The sun rises on another day of this nightmare. God.. 12 days and its a surprise some folks don't even know the world has nearly ended. Everything you had is gone except your equipment and your will to survive. The only question is if you can take it all and keep going? There has to be others out there, other survivors in this hell on earth.

MT Tanner

Despite the bodies littered on the streets it is somewhat quiet in the park, the sounds of birds chirping a long with a few sounds of moans and groans from the zombies. It wasn't long, though until...

BANG!
A gunshot pierces through the serene environment, causing birds to fly and the blood covered walking corpses shift their attention to the north. Someone's out there but it will only be a matter of time until they're no longer there.

Marshall City
It looked like zombie pride day as hordes roamed the streets with their mindless drive to kill. In the distance gunfire could be heard from the courthouse, but this was the first time it was soo frequent. Whoever is at that courthouse they aren't alone.. Unless one man could carry six guns and shoot them at the same time. This city doesn't look like the best option to be in but it seems you don't have many options in the zombie apocalypse.

Fairview

Barricades and gates were set up separating Fairview fom the rest of Trumbull valley. To those who walk by a man with a gun could sometimes be spotted in a tower nearby. It wouldn't be the best to challenge those gates.. But who put them up there, and why aren't they helping everyone else?

Spencer's Mill

It was a relief to see the sunlight stretch across the dark world to expose the zombies that roamed the yards, streets, and homes. That wasn't the only thing that the sunlight had brought out, though. On a radio tower near the local fast food, a figure could be seen sitting on top of the tower, it's legs hanging over the edge. Despite the small image up high, it was obvious he wasn't a mindless zombie, but he... For some reason has a tan bushy tail.

I never thought all that much of Mom before things went to shit. She made dinner, made me brush my teeth every evening and shower in the morning, even if I wasn't going anywhere. Hell, I have no idea why, considering what little I've done for her, but she bought me stuff. Now that she's "gone", shambling around in the locked closet, groaning at the first noise, I might even admit I miss her.

I'm pretty sure I know what's going on.

This may be the coolest thing that's ever happened to me. Seriously, I've trained day and night for this. All those Day Z streaks and Left 4 Dead with the guys has got me prepared to survive, and with all that airsoft, I'm sure shooting up the zed's won't be a problem.

Anyway, among other things, Mom mentioned something about Dad and Sis camping up north. Not that I've seen 'em in years and she was probably delirious from the fever, but it's a start. First though, I'm going to stick around town, see what I can scavenge before heading to Mount Tanner. The gun shop looks like a good start and the owner's kid's been my friend since junior-high.
Well, knowing my way around an outbreak, the gun shop's probably already been ransacked. Though, I'm sure about one thing.

No one ever goes for .22 Long Rifle.

The side-streets of the rural town of Spencer's Mill were dead quiet. The usual sound of cars and other methods of transportation had stopped and even birds seemed uneasy about chirping. Didn't change much for Jeff though, as he navigated the side-streets, heading towards the gun shop. He kept a steady pace, doing a mix of a jog and a fast walk, all while trying to make as little noise, and so far, so good. He tightly held his Ruger 10/22 rifle in his hand as he walked, keeping it at the ready in case he was jumped. His jacket rustled somewhat when he moved, due to the empty boxes of .22 Long Rifle rounds and the extra twenty-five round box magazines that he kept in an easily accessible pocket in case he needed to reload.

As he turned a corner, he slowed down somewhat, to quietly observe the street ahead for obstacles and loosen his scarf somewhat. Holding the rifle in one hand, Jeff used his freehand to pull down his beanie. Finally, after making sure that he was well-dressed enough that things wouldn't get in the way and there were no obstacles, he got back into a jog, until he reached a car in front of the gun store, parked haphazardly in the middle of the road. Instinctively, he crouched behind it, using it as cover as he reconed the store. The windows looked to be freshly boarded up, though the door looked to be slightly ajar. As far as he could see, there didn't seem to be anyone watching him, or any zed's, as Jeff liked to call the things that now walked the street, around.

Carefully leaving his cover, he shouldered the rifle with his right hand as he carefully opened the door, as he had practiced many times before. Deeming it safe to enter, he fully opened the door and found that his expectations were confirmed. All of the rifles were taken, same for carbines, SMGs and most of the pistols, only leaving a bit of extra ammo on a shelf. The display boxes had been shattered to get to the weapons, but there seemed to be no blood around, a tell tale sign that his friend had probably left and looters had taken the weapons without trouble. Sighing, the boy grumbled to himself. "Well of course. It's been twelve damn days, of course some other asshole would get before me." He shrugged before putting his weapon down on the counter and closed the door. "Might as well see if they left anything." Removing the flashlight from his jacket pocket, he began his search, rummaging through drawers, searching the floor and grabbing whatever useful stuff he could find behind the counter.

At the end of his searches, he had found little of major importance, save for a Colt Detective Special ("What an antique") chambered in .38 Special which had been hidden under the counter, a box of .22 ammo, a few .38 Special rounds, some gauze and a pack of Kit-Kats. Chuckling, he put the snub-nose revolver in his pocket and made a remark to no one in particular. "Ha, I'm surviving the apocalypse today! Got myself some Kit-Kats!" Before opening the door, he pocketed the rest of his "loot", retrieved his rifle and headed out the door.

Upon leaving the store, the first thing he noticed was the radio tower, a logical observation as it was directly across the street from the store. However, it wasn't the tower in itself that bothered him, but the eerily alive looking figure standing on the platform on top. Immediately, Jeff's first reaction was to hide. He dove behind the same car as before as he eyed the figure. Shit, I know where this is going. I've played Day Z, that guy's probably a bandit, waiting for me to leave the store before taking my stuff! He readied his rifle and peaked on the sides of the car, waiting for the figure to begin firing upon him. Jeff kept peaking from side to side of the car to try to throw the sniper off, urgently pointing his .22 at him each time. He kept this up for a good minute or so before noticing that the figure not only had a tail, but seemingly no rifle accurate enough to hit him.

Tentatively, Jeff left his cover and shouldered his rifle, and after making a worried 'gulp', he yelled up to the figure. "You there! 'Mind letting me head up there?! Hey, you! You hear me!?" He kept yelling, until he heard a moan to his flank. Turning his head, his eyes wide like a deer in headlights, he was met with an angry looking group of walkers. Gasping, he looked around and noticed groups coming from both ends of the streets. The gun shop's a dead end, the place's back door's been boarded up. Shit, shit, shit... He began breathing heavily as he looked for a way out before deciding upon the tower. "Alright man, whether you like it or not, I'm coming on up there!" Jeff made a dash for the ladder, holding his rifle under his arm with an iron grip as he hurriedly climbed up, the dead running towards him.

Within a moment, covered in sweat and shallowly breathing, he reached the platform and looked up to meet the figure.

"Kyle. Kyle, wake up."

Kyle opened his eyes to see David standing over him. He looked over at the tally marks on the wall. They'd been keeping track of the days that passed since everything went to hell. Apparently today was day 12. "You sure it's only been 12 days? Feels like we've been trapped here for months."

"I think it's accurate. Don't know for sure, though. I could have missed a day or two."

Kyle stood up. "We need to get the hell out of here, man. I can't stand this place any longer."

"And where will we go? Believe me, I want to get out just as much as you do, but we don't have a car and Marshall City's crawling with zombies."

Kyle sat down to think. As much as he hated to admit it, Dave was right. There was no way out. If they had a car, it would be different, but with all of the zombies it would be hard, if not impossible, to get one. Still, if they could get one, it would be their ticket out of there. Even if it was an old, broken-down one, they had all the tools they needed to fix it up and get it running again. There were plenty of cars in the street, so they could just get the closest one and bring it in.

His thoughts were interrupted by gunfire in the distance. "Oh, yeah. There's another thing we have to deal with. Those assholes at the courthouse are shooting anything that moves."

"You don't know that, Dave. They could just be shooting zombies." Still, staying away from the courthouse would be a good idea. It sounded like a warzone over there, and although they could be friendly, it wasn't worth the risk. "I think I have a plan. We go out, get the nearest car, and bring it back in. After that, we fix it up and drive out of here."

"That plan sucks."

"Would you rather stay here until we get eaten alive?"

Dave grabbed their pistols off the workbench and threw one to Kyle. "All right, fine. But we'll have to open these big garage doors, and they're loud as shit."

Kyle didn't consider that. The sound would attract walkers for sure. There had to be a better way. "Well...if one of us stays here and opens the door when the other comes back with the car, we should be able to get it in before anything comes for us." He thought about it a bit longer, then decided that was the best plan he could think of. "All right, let's do rock-paper-scissors. loser goes out to get the car."

Kyle ended up choosing rock, and David chose scissors. "Best two out of three."

Kyle sighed. "Fine. Sore loser."

Kyle thought Dave would choose the same thing again. Unfortunately, he was wrong. Dave chose paper this time, so Kyle ended up losing. Now, there was only one round left. Kyle hoped he would win, but a part of him still wanted to lose. He didn't want to go out there, but he knew he wouldn't be able to handle the guilt if Dave died out there. In the end, he didn't have to worry about the guilt, because he picked paper, and David chose scissors. It was settled. Kyle was going to go out and get the car.

The small door-the one that was made for people-didn't make a sound as Kyle opened it. He wished the other door was like that. Dave was already standing near the button that opened the garage doors. "Don't worry, man. I'll make sure no zombies come in when I open this."

Kyle nodded. "Alright, here we go." He went out, and closed the door behind him. He held his pistol out in front of him, prepared for any undead that might come his way. He couldn't see any nearby, but one could jump out at any moment.

Jenna sat quietly with her back against the wall of the mostly empty room. She wasn't moving much, and anyone who stumbled across her might think she was dead, if it wasn't for her barely audible breathing, and the fact that one of her ears twitched in the direction of the nearest noise every now and then. She was just asleep, for now, and having a not so pleasant dream from the way her face looked. Whatever dream she had didn't last long though, as she suddenly jerked awake, suppressing a startled yelp in the process. She sighed heavily as she stood, and gave a glance out the window. "Morning huh?" Jenna said to herself as she stretched her arms, and thought for a moment. "Two hours at most then?"

She needed to get out of here soon, then. This place was probably already crawling with zombies. First though, she checked the bandages on her shoulder. It had taken a bit of a beating when she had escaped her parents house a week or so ago. She bandaged it and cleaned it as best as she could, but she wasn't an expert. It had mostly healed, she thought, but it still caused some pain every now and then. She figured that was probably not a good sign, but she wasn't a professional, so she was optimistically hopeful it was just doing that because it was healing. After seeing that everything was more or less in order, she walked over to where she had sat her backpack down. As she went to pick it up though, her foot slipped on something causing her to loose her balance.

She hit the ground on her injured shoulder with a loud thud, thankfully managing to suppress a pained yelp in hopes of not attracting any zombies that weren't already alerted to her presence. As she laid there and caught her breath, a vodka bottle rolled into her field of vision, obviously the perpetrator of her recent fall. "Huh, I wondered where that went..." Jenna said as she sat up, massaging her sore shoulder. She picked up the bottle, and much to her dismay found it empty. "Well so much for a morning refreshment."

Her thoughts were interrupted by a series of moans and shuffling behind the door. So much for getting out of here quietly. She quickly picked up her backpack, and slung it over her shoulders and went to the window. After making sure the outside was relatively clear of zombies, she jumped through the window, putting her good shoulder first. By time the zombies broke down the door and shambled over to the window, she was already gone.

---

After having what could be considered a brush with death this morning, Jenna decided she needed to get her bearings. She wasn't sure what part of town she was in, as she hadn't exactly been in Trumbull valley for very long. She lived in the city, and her parents moved here shortly after she got into college, so aside from what she discovered while she was avoiding zombies, she knew relatively little about the town. All she knew was that she was north of her parents house in Marshall City. So was this Spencer's Mill? She shook her head and decided it didn't really matter for the moment. She took a tentative look around the corner of a building. The road beyond seemed clear enough of zombies. There were a few scattered about, but she could easily sneak past them so long as she didn't have a repeat of the incident with the vodka bottle.

She crouched, and quietly made her way to the front of the house, her S&W in her hands ready to fire at a moments notice. As she neared the front of the building, she spotted a figure sitting on top of some radio tower. Was it another survivor? That would be nice to find after about a week of being by herself. She wasn't going anywhere near the tower though, the street in that direction was crawling with Zombies. Before she could make a move though, she heard someone yelling something from down the street. "What the...? Whoever that is, is a goddamn idiot." She thought with a small smile. "But good for me...mostly." Zombies began to run down the street, away from her. Whoever had shouted that was in for a nasty surprise. Still, though with all the zombies being running around moving would be bad for her health.

---

Cristoph sighed as he crushed the butt of his second to last cigarette under his shoe as he looked out of his home's window. Well, it was either now or never for the doctor. He couldn't stay here any more, he finished off the last of his supplies this morning. He had mixed feelings about leaving. This was their home...her home, and now her grave. He buried her in the back yard shortly after he found her dead, torn to pieces by the...creatures. He made a makeshift gravestone for her out of some wooden planks, and carved her name into it. That was a week ago. He lit his last cigarette and took a long drag from it before turning away from the window. He stuffed both of his hands into his lab coats pockets. It was either now or never, if he didn't force himself to leave here now, he wouldn't be able to make himself do it later.

He made his way to the front door, removing the planks he had used to board it up. He took the first step outside of his house in days, slowly walking down the sidewalk towards the road, keeping an eye out for any of the so called undead. He wasn't going to get very far on his own two feet. Physical fitness wasn't he forte. The first thing he would need was a vehicle. He had a pretty good idea where one was. There was a construction site not too far from here. The problem was going to be getting there.

Cristoph kept a pace that could be described as a fast walk, making sure to keep the noise he made to a minimum. If he got spotted by those things, he wouldn't last long against them. He fingered his Tomcat with some hesitation. He wasn't exactly god with it, he mainly had it simply for personal protection. It had never left the box in his house before. He wasn't even sure if it was loaded, or even how to check if it was loaded. Guns weren't his thing. Science was.

He seemed to have been in luck, though, the area was quiet enough, and most zombies seemed to be somewhere else for the moment. If it wasn't for the eerie quiet, and lack of other people it could seem like a normal day. He didn't let the quiet distract him though. He knew that they were out there somewhere. The slightest noise he made could send a horde of the undead down upon him. He shook that gruesome thought from his head, and kept going.

He soon reached the construction site with little incident, he did have to take a detour though, as a horde of zombies was blocking the most direct route. The detour proved to be good, though, as he heard some gunfire coming from the old Ascension Church. After he checked to see if this vehicle was still there, he'd have to drive by and see if there was indeed someone there that had room for one more. Surely a experienced doctor would be in high demand in this situation.

As he neared the old construction site, he let out a sigh of relief. He was right, there was an pickup truck right where he thought there would be. Now, the only question is, would it run?

Pained screams erupted through the two story house, as Father Macintyre ran with all his might towards the source, axe in hand and sweat pouring down his brow as he flew down the stairs. The screams could only mean one thing: His faithful follower Cindy had fallen victim to the clutch of these wicked monsters. He rounded the corner to the kitchen, and the sight was truly lifted right out of a nightmare: Cindy had dropped her bat when she was ambushed, and batted uselessly at her assailant's head with balled fists, tears streaming down her face, and bodily fluids erupting from her mouth. Blood was streaming out in a pool around her, as two of the vile creatures ripped into her stomach, not even bothering to kill her first before devouring her flesh. They tore strips of flesh from her, shoving the fistfuls of meat into their mouths, and biting into various organs. Her guts were strewn around her, and even Mac stood in shock and horror, face pale and eyes wide with fear, amazed she could even still be alive.

A split second later, after what seemed like an hour to the father, he snapped out of it, and rage filled him. Damn you, Lucifer, trying to take this young girl as your own! God has already claimed her a spot in His Holy Kingdom, I will not let you take her! Gritting his teeth, he stomped over to the zombies, readying his axe and swinging it wide to his side. The closest stopped feasting, and turned towards the noise, only to have the axe impact right into int's neck, it's head severed off save for a few strands of sinew. Blood erupted from it's open throat, and it crumpled to the ground. By this time, the other had noticed this, and stood up with surprising speed, lunging at the father and growling like an animal. Which wasn't a surprise, because this one wasn't human. It appeared to be one of those anthro people the father had seen, a cat of some sort.

Mac brought his axe up just in time to intercept it, as the cat person slammed it's body into his own, the axe handle placed along it's neck to stop it's advance. It snapped and hissed mere inches from his face, slowly getting closer. Pulling his head back, angered beyond measure, the father brought his head down with a crack, headbutting the monster. Dazed and confused, it stumbled back from the blow, and Mac flipped his axe around, swinging and smashing the creature in the side of the head with the back the axe blade, With a groan, ti fell to the ground even more dazed, and Mac took the opportunity to stand above it, placing a foot on it's chest and bringing the axe down on it's forehead. Brain matter and blood exploded from the wound, as it's skull split like a melon, and it ceased to move, the gurgled sobbing of Cindy and the father's heavy breathing the only noise that remained.

After resting for a second, he walked over to Cindy, and she sobbed, knowing what was coming next, The father held his blood stained axe in one hand, and gave her a small wooden cross with the other hand. Hands trembling, she took it, and placed it on her chest, breathing slower and slower. Not much time left for this one. With a low, respectful voice, Mac started to say the verse he had said so many times already in the last twelve days:

"O most merciful Jesus, Lover of souls, I beseech Thee, by the agony of Thy most Sacred Heart, and by the sorrows of Thine Immaculate Mother, wash clean in the Thy Blood the sinners of the whole world who are to die this day.
Remember most especially the soul I spiritually adopt with the intention of entrusting her to Thy Shepherd's care: I beseech Thee for the grace to move this sinner, who is in danger of going to Hell, to repent. I ask this because of my trust in Thy great mercy.
If it should please Thy Majesty to send me a suffering this day in exchange for the grace I ask for this soul, then, it, too, shall please me very much, and I thank Thee, Most Sweet Jesus, Shepherd and Lover of Souls; I thank Thee for this opportunity to give mercy in thanksgiving for all the mercies Thou hast shown me.
Amen.
Heart of Jesus, once in agony, have mercy on the dying."

As he recited the words, he had lifted his axe, and held it high above his head. And at the moment he finished, Cindy squeezed her eyes tight, as the axe came down, and ended her life. He stood, unfeeling for a second, before stepping away, and bursting into tears, heavy sobs erupting from his mouth. She was sixteen next week.

She stared at the knife. Looking at it with great disdain. The woman cranked her Metal up, as if to give a theme to the blades actions.

"You know this is a big deal right? You are about to take my pride from me....And all you do is stare at me."

The knife said nothing. Clearly doing something so dreadful was nothing for it. The last few days have taught the knife that it was capable of so much more than scaling a fish. Flesh of the sentient has changed the knife! Perhaps it wants to do this, the idea of stripping the Fighter of her bragging rights....

"I hate you so much right now...."

She audibly whimpered taking hold of her massive pony tail. "Yeah yeah, it helped Clem....Who would'a thought though....I mean seriously....I know I am delaying shut up!" She shouted at her reflection in the blade. With that she cut what could have only been three feet of hair, beautiful, loved locks...

"DAMNIT! DAMNIT! DAMNIT!" Despite doing it herself she clearly had put all the blame on her knife. Instantly slamming the blade into the kitchen counter, and as abrupt she had pulled the handle breaking the blade. After a few angry huffs she slaps her face a few times, attempting to calm her mood. "Sure it was your signature and an awesome mark on the fighting circuit, but in the last 4 days it has been grabbed at least a dozen times...There was no way you can gamble like that. Right? Right!" She nodded coming to terms with it...Thank God no one saw that.

The constant pounding at the door pulled the her from her troubles.

"Yeah yeah! Hell at least the stress reduction comes door to..."

As she glanced out the peep-hole she spied a lot more than normal. 2 or three she was prepared to kill....The sound of splintering wood only added to her growing heart rate.

"F*ck! F*CK!"

In a fit of rage she kicked her door, in reaction the door's frame gave her a warm crack...."Tch! Mahogny my ass!" With that she bolted to the second story. The lovely balcony allows her a vantage point on the ever growing horde. As she started count it "Note to self, if Roy isn't dead...Thank him for making you spring for a balcony." 24 or so at the door alone. Time to move, but where too?

Probably some hunters at a lodge or something closer to the base of the mountain! "Well, Time to put rule number 1 to work!" She ran back as if to jump down! She stops just short.....The F*CK what am I thinking? Azure climbs to the roof and climbs down a fencing on the side of the wall. As she started sprinting the sound of the door giving way and her music exploding out the entry way informed her of her safe escape. Into the forest with only a bag of what she considered necessities....Like her power drink mixes...

Spencer's Mill
Zombies from all around were staggering and moving towards the radio tower with a fresh meal standing on top of it. They were focused on the two men, some even walking past the girl who was crouched down in the front of a house. One thing was for sure, they can hear but their sight might not be comparable to eagle vision.

At the church, the brief shooting had stopped, perhaps because some of the zombies were diverted to the radio tower now. It was a relief for whoever was holding up at that area and it gave the survivors time to prepare.

Upon nearing the top of the ladder a fuzzy hand was held out to the man, behind it a slight smirk and a wolf-like creature who seemed to be calm despite the fact zombies were crowding around the bottom of the radio tower. "Ain't nobody told yah not to make noise?" The creature asked, stepping back while looking down at the boy. He seemed open, friendly, and serene... Probably happy to meet a survivor. It wasn't long though before the stranger started speaking again.

"You brought one hell of a crowd..." A sigh followed what the wolfish stranger had said, his head looking over the edge down at the horde forming below them. "At least they didn't get'cha." His eyes shifted back to the man on the floor, a smirk returning to his face after it had faded for a brief minute. "So! Ya got a name? Where you from? You found them guns in the store? Are there any other people with ya? I-" A cut off occurred so the wolf could correct himself, realizing he was bombarding an exhausted man with questions. He took a breath, then spoke in a slower pace. "The name's Gerald Grayson... Sorry for bugging ya its been.. Awhile since I've seen someone who wasn't a crazy. I can't wait to tell the guys at the church!" Despite the fact a ravenous horde was all bunched up beneath them, the newly met wolf was still holding himself together and not showing a lot of fear or concern for the death that was below them. When the man would look up he would see this anthro rummaging through his bag, the sound of glass clanging together being heard from inside the messenger bag he was shifting through.

At the construction site, the car seemed to be in good condition with the driver seat door hanging open. The house that was unfinished had movement inside, though, and there was dried blood sprayed across the wall nearby the truck. It would be a gamble getting the truck but from the looks of it that gamble looked to be in favor for the survivor... If he was quick enough that is.

Marshall City

Fortunately nothing had appeared to have emerged from the buildings or car wrecks that littered the streets. There were a lot of torn apart bodies strewn about the street, though along with vehicles that seemed to have a good chance of working. The gunfire from the courthouse still echoed throughout the streets, obviously being the zombie's biggest thing to concentrate on. The area was clear, the only question is how much time will it be before zombies start filling the streets once more.

Of all the vehicles scattered throughout the area, one of them, a black jeep, seemed to be in perfect condition. Beside it, though was a body on the floor, and it was breathing and making gurgling noises with it's entire body seeming to have been ravaged of all it's organs.. There was no way this thing could be alive!

Fairview

The sounds in a quiet neighborhood could easily be heard, and that meant more trouble was coming. Growls, groans, moans, and roars could be heard all around the block as more zombies were closing in on the two story house. Things didn't look good in this area, it was a very risky move to stay despite the loss of a friend. It wasn't long until there was glass shattering and the front door being banged on, but there might be an alternative way out, perhaps even a back door. Fortunately, a vehicle won't be a problem, for cars were in almost every driveway within a fifty meter radius... Vehicles that belonged to unfortunate people who were not able to run before the hordes of undead got to them.

Near the main road a couple blocks down, a man could be spotted looking at the two story house with a pair of binoculars. He was wearing a urban camouflage uniform and had a assault rifle at his side. In the house he was standing by a few figures in hazmat suits were moving around before they emerged with a sense of urgency, moving towards a couple of military vehicles parked on the side of the road. Following them was another soldier, but he didn't carry all of the heavy equipment, let alone much of anything other than a pistol. He was speaking to the one on the porch and the soldier turned to his fellow man, not too happy with what he said. They argued and the armed soldier pointed towards the two story house, but somehow they managed to keep their voices down so they didn't get noticed by the ravenous horde.

Mt Tanner
There were probably four more loud gunshots before they stopped, silence and the occasional bird chirping returning to the forest. The zombies that were Ice's immediate threat were still at the house, but there were some here and there in the forests. It wasn't long until a clearing was ahead, and hushed voices could be heard. "Jenson! C'mon man get up we gotta go! You-you're gonna make it! All we gotta do is get you to a hospital and get you fixed up!"

Kyle looked up and down the street. There didn't seem to be any undead lurking around, thankfully. It was odd, though. The last time he tried to go outside the street was packed with them. Where did they go? A distant gunshot answered his question. Those guys at the courthouse must be attracting them. He hoped those guys would keep shooting. As long as the zombies were going after them, he was safe.

There were several vehicles nearby. Kyle's attention was drawn to one in particular-a black jeep that, despite being in the middle of a swarm of undead for the last 12 days, seemed to be in perfect condition. It was still a good idea to bring it back to Dave, though. If this thing broke down on the way to Spencer's Mill, they would be even more screwed than they are now. He approached it slowly. There was a guy lying right next to it, but it didn't look like he was getting back up. Just like all of the other bodies scattered around.

As he got closer, he noticed a gurgling sound coming from the body. This guy was still breathing! Kyle didn't know how that was possible. It looked like the undead tore out all of his organs, including his lungs. He didn't know if he should ignore it. There was a chance that the guy could come back, but otherwise it would be a waste of bullets. It was a tough decision, but Kyle assumed that he probably would've been attacked by now. He ignored it, and climbed into the jeep.

"Go to the mountains they said, it'll be fun they said....."

Ice had little problem with the long run in the woods, nor had she problems going without the finer things. What she did have a problem with was the fact she was utterly lost. She had made it away from the home with little trouble, a few of 'them' but nothing she couldn't slip past. Ice hit the deck as she heard the echo of gunshots! Internally she debated on if she should follow the sound or flee, shes seen enough anarchy in the movies to know how this breaks down....."Meh, death by gunshot sounds less painful as being ripped limb from limb. Though they may opt to beat me to death to save ammo?!" Her eyes dart side to side as she freaks herself out. One of 'them' moan only adding to her disaster scenario! Ice choked back a scream opting to instead run as fast as she could in 'that' direction....Finally she saw a stretch of land, a clearing.

"Great, I found a lot of nothing! Nothing is good!"
Taking a few steps out into the clearing she hears something.

"Jenson! C'mon man get up we gotta go! You-you're gonna make it! All we gotta do is get you to a hospital and get you fixed up!"
'People! People is good, they don't eat you! Wait, they do if they are hungry and have poor moral fiber. Did they have the guns?' A million thoughts pour into Ice as she ducks straight down, thought her blue fur is a stark contrast to the fallen leaves and grass. After what feels like an eternity her ears perk up as she hesitantly lifts herself from the ground, trying to approach the voices. "H-Hello?" Her tail even seems to be on edge as she awaits either a friendly voice or small arms fire. "I promise I am not gunna hurt you. Just a lost tourist, trying to get back from hell." A nervous laugh followed her words, thinking about how close to hell she must really be.

After reaching the top of the ladder, Jeff spent a good moment just breathing and regaining himself after the hasty clamber up the tower, before accepting the hand of the man. "You brought one hell of a crowd..." He uttered as he pulled Jeff up. Immediately, Jeff sat down on the platform, before being bombarded with questions by the stranger. "So! Ya got a name? Where you from? You found them guns in the store? Are there any other people with ya? I-" He paused, probably for Jeff's sake. Despite his exhaustion, Jeff chuckled somewhat before the man started again.

"The name's Gerald Grayson... Sorry for bugging ya its been.. Awhile since I've seen someone who wasn't a crazy. I can't wait to tell the guys at the church!"

"I'm... phew..."Jeff tried to begin to speak, but he was forced to pause to take a breath. "Jeff Ryan, from around here." He took the opportunity to shake Gerald's hand before answering his questions. "I'm alone and I didn't find much in the store save for a few twenty-two rounds, a thirty-eight special snub-nose, some gauze..." He said this as he wrapped said gauze on his hands, in a way that evoked boxing tape, to cover up a few blisters he had gotten from his brisk way of climbing the ladder. Admittedly, getting blisters from simply climbing a ladder, but, also admittedly, wrist wraps look badass. Good enough excuse, if you ask me. "Oh, and, ha, found some Kit-Kats. Not sharing those, ha."

He stood up before answering the final question. "I'm alone. Mom got mangled by the math teacher this morning and my dad and sister have been away for a long time. I was actually heading to Mount Tanner to try to find them; apparently they went camping there." Jeff bent over to retrieve his rifle and brushed the dust off the wood body. "I guess I'll be up here for a while, seeing the 'crowd' down below. Or..." He checked his rifle and extra magazines and looked over at the horde below before finishing. "I could try shooting them. If I shoot well, I'll have more than enough ammo to take all those bastards and with this box of subsonic's I picked up in the store, the firing should be quiet enough from up here that I won't attract more. You game?" A grin took over Jeff's face as he moved over to the railing, not waiting for an answer, and propped his rifle on it to help with aiming.

Jenna watched the zombies shamble past her on the street towards the radio tower, making sure she didn't move a single muscle. Attracting their attention now would almost certainly be a death sentence. She didn't have many options right now, she couldn't go onto the street, the zombies would definitely see her, and she couldn't exactly go back the way she came either. Staying put was likely only going to get her into more trouble as well; there was no telling how long her chances of not being seen were going to hold. Maybe there was a way into the house she could get into without making much noise. Before she could put that plan into motion though, there was a low moan from behind her. Her head jerked around just in time to see a Zombie making a grab for her.

"God-fucking-dammit..." She almost growled. She was going to kill that prick that alerted the zombies. She rolled to the left, barely just avoiding being grabbed by the undead creature. Before it could recover, she drew the katana she carried and with her right hand and brought it down on the Zombies neck, almost taking it off in one stroke. It didn't seem to effect the zombie, however, as it lunged at her again. This time it was greeted with a mouthful of iron from her S&W in her left hand. Before it could claw or try to bite her, she pulled the trigger, putting a bullet right in the things head, blood spattering all over her coat. "Damn, this ain't gonna come out at all...

As she lamented the fact that her fur had just been ruined, it seemed her little scuffle attracted the attention of the rest of the hoard. Yep, if she got out of this alive, that guy on the tower was a dead man. If she did die, She'd come back as a ghost and haunt his ass just to make his life miserable. She took a serious stance and counted the zombies in front of her, calculating her chances.

---

Cristoph took a long drag of his cigarette. The pickup seemed in fairly good condition. The problem was the mass of zombies in the unfinished building next to it. Certainly, he was sure he could get to it from here. Doing it without alerting the horde though, was unlikely. Even if he did, starting up the engine was likely going to attract them. He was taking a gamble anyways, because if it didn't start it'd be pretty much a death trap. Either way, it was a gamble. He doubted he'd make it to the church on foot, since he got pretty lucky earlier, he almost walked right into the horde he had to go around. He sighed and spit out the butt of his cigarette, crushing it under his foot. So much for his last one.

He took his Tomcat in one hand, and made sure he was holding right, and his finger was on the trigger should he need it. Then, he bolted for the Pickup trucks door, hoping that he was fast enough to make it before the inevitable happened, and the zombies started chasing him.

Wracked with guilt, Mac took a few minutes to compose himself. But first, he looted the house they had just arrived at for new clothes to replace his robes, as he was now spattered with blood. Procuring himself a turtle neck sweater and worker's jeans, he changed, and use the little remaining water in the taps to clean off the various fluids on his face. Once cleaned up, he opened his back pack, and began to grab various cans and dried food for the journey ahead. At least he only had to gather food for one now.

It was while doing this that Mac heard a smash in the living room, and ran out of the kitchen quickly to investigate. That's when he realized with horror: Perhaps the creatures had heard the screaming... He was answered by a chorus of groans and moans, as zombies banged on the windows and crawled through the smashed remains of another, paying no heed to the glass as it tore into them. Panicking, Mac ran up the stairs, and looked out of the window, to see the house surrounded, as thirty plus of the beasts wandered over from the horde. He knelt to the ground, and uttered a pray beneath his breath: "O' most divine Lord, I trust in Your judgement, and beg Thee to guide me to safety, for You are the true One Protector, Defender of the weak and lost. I repent all, and place my faith into His loving care, Amen..."

Mac stood up, and looked out of the various windows on the second floor, as he heard the zombies clamber up the stairs. Running out of options: It was while he was in what appeared to be a nursery room that he noticed a shed a little way off from the house, just within jumping distance... Mac anxiously climbed on the window sill, crouching, as an anthro rabbit entered the room, accompanied by a few humans, growling and drooling. He took one last look at them, and took his leap of faith, just as the nearest creature grabbed for him. With a loud thud, he soared over the horde around the house, and smacked into the roof of the shed, rolling off it on the other side, and hitting the ground.

Luckily, the father was not injured, save for a few bruises, and got up as the horde turned their attention to the shed. He narrowly side stepped a zombie, running with all his might into the woods, towards the river. Forming a plan feverishly in his head, he weighed up his options: With Cindy dead, the father was sure that no one else was alive in Fairfield, save for the sinful soldiers who murdered their fellow man and women without remorse. And with the Lord's blessing, he had escaped to carry on His divine duty, to save the sinners of this world from the fate of the wicked. He needed to get through the barricades somehow, and continue to the other townships. He reached the edge of a clearing, and saw the road go in either direction, and another row of houses. Mac took this time to rest, sitting within the bushes to stay out of sight (though nothing moved in the streets), and, snacking on a nutrient bar, thought out his plan.

Spencer's Mill

Gerald, the newly met wolf listened carefully to the man's words, taking in his name, his status with other survivors, and his condition. Hearing about the man's family the wolf couldn't help but frown and avert his eyes from Jeff, his ears drooping slightly as a sign of his sadness for the man. "Wow... Sorry for the loss. Guess you don't think about the folks you lost until someone else talks about their people."

The depression state returned to a drive to stay alive though when Jeff brought up their current situation into speech. With ears perking up, the wolf nodded once more and tried to crouch down beside the man, his hand that was rummaging through his bag emerging with a Molotov cocktail. "Or.. We could use a firebomb. These things don't like to be burned to ashes but it keeps us alive." He said, smiling down at the shooter while waiting for a response.

The wolfman took a moment to survey the area while he still could, observing the church, the houses, and then the veterinary clinic down the road. He caught a horde circling around a vehicle near the construction site, but what had his attention was the one responsible for discharging a firearm. "H-hey! Over there!" He exclaimed, nearly yanking on the man's collar in order to turn him towards the conflict nearby. "Use your rifle on them crazies over there! I'll burn the jerks below us... Or do you think I should radio home for help? That might be risky..."

At the construction site, a roar could be heard inside when the doctor was spotted. Seconds later zombies started pouring out, charging the truck the survivor was in. One of the undead creatures threw himself against the passenger side door, giving the survivor a brief image of his enraged, blood covered face before the creature pulled away and began wailing on the door, trying to break in to grab the man. The others were circling around the truck, some human while others looked like bloody, fur ruffled monsters with fatal injuries that would've killed a typical man.

With all this happening around the pickup truck it was safe to say the doctor was okay if he managed to close the door. The interior looked pristine, promising a working vehicle... But only one thing will have the final say in that matter; the keys that rested in the ignition.

Marshall City
As the mechanic approached the vehicle the dead thing slowly turned it's head towards the living person, growling and snapping at him as if trying to bite a chunk out of him. It wasn't movi.g, and didn't seem to be moving any time soon... But the gurgling, moaning, and growling seemed to sound more loud and aggressive the closer the man got to a jeep. It would be only a matter of time before the sound attracted trouble if it wasn't dealt with.

Getting a good glimpse of him though showed two things: one, he was wearing a police uniform and two, one of his hands clutched to a doll, the other one having a death grip on a blood covered night stick. It was one of the sheriff's deputies, one of the many who had a family and one of the millions who were slain in the outbreak. The gunfire continued but then a inhuman screech pierced the sounds of the fight and within minutes, the sounds of guns going off ceased. It was unknown if the courthouse survived or fell against its fight against the cannibalistic zombie hordes... But something else was out there.

Fairview
The forests seemed more calm than the chaos that was in the neighborhood, aside from a few occasional lingering zombies and the small patrols that the army had deployed it seemed like everything seemed untouched by human industrialism... Despite the fact the apocalypse had hit nature was coursing its way.

The river clearing showed a huge valley created by erosion. There was a bridge to the left leading to Spencer's mill and a bridge to the right leading to Marshall city, both being guarded by guys with guns. On the bridge to Spencer's Mill there was a group of soldiers building up on the Fairview side, one of them having the features of a fox. Like the officer back in the house the fox wore a black BDU cap and no vest. They all were armed and discussing amongst each other, but they were all currently too far away for the father to hear.

Mt Tanner

The clearing revealed two hunters who were surrounded by dead bodies strewn about the field. One of them was covered in blood and had his neck torn out, no signs of life coming from him.

"Jenson.. Cmon man say something!" The living one said, giving his downed comrade a slight jerk before letting go and falling onto his butt, obviously panicking from the whole thing. "Oh my god... He's dead... We we're just coming back from out trip..." It was then he heard Ice's voice and looked up at her, seconds later the dead man sat up and lunged for the hunter, causing them to wrestle around. "Jenson?! What are you doing?!" The so called Jenson was snarling and biting at his old friend while the hunter held him back, confused from the whole thing. Out of the twelve days the zombies walked, this was his first day.

Kyle stepped back when the guy turned his head and started snapping at him. It didn't look like it was moving, thank god, but the sound it was making was sure to attract more of them. That was the last thing Kyle wanted. Carefully aiming his pistol, he put a bullet in the zombie's head. He then realised how much of a mistake that was. The sound from the gunshot was much louder than the zombie's groans, and much more likely to attract the horde. To make matters worse, the gunfire that was coming from the courthouse had stopped. Now there was nothing to distract the horde, and Kyle was out in the open with nothing but a small pistol.

He climbed into the driver's seat and started the jeep. Thankfully, it seemed to run just fine. He drove up to the auto shop, where he could see Dave through the window. The sound of grinding metal then filled the air as the garage door opened. Dave was yelling out to him. "Quick! Get in!"

Kyle drove the jeep through the door just as the army of undead appearedd. "I'm in! Now close it. Hurry!"

Dave pushed a button on the wall, and the garage door started to close again. It wasn't closing fast enough, though. At this rate, the undead would already be inside by the time it closed. Dave was the first to notice this. "Start shooting. We don't want any of them getting to us."

"Shit!" Kyle got out of the jeep, took out his pitol and started firing at the approaching horde. David did the same. They were able to keep most of the infected out, but by the time the door was fully closed, three of them managed to get inside. Two of them went for David. He easily finished both of them off with a bullet to the head. Kyle aimed his pistol at the one that was coming for him and fired, only to realise he was out of bullets. Thinking quickly, he grabbed a monkey wrench that was lying on the floor nearby, and took a swing at it. It was knocked to the ground, and one more blow to the head was enough to finish it off.

The undead outside were banging on the garage door, trying to get inside. Kyle put the wrench in his belt and opened the hood of the jeep. Everything seemed to be working. He didn't know for sure, though, since he didn't have time to check anything before David starting yelling at him. "Kyle! That won't hold them back for much longer."

He was right. The door looked like it could give any second now. Kyle put the hood back down and got into the driver's seat. Dave was already sitting in the passenger seat, and had gotten most of their supplies packed up. They waited. Getting out of the jeep to push the button was too risky. It was better to wait until the door came down.

"Honestly, I don't think about it too much. Sure, she was my mom, but we didn't get along much. Even in her dying breathes, she still nagged at me to get a job. Good old mom, I guess." Jeff said as he moved himself to bring the rifle about on the group of maybe-dead's that had left the group below them, exhibiting a behavior that was a sure-fire sign that they were going after someone. "Throw the molotov on the zeke's below as soon as I begin shooting, so that by the time I've taken the group over there down, the fire will have died down and we can safely leave. Alright?" He checked to make sure he had the box magazine he had marked with 'SS' loaded before cocking the rifle with relish and setting his aim on one of the undead near the front of the group.

Taking a breath, he had no troubles aiming as he had positioned his rifle on the railing, really only doing so for dramatic effect. Once he had the sights well lined up with the head of the enemy, he gestured to his ally before pulling the trigger.

Pft

He found himself somewhat disappointed by the sound and the feel of firing, the sound resembling a powerful air-soft rifle at most and the recoil being practically nonexistent due to the firearm being positioned on the railing and low-caliber it fired. However, these both actually helped his situation, he remarked. Around the same time, Jeff heard the shattering of the bottle and the moaning of the zeds below. A grin came to his face as the figure he had previously been targeting fall to the ground after receiving a shot to the head. "One down.. I'd say about twelve to go..." Jeff moved slightly to follow the next closest target and with a more systematic approach this time, he fired and immediately moved onto the next. Once again, the zeke fell to the ground. Again and again, they fell to the ground at an almost regular pace, with Jeff only missing a shot or two. Within moments, he had taken down most if not all of the horde that had been headed towards... whatever it was they had been heading towards.

The young man took a deep breath and wiped the sweat from his brow as he held the magazine in his hand to estimate the weight. It felt about half as heavy as before, so Jeff took the free moment to load the remaining subsonic rounds into the magazine, which he then put into his jacket pocket, replacing it with a magazine of standard-velocity rounds. "Let's head on down, see if our 'friend' that I just saved is alright. Looks like the zekes below are done burning, so we should be good. You go first." Jeff said with a grin still on his face, casually shouldering the rifle and leaning against the railing.

As Ice looked about really taking it in, her tail and ears drooped. Instinct? Or just common sense, whichever had her already wanting to go back to being lost in the woods.

As she was figuring out what had just happened to poor Jensen, the poor guy. His compatriot was in obvious shock as he started babbling to ice about their hunting trip, to which she had smiled and nodded starting to try and comfort him a tad, all she had to hear was hunting to know hes probably got a gun. Guns and being upset generally end badly for all parties...But before she could offer a word Jensen reminded both of them why this situation is so cruel!
The hunter was emotionally confused, pleading with his now rabid corpse of a friend! It became more and more obvious that he was too confused to even struggle properly, Ice narrowed her eyes. With five quick strides she had closed the distance, her sixth was to use the momentum for a rising round house! Barely missing the hunters face but hitting "Jensen" clean in the forehead! The force was enough to not only stun the ravenous undead but lift it lean of the other man. But ice had done this dance a few times she knew this wasn't done. A normal man would be counting stars right now, but not these things!
Before the creature had time to land she was already leaping up lifting a leg her right leg high enough in the air that you would have thought her a cheerleader not a prizefighter! A sudden shift and the foot may has well been a sledgehammer, the boot crushed the front of the creatures skull with a sound like a melon being split....The newly formed mushroom soup seemed to adhere to her boot when she pulled it from the redead, undead Jensen. "Yeah...Never gunna get used to that smell." Shaking her head she turned back to the panicked hunter. Forcing a sympathetic grin once again she approaches squatting next to him...The entire thing had been mere seconds, but Ice knows he may be a little less than thrilled that she just drove her boot through his zombie friends face. "Deeeeeep breaths, everything is....Sorta okay now. Now, I don't know you, I didn't know him, But I ain' trying to kill you. I am going to head that way, unless you know better. You are welcome to follow, but whatever you do, don't sit here quivering."
She waits to see his response, hopefully...more like with luck, but hope is a good word, He is rational enough to understand her.

Jenna held her Katana tightly in her right hand, and her S&W in her left. She could try running, but she wasn't likely going to get very far. She could try fighting, she was confident in her aim. She was sure she could take down at least as many as was left in the remaining gun clip. After that...well, her Katana could at least provide some protection. However, as she was calculating what was going to be her best course of action, a shot rang out and one of the Zombies fell to the ground. At first she was slightly confused, but realized that whoever was on top of that tower was probably helping. Well, no sense in running then.

She grinned and fired off a shot of her own, sending one of zombies right to the ground. She got off two more shots, dropping another and stumbling another, before the zombies had made it to her. Dodging an attack from one, she sliced its head clean off with a counter from her blade. However, she didn't see one coming up on her side. It lunged at her, and got her right on her right shoulder. Grimacing in pain, she elbowed the zombie, knocking it off of her. She quickly turned and fired another round, hitting the zombie in its shoulder before firing again and putting it down for good this time.

She turned to see most of the others were killed, probably offed by whoever was on that tower. Okay, maybe she wouldn't kill him. Just punch him in the face maybe. She took a deep breath to recollect herself, and made sure there were no more zombies around. She walked towards the street, in an attempt to greet whoever was on the top of that tower.

---

Cristoph made it inside of the pickup, just barely. One of the zombies threw itself against the passenger door, latching on to it and giving him a grizzly view of the fate that awaited him should he get killed by these things. Panting, he slammed the drivers door shut. He was safe from these things, for now, but it wouldn't be long before the undead broke the windows and attempted to either get in or drag him out. Now, he just needed the keys...where were they? After a few seconds of searching, he was relieved to find them in the ignition. He turned the keys, and the truck roared to life.

"Hah! Alright, alright...good." He shifted the truck out of park, and put it into drive. He floored the gas pedal, and smashed the zombies that were attempting to get in. One decided to be a pain in the ass however. One decided hanging onto the front of the truck was a good way to try to get him. He got up to speed, then slammed on the breaks, turning the truck hard and causing the zombie on the front to loose its grip and slide off, crushing its head under one of the tires. With the zombies gone, and the horde behind him left in the dust, he began to drive towards the church.

So, breaching the barricades... It seemed near impossible. Mac guessed the soldiers were keeping everyone in, to prevent spread of the 'infection', and laughed to hismelf. Surely they realized they could not stand in the way of God's plan? Their fear was rightly so, as they were wicked individuals themselves, afraid of the end and the damnation that awaits them. Such faithless individuals cried out for salvation, but simply would not accept it. Will was given to them so they could make these choices, after all, and perhaps the soldiers would see the error of their ways, and repent.

The father finished surveying the area, and decided to cross the river in the middle, away from their fortifications. His work was not done, and it seemed the best place to cross, if he could find a boat still sea worthy enough. But first, he needed to reach the banks. Standing up, he quickly ran across the street, and hid behind a picket fence in one house's yard. No signs of life were on the streets, save for a few animals foraging in the trash cans, deer and many small rodents walking through out the village. Cars littered the streets, smashed and burnt out from the first few hours of the panic. Occasionally, he saw a body laying on the ground, but feared to go near them. More often than not, they were not quite dead, but waiting for fools to approach, like a living bear trap.

Continuing to make his way stealthily through the streets, Mac hushed himself and hid behind a dumpster near the local convenience store, as he stumbled upon a group of soldiers. They conversed with themselves, weapons at the ready, and one in particular, a fox man and the apparent leader of this expedition, gave some orders. The men split up into a wide arc, and approached the convenience store, weapons ready. Mac cursed his bad fortune, and went around to the back of the store, away from their eyes. He removed from his backpack a screwdriver and some paper clips, and jimmied the lock open, running inside and hiding below the counter, as the soldiers smashed their way into the store and began to clear out the building.

Spencer's Mill

Gerald nodded in response to the survivor's request, shifting over to the edge and pulling out a zippo lighter out of his pockets. It took a few seconds and a few sparks to get a flame running but once it did the wolf quickly guided it to the rag that gave off an alcoholic stench, immediately causing it to catch on fire with a black trail of smoke that could easily be seen as death. "Gotcha. One barbecue comin' right up!" He exclaimed, throwing the bottle off the platform they stood on down at the horde below.

The Molotov dropped and shattered in the middle of the horde, before anyone knew it the zombies were engulfed in flames and began flailing their arms and moving wildly around, seeming to look like actual human beings being torched. It took a long minute, holding your ears up against the cries and growls they made before they fell too the floor and burnt to a crisp, leaving behind ashes and a ugly black burnt mark on the space below the tower. The wolf's head poked out to assess the damage, and without a word he was already climbing down the ladder, only tugging on the stranger while making the trip down.

By the time the girl arrived the wolf was just a few steps from planting his sneakers on the floor. Once he did he twirled around to face the fox, his ears doing a few flicks as he quickly looked over her and realized she was the one they were helping. "Whew~ What a rush!" Was all the wolf said, rubbing the back of his neck and flashing a smile at the girl before looking back up the ladder, waiting on the shooter who was probably coming down by now. The stench of burnt carrion is everywhere, and that noise was loud, the only option was to move before more trouble comes.

Church Of The Ascention

Down the road the pickup was on came a dirt path which lead to the church that he wished to investigate. The path was surrounded by trees on both sides, and everything seemed quiet aside from the fact there were a few dead zombies here and there, and there were more just wandering around in the trees. Ahead was the results of his curiosity, a church that had its surrounding brick wall lined on the top with barb wire and the gate seemed well protected by a figure too far away to be seen clearly until arrival. In front of the walls where the parking lot was rested a few cars, one of them even being a state trooper's car and another being a decent sized van. There was an evident presence, but only the figure behind the wall could be seen.

((Congrats on the discovery of an enclave! The same one you will stand beside for your survival!))

Marshall City

The closest horde approached the sound of handgun fire like the crowd of mindless staggering creatures they were. When they saw the living dinner, though, they picked up their pace, some even managing to start up a run at the door. It had fortunately already closed, but now the numbers increased dramatically from a few to probably sixteen. They were all banging and throwing themselves at the door, one of them shattering a nearby window because of it's mindless rage. At this rate the gate would go down in ten minutes, giving the duo just a quick split of breathing time to prepare their exit trip.

The banging and moaning was almost like a nightmare for even the most courageous as the numbers increased, many of them scattered the streets again because of the fact the survivors weren't detected. Those who did spot them never backed down from the garage, and over time the sound of metal creaking and whining could be heard, that door was about to give in to the pressure very soon.

Fairview post edited out I will let Kyelin run the show for now. ((I'd like Harris back later on, though ^w^))
Mt Tanner

The hunter was almost left in shock because of the encounter, the now officially dead Jenson just being a few steps away from him. He had the sense to look up at the girl who saved him, though, but from the looks of his eyes he didn't appreciate the rescue one bit. Her words were clung to like a baby to it's mother and the hunter nodded, slowly trying to stand up with a pair of trembling legs that were his own. "I-I.. Should we go to the ranger station? Head into town? Wh-.. H.. He was dead... He's dead again.. I.." He stammered and slowly scooped up a bloody hatchet from the floor and attached it to his belt, now running on just survival instead of his emotions. His who body was shaking and that could easily be seen, especially when he tried to pick up his hunting rifle which dropped right back to the floor.

This man was very weak because of his loss, it was evident he needed all the help he could get to stay alive until he mentally recovered. On the bright side, the hunting rifle was now up for grabs, but the living hunter had no signs that he possessed the ammunition... That could only mean one thing. "What's happening?"

Kyle was prepared to slam his foot down on the gas pedal as soon as the zombies got through. There seemed to be even more of them now, most likely attracted by the sound of gunfire. Although most of them seemed to lose interest after a while, some of them continued to bash at the door. They had been in there for almost ten minutes. The sounds that were coming from the door were a clear indication that it wouldn't hold for much longer.

As soon as that door came down, the sound of screeching tires filled the air. The zombies were easily pushed aside by the jeep, allowing Kyle and David an easy escape. Before long, the bridge that would take them out of Marshall City was just ahead. There was a gas station to their left. Kyle stopped, and got out of the jeep. David pulled him back in. "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm just seeing if there's any gas left here. We might need it." Kyle grabbed his pistol, reloaded it, and walked towards the gas station. "I'll only be a minute. Protect the jeep while I'm gone."