter Monroe

The Apartment

Hunter was not a people person, one by one more people had come into the area. Truth be told he was never a people person. Before the out break he would be the person who stayed home instead of going to parties, now, he was just scared of them. He had seen what they were able to do, he had seen what he was able to do. He knew that others were just as likely to cross that line, and maybe it wont be as hard as it was for him.

Hunter stood up and grabbed his things, he wasn't planning on leaving the apartment, at least not far, but he didn't like being around so many people in such a small space. He could hear Sarah still pissed off inside, he didn't blame her though. Hunter eventually found a spot to sit outside to just relax and clear his head. The flashbacks haven't been this bad before, it seemed like he was actually their that time. He was scared again, he hated being scared. Scared didn't get him anywhere other then dead. He had to get over the fear before the fear took him. He was going to go back into that building and he was going to confront those people in their, he was going to get over his fear. Or he could stay outside and figure out why his sawed-off jammed. The sawed-off sounded more fun to Hunter.

Hunter eventually took the double barrel apart attempting to clean out the internal components with his basic cleaning kit. It wasn't meant for shotguns but it would work for the grim that had built up in the trigger system, which had caused the delayed shot earlier. He didn't need his shotgun jamming like it did. Mainly because he relied on it for something that could still shoot once he ran out of ammo. He knew how to reload shotgun shells, twelve gauge was common, and he could use every length of the shell in the double barrel as well. And over all, wasn't the worst of weapons. Short on effective range, but it will stop anything in front of him dead in its track. Though range had already been a problem.

He knew sooner or later something was going to have to give, he just hoped what ever gave was in his control. He decided he was going to get to this safe zone, he was going to get Sarah their too, the new people as well. Though he trusted Sarah, she had the chance to kill him, a few times, and he was still breathing. He wasn't sure on Cole, He knew who Cole was though, and he knew he was strong. Hunter figured if things got bad that would be useful, though he would never forgive him for the last game he played against the Bills.

Maxwell was coming form the road of the many buildings ahead of him,He didn't like being in the open he felt naked being in the empty streets and would rather be cooped up some place.Making his way up the street and towards another building sneaking slowly like he was one of those CIA spies in the news reports and movies he use to watch before the outbreak.

Maxwell the salaryman form Ohio skulking from the building to a tall building that would have been a clothing store,Max looked around the corner being crouched down beside the entrance seeing a few zombies ahead of him taking aim with his pistol.A few silent shots were heard in the air taking out the few zombies that were in his way.

With the zombies taken down Maxwell was given the chance to move forward,He quickly jogged towards a near by car making his way to a suppressant safe point for the near by survivors.

Hunter Monroe

The Apartment

Hunter looked up from cleaning his shotgun to see Sarah. He wasn't really sure how to respond, he never really knew how to work with people. Though even behind those sunglasses he could she wasn't mad anymore, well. Not as much at least. Though mad wasn't the word was it, it was closer to sad then anything else, sad with a touch of "Get the fuck away from me".

Hunter reassembled his shotgun and put it back into his back with the handle sticking out. "I am sorry about your friend. I can tell he was close to you. It's never easy losing someone close to you, especially as close as you two seemed." Hunter was pretty sure he saw a ring at one point. He thought it would seem strange if he started looking now so he assumed it was a bad time to start. But he knew they were definitely close, his best guess is pretty close to marriage as well. "I'm not saying what you went through is what everyone went through, but you are not alone in this. I don't know about the others, but if you ever need anything let me know okay? I promise I can do more then waste a ton of ammunition into drywall." Hunter did a small laugh, he wasn't really sure what to do other then that. He just wanted her to feel better about the situation.

Hunter looked at his bag with the shotgun handle sticking out of it. "In basic, they teach us to clean our weapons daily to prevent them from jamming, especially if we are in a combat zone. Guess I fucked that one up pretty bad." He sat with his thoughts for a moment. "We do need to get to that safe zone though, every day we are out here is another day we are likely to get killed. Ammo is becoming harder to get, even harder to reload casings as well to be honest, and there are a lot of people that will kill for what ever you might have. I mean, my rifle alone was the reason that me and my partner were attacked well trying to get through the city." He looked at his rifle for a moment. "Plus, things break, once those things break, it gets a lot harder to survive. That rifle I have, it's actually two rifles that I took the best parts from each over the course of a few weeks to keep functioning. Several parts in it are already busted, which sucks to be honest." He laughed at the thought of some things he heard in basic. "I remember Jim telling me, that these rifles were some of the best assault rifles in the world, with one big down side. They are very high maintenance. But as long as you have a way to keep replacing the parts and keep cleaning the ones that work, you'll be fine. Then all this shit happens." Hunter was basically just trying to keep his mind off his deep thoughts, many thoughts either scared him or he was worried they may scare Sarah. He didn't want to risk it either way. "He must have been a pretty awesome guy to have been with someone like you. I wish I had gotten the chance to meet him before all this happened."