Eastern Pennsylvania. May 4th, 2074. 11:27 PM



It wasn't much, but it was shelter. A small safehouse, along a back-road near a rural area. It was fairly warm out most of the time, around the 50's, so taking lookout on the roof wasn't as much of a hassle. Travelers would come by every once in a while. Sometimes they would stay, others would just be passing by, even trading with the residents. With the treeline to their backs, it was a .pretty off the map location. This kept them safe for a while.

Then, the horde hit... In the middle of the night, a mob of at least 60 zombies could be seen approaching through the forest. At the edge of the forest. With the tree cover and the darkness of night, the residents didn't know what happened until it was too late. Soon the place was swarmed, zombies pounding on the doors, some simply just breaking the glass and coming through. They were fast, almost charging them. The ones that did survive barely got out of there, not able to grab anything as they just sprinted out and hoped that the undead wouldn't follow. Alexander was watch that night... And it still haunts him today, the massacre that happened because he didn't warn them on time.

Eastern Pennsylvania. May 5th, 2074. 5:23 AM.



After escaping the horde, the group managed to find this abandoned barn to sleep in for the rest of the night. It was an hour's distance on foot, so they were confident that they would at least be safe from the horde for that night. After that, they didn't know if the horde had moved on, stayed there, went in a different direction. None of the horde followed them, but these creatures and their hunting patterns were sometimes unpredictable.

The sun rose slowly that morning, casting light into the barn. Alexander was the first to be awake, rolling over in pile of hay before rubbing his eyes. He couldn't get much sleep, and the screams of dying people were still ringing in his ears. There was no saving them now he thought, and he had to look forward on what they were to do next. They had no weapons, no equipment, no supplies, and no plan or direction of where they would head to next. What they needed was a map... There was a farm house a few yards away from the barn, and it seemed like a good idea to scavenge it for anything useful. The barn didn't have much in it so it seemed, some miscellaneous farming tools, broken pieces of wood, some hay.

Alexander went to the top story of the barn, resting on the window frame that looked out to the front of the barn as he gazed at the field in front of him. The crops hadn't been tended to for years, and grass grew where corn seemed to be grown originally. The woods were towards their backs, the field to the barn's left, and the house was to the right. Directly in front of the barn, a few yards out, was the road that they had followed to get here. On the way here it was unclear what road it was, let alone what direction it was going in. Maybe with a few signs or a map, it could be figured out.

Slipping on his leather jacket, he watched the calm and beautiful scenery, watching a bird out in the distance land on a branch. These moments were to be cherished... In a world full of death, hate, and destruction, there was still a beauty of nature like this. Maybe this was all mother nature getting back at humans for polluting or something, who was to say? For now Alexander would wait for the others to awaken before he did anything else. It seemed like a meeting was to be in order. What would the survivors do now?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Jayson Voss has had quite a few dances with death in his lifetime, but never as intimate, never as close as the one he was about to waltz. One moment everything was fine, he was in the middle of telling a story to this middle aged man named Frank. It was about the time he had to run from some Zeds who had caught him, pants down, in the act of pissing on a old maple tree. He had Frank slapping his knee and crying tears of laughter, a beautifully normal droplet of time, it reminded him of how he loved to hear his father tell stories. Jay took a drag of the cigarette he had been smoking and chuckled to Frank's remark on his story, the chuckle turned into a slight cough at the end, perks of smoking. One moment, happiness existed in the amber of time they sat in and in the next moment it was ripped away just as swiftly as it came.

Zombies were on the safe house in seconds, a warning shouted out from the lookout but at that point it was too late. They were on the survivors. The glass doors were shattered and busted open in seconds. People dropped like flies, blood painted everything. Jayson scrambled for his weapons, why had he set them down? Fucking idiot, they were the Zeds' property now. Jayson looked around as his fellow survivors died from bites and tears and rips and he just... Shut down. Survival mode took hold of Voss's mind, adrenaline poured in. Scanning for an escape route, his eyes found the fire exit and his legs took over. His athletic body propelled him past the bare aisles and he used his shoulder to barge through the door. A Zed had been banging on the other side when Jayson slammed through and the Zed ended up square on its back, Jay jumped over it. Voss sprinted for the tree line and sat in wait for the others, if any were to survive. He hunkered down and made sure to stay perfectly still to make sure the Zeds never noticed him.



Jayson jerked awake, a restless sleeper as always. Thankfully no one was close to him, he was known for thrashing in his sleep, nightmares had a way of doing that to him. It was the same nightmare as every night and the outcome wasn't any different, his parents always died in front of his eyes. Already in a bad mood, Jay shoved himself from the hay he was sleeping on and slipped out of the barn. He decided to scope out the area, make sure everyone was safe. He had seen enough people die for awhile, any more would probably drive him through the roof. Absentmindedly, Jayson retrieved the pack of cigarettes that had been nestled in his back pocket and grabbed a cigarette from the pack and lit it. A morning smoke had a knack for clearing his usually frazzled brain.

After his little patrol of the area, he returned to the barn. The others were still sleeping, except for one. The lookout from the gas station was awake. Jayson shot him a glare, the genius couldn't even alert the survivors at the station in time, fucking useless. Voss stood in the doorway of the barn and slammed his fist against the door frame a few times. "Rise and shine sweethearts, that horde could be coming back through here at any moment. We need a plan and we also need to high tail it the fuck outta here."

Jayson would wait until all were awake and ready to discuss the next course of action to speak up. "I say we head west and hit every spot we can to gather up some gear 'cause I'm sure as hell not going back to that shit show of a gas station for only a pistol and a pocket knife." Jay looked around at the people in front of him, "or does anyone else have any other bright fucking ideas?"

Flynn couldn't catch a break: she had arrived at the safehouse that night only moments before the horde attacked. She hadn't had the time to even talk to another person when the fearful screams and fleeing began. Although she the knew the drill at that point, she found herself frozen in the familiarity of the moment and shock held her still like a ball and chain. In her paralyzed state, another had knocked her over in his rush to get away. She had gasped, surprised by the strike, but it kicked her adrenaline into gear: she wasn't going to allow herself to be Zed-food. Unlike some of the safehouse's inhabitants, she had nothing or no one to leave behind so there was no question--she simply had to run. She followed others, readjusting quickly to a group mentality.

It was a strange calm she experienced, arriving at the barn with other survivors. She had barely managed to get away, but she did and she was surrounded by people. No one spoke to her, though. Everyone had gathered their bearings and lied down to rest. As she sat against a wall to follow suit, she found herself crying silently. Her brow furrowed and she wiped at her eyes, unable to place the tears. Unlike some of the others, she hadn't lost anything more at the safehouse. She sniffled in the darkness--not the only one to be sure--and quietly calmed herself down as she drifted into a light sleep.

---

Bang, bang, bang!

Flynn flinched as she was awoken. From her seat in the corner she saw a lean and tall man yelling at the group. She sat up straighter, shoulders rolling. She had never slept in such an uncomfortable position and she bit back a whine as she stretched, hearing unfamiliar pops come from her body. Finally, she somehow managed to give the man her attention, but he was already wrapping up his... warm awakening. She had never seen such aggression and it brought a small frown to lips, but she didn't find anything to argue against nor was she knowledgeable about the ins and outs of travel. Instead, she slowly stood up and looked around at the other survivors. It was a small group compared to how many had been at the gas station.

David laid there, eyes closed. Half dreaming of the remaining warmth he held for communities past, half praying to find that kind of comfort in numbers again. He knew that it was time for action, it was time for discussions. But he knew that if he laid there and continued in the refuge of "sleeping", he could avoid it just a bit longer. Avoid the whos, the whats, the wheres, the whens that this action-less refuge provided. He missed having decisions made for him in a way.

Bang, bang, bang!

Refuge ruined.

Acting as if he'd just awoken, "What about the others? What if they come here looking for us and we're on some trip west?"

"FUCKING WAKE UP" the guy shouted "THEY'RE BREAKING THROUGH". He shook Ameerah's shoulder violently, she sat up suddenly but was dazed. The guy pulled her by the cloak and pushed her through the now opened window, then threw her boots out behind her. Ameerah tumbled and groggily got up, looking back inside, the guy tried to hold several Zombies back with a detached door, but their combined weight overpowered him. She looked at her stuff in the corner of the room now full of the freaks.

Ameerah squat down out of the freaks line of sight. She pulled her boots on and drew her cloak hood over her braided hair. Now firmly awake she looked around and noticed some other survivors on the run. Hoping they knew where they were going, she quietly followed, making sure none of the freaks were tailing them.



Waking to movement in the barn, Ameerah noticed one of the survivors scouting around, 'smart' she thought, the same guy then pounded the door to wake everyone up, 'maybe not so smart' she mused dryly.
Ameerah sat up in the pile of hay in the loft of the barn. She looked down at everyone scattered around, some she recognised from yesterday at the trading station. She cinched her belt bringing her loose clothes close to her small waist that contrasted dramatically with her size.

One of the survivors seemed keen to take the lead, or at least have his opinion heard, she quietly nodded in agreement, though the trade goods and travelling provisions she left behind last night were much more valuable than a pistol and a pocket knife.
Ameerah climbed down from the hay loft. She felt vulnerable without a weapon, having grown up in an agrarian community, she knew many farm tools could double as a weapon, provided the wooden handles weren't compromised, so she went straight for the tool bench to get first pick of anything useful, and hopefully, reliably lethal.

---

This must be.. what? The fourteenth time you've been in a safehouse that got attacked in the middle of the night? Seems to me that you would have started sleeping with it strapped on by now.
As the pain in his arms began to subside he finally stopped his mental assault against himself. He methodically slid his arms into his coat and brushed the dirt from his knees as he stood. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug and Nikolai could never sleep when he was experiencing it. Rather than stay inside the barn with the others he had snuck outside to begin his ritual punishments, in the form of exercise. As the sun rose he took a deep breath of the new day's air, both refreshing him and calming his heart. For the next few moments he stared out at the rising sun and recalled every memory of the past night...

Nikolai had picked a corner of the safehouse and stashed his gear behind him to use it as a pillow. Had the infected not broken through the glass just 5 or so feet in front of him, he would've had time to grab something. He only had time to jump to his feet and precisely kick the monster on the inside of his knee, causing it to mistep and fall backwards. One glance to his left revealed dozens of infected barreling down on the "safe"house, and thats all it took for him to mentally say "Nope" and book it out the opposite direction. Several others had the same idea and pack instincts took over. Arriving at the small barn, he had desperately tried to calm himself and sleep like the rest, but he knew what he had to do..

Bang, bang, bang!

Nikolai returned from his meditation as a disgruntled man had walked past him seemingly without detecting him in the darkened lean to section around the back of the barn. Soon after, the banging was heard and Nikolai walked towards the entrance to hear the others' plans. Having heard what the man had to say, he smirked slightly and decided that since the others would be arguing for a bit, he would check out the farmhouse. He began the short journey to the front door of the rundown residence.

Ollie didn't like being out in the open during the night; it wasn't safe, didn't have the sunlight to help her see. She could have been back at the hideout already, but a horde had surrounded the town, she was scouting a few miles behind her. It seemed there were too many hordes being formed as the days went on by, but what would the reason be if it was true? She shook her head. Being lost in her thoughts were never right for herself, she needed to make her mind clear, maybe get some rest.

She remembered seeing an old gas station a few days ago when she first started her Scout expedition. It seemed a lot of people used it as a shelter or even a landmark which meant that there wouldn't be anything worth to loot. It would keep her safe for the rest of the night, though. In the morning, she would head back out and continue on her own business.

It took her twenty minutes to get to the station but wasn't even there ten minutes when a horde attacked it. She cursed to herself; there was no luck for her tonight. The adrenaline pumped through her blood streams; she had fucked up. Ollie left her weapons behind at the town; it was an honest mistake on her fault. Everything became a blur, it happened so quickly, but somehow she managed to escape, but her clothes covered in blood. Infected or clean, she wasn't sure, but that didn't matter right now.



Ollie's eyes opened when she started to hear movement, for a split second she forgot where she was. Everything from the night before flashed back into her mind, as she sat up, and leaned against the wall. Some patches of her memory were still fuzzy, but she was safe at least at the moment. She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, her body slowly waking itself up from the short slumber.

Bang! Bang!

Ollie flinched but calmed herself and realized that it was from someone banging on a door, not gunshots. Her eyes rolled when a man started to shout out orders and ideas. She stood up, dusted the hay off of her body, took a few steps closer to the man, and waved her hand in the air.

"Hi. Not trying to step on your toes right now but what exactly is your plan? Continue to run out the horde, hoping that another one doesn't pop out from somewhere else?" Ollie asked. "Plus, why West? Unless I accidently invited myself in a friendship community that was formed by all of you. How do you know that's where the majority of people want to go?"

Her freckled face didn't show any hints on how she felt about everything, though the seriousness (with a hint of sarcasm) in her voice could tell anyone that she meant business.

---

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4 MAY 2074, 1127 HOURS
EASTERN PENNSYLVANIA

Madeline woke to the sound of hysteria —along with a little shattering glass. It seemed the zeds had found this small refuge, just as she knew they would. She had just hoped it would've been later rather than sooner. By the time she was on her feet the tile floors were already slick with blood. She started backing up while reaching for the M9 that was holstered on her hip. Madeline unclipped the gun, bringing it up while chambering a round...just to have it knocked out of her hand by a nearby zed. "Fuck!" she yelled, turning around to run for the back door. Something caught her backpack as she tried to run; between that and the slick floors she almost lost her footing. She shrugged the pack off, sprinting now towards the open door. One zed laid outside it, writhing to get back up, having apparently just been knocked down. She sidestepped its flailing appendages before running for the trees. Too close she thought as she met up with the other survivors.

---

---

5 MAY 2074, 0530 HOURS
EASTERN PENNSYLVANIA

A loud banging woke Maddie from her sleep. She jolted up, curled fists ready to fight off whatever had come to kill them this time. The guy standing in the door was lucky; if she hadn't lost her gun at the station Madeline might've turned its sights on him. Shoot first, ask questions later. Her grandfather had taught her that, though thinking of him now would be too much to bear. She yawned, rubbing sleep from her fatigued eyes. Her body ached, longing to lay back down. She knew, however, that she had to work hard if she was to earn the survivors' trust; after all, she had only been at the station for one day before the attack.

Madeline glanced around at the others' faces. A mixture of worry, fear, anger, and fatigue looked back at her. She saw one woman quietly slink away from the group towards a work bench. Madeline knew having a good weapon would be much more important than arguing, so she followed discreetly. She moved fluidly, gracefully to where shorter woman stood, careful not to startle her. "Anything worthwhile?" Madeline asked in a warm voice, almost whispering.

Jayson took a drag of his cigarette and surveyed the other survivors, we're a sorry-looking bunch... he thought to himself. Here they were, up Shit's Creek with no paddle and a leak in the boat. No weapons, food, or water. He was hoping everyone would stick around and try to create some sort of plan or at least adjust his, but no such luck. It seemed some of them weren't to keen on being part of a group, which was fine really, to each his own. At least he was trying to do something, that had to count for something right?

One man finally broke the overbearing silence and finally spoke up. He asked about the others and suggested they stay and wait. Jayson pondered this, but it seemed too risky.

"Not to be a downer but, I'm pretty sure no one else got out of there alive and if they did then they're on their own now. We got lucky we all ended up here. It's too risky to go back there anyways, Zeds were all over that place and all the screams probably attracted more, that place is a death trap now."

Jay was just about to suggest that they at least start moving, anywhere, he didn't even care where. He believed staying static led to being trapped very quickly, especially with these Zeds having that annoying horde mentality. But he held his tongue when a woman with short hair and freckles finally spoke up. She seemed irritated with him, or maybe she wasn't up for his bullshit this early in the morning. It surprised him that so many people he met were taken aback by his harsh and blunt exterior. This was a fucked up and twisted world, who survived by being nice these days?

Voss listened to her words carefully and paused a few seconds to gather his response. "Look, I'm not claiming to be a genius or anything like that, but I feel like this is common sense. Staying in one spot gets you killed, a perfect example of that would be, ya know... Last night. I honestly don't care which way we go as long as we move. If we're active and alert and moving we can outmaneuver Zeds, unless I'm overestimating your abilities. And honestly, I don't even care if you all don't want to group up or work with each other. I'm just trying to give you guys options, so do you have any ideas?"

Jayson eyed the girl, and then continued once again.

"Didn't you hear that radio broadcast? If there's a chance that there is a place free of zombies then I want to check it out. It's probably a trap or a lie but hell, it's better than sitting around waiting to get chomped on. I don't know where the hell it is but West sounds better than nothing. Worst comes to worst I'll find another settlement... Hopefully. Look, you don't have to come, none of you do. But I'm not going to sit around all day waiting for that horde to come back or for another horse to come. But if any of you want to come you're more than welcome to... so yeah."

Jayson ended his little speech awkwardly and then strode over to the tool bench to see if he could use anything that was there. Even a knife would make him feel safer, he could work with a knife. Using his hands was riskier and usually required more effort, something he couldn't afford with the lack of water and food.

The tool bench had a thick layer of dust, it was rather empty, not even the usual odds and ends. Ameerah reached out to pick up a wooden mallet, but it was eaten from the inside out by borers. The next thing was a rubber mallet, useless as a weapon but could come in handy, she dusted it off and tucked it into her belt.

Turning her face slightly to the tall lady who now also stood by the table, she replied "not much here". There was a small rusted shovel, Aneerah picked it up and felt it's weight, she turned away from the bench and swung it in a chopping motion. Turning again to the woman she declared cynically "I hope there's something between than this inside". "By the way, I'm Ameerah" she announced, loud enough for everyone to hear.

Ameerah turned back to the bench and analysed it, maybe some timber could be broken off and used as a club, she scanned the area around the bench and under, maybe something useful had fallen off, to be found 50 years later.

---

As he got closer to the front door of the old farmhouse, Nikolai made a mental note that it didn't seem to have an attic or second floor. Quieting his steps and approaching slowly, he prepared for the worst. Creaking the stairs on his way up didn't drag his attention away from the door. "Caution with quiet." Those were the words resounding in his head as he examined the door. After a quick look he realized that the latch was broken. Something or someone had forced its way in. Planting his right foot back placing his left heel on the ground while the left toe pressed the door, he lowered his toe and the door swung quietly inward. Checking his corners he moved into the wreckage of a living room.

Nikolai knew right away that someone had been desperate. No one would be dumb enough to cause this much damage while just looting, even out in the woods. He quickly surveyed the area, ahead of him lay a hallway with a multitude of doors, to his left there was the rest of the living room, and to his right, a kitchen. He gently closed his eyes and listened but heard nothing. Closely examining the ground and carefully planting his feet on nothing that would make noise, he got to the edge of the hallway before stopping to listen again. Softly echoing from the half ajar door at the very end of the hall was a low growl. Not knowing whether it was a weirdo that liked to growl, a dog or an infected, he carefully backed up and calmly began walking into the kitchen to search for a weapon. He was slow and thorough making sure to stop and listen every couple of seconds. The going was slow but extremely quiet...

Ollie quietly listened to the man; she folded her arms against her chest as he explained himself, he did have some good points. They shouldn't stay here for every long, but none of them have weapons or food. She wasn't too worried about the food, though; she was more concerned about protecting herself. She didn't realize that her eyes started to roam to the ground until he mentioned the radio broadcast. She only remembered bits and pieces; there was a city with no Zeds, and it was in Wyoming.

Her forehead wrinkled as she tried to remember where it existed, without having a map, her memory was fuzzy. Trying to remember all the states weren't high on the list of her survival guide. She reached up and ran her fingers through her hair as he finished his little speech, having some strange points, he didn't end off strongly.

"As you said yourself, it's probably a trap or a lie. Even it is true, how long will it stay Zed free? I do agree we should continue to move and not stay in one place, but we still have no weapons or food." She rubbed the back of her neck and glanced around the barn. Some of the other survivors were already looking at benches to see if there was anything worth their time. She could tell that everyone was still on edge, hell she was trying to mentally prepare herself as they continued to plan things out because she knew that any horde could show up on their doorstep.

"I'm not speaking for everyone but how about this? We search the barn and farmhouse, see if we can't find anything that will be worth our time. I left something important to me somewhere else that I need to go back too, but I'm not going anywhere without a weapon." She turned her head to another man that mentioned about other survives some moments ago. "I don't believe there are any more survivors from the station either, but if we stay here searching for items maybe that will give them enough time to find us; if there is anyone else." She commented.

Ollie walked to the barn door and glanced to the direction of the farmhouse. "It seems someone already had the idea of checking out the house." She whispered to herself.

Alexander looked back at the group, seeing as though everybody was more or less awake and talking already among themselves. It seems one of them tried to take charge for the most part, talking to see what they were going to do and where they were going. Others had milled around the work space, finding two interesting tools/weapons but not much else besides that. The farm had been abandoned for years, picked clean, and anything of value was most likely eroded and rusted beyond use. One person seemed to have gone to the farm house alone, which was either for good or for bad. Alexander watched him enter the building before walking away, standing and looking over the group.

"Look, it seems we all have the same general idea: We find what we can here that's of use and head of down the road. A while back when I found the safehouse I noticed this road leads west into western Pennsylvania. I don't know exactly where we're at, but I know this is a major route that we can at least follow for a decent bit. Hopefully we can find some small town or city to find more supplies. Let's see what we can find here, as I see three of you are doing. One of us has seems to gone into the farmhouse. I don't know about you, but I think we should at least look with him. Better stuff might be there." Alexander simply noted, climbing down to go meet the others on the ground floor. "I say once we check the house, we should take a move on while there's still sunlight."

Back in the house, the low growling continued to sound. Nothing moved, doors didn't open, just the low growling continued. After scrounging around, Nikolai seemed to find a small kitchen knife the size of his hand. It was a bit dull, but the tip was decently sharp, enough to stab something with enough force. He found nothing else with the quick glance, but the growling now seemed to get louder.

---

After his quick search, he was rewarded with a small knife and was damn thankful for it as the growling noise seemed to grow louder. Nikolai very slowly began making his way outside by way of the front door. All the while gripping the knife tightly and stopping to peak at the hallway to ensure that nothing had come out. Jokingly he thought to himself "Its gonna be a bear. Because I can't catch a damn break." Having only seen pictures of bears in storybooks as a child, he often joked to himself about how one day he wouldn't be careful enough and a bear would somehow still be around to eat him. He finally made it to the doorway and took a full step outside before turning back towards the house. He wasn't about to leave his back to the house all the way back to the barn and noise would make the situation worse. So he waited and hoped the others would come or the thing would turn out to be a dog...