[IC] Rose Plague

[Sweet Plum]

“Isabel… Hey Isabel? Can you hear me?” called out Aunt Marie. Isabel laid in her bed, listening to her Aunt calling her from downstairs. A few moments later, there was a soft tap on her door. “Isabel? Can I come in?” Aunt Marie asked softly, sounding worried. “Sure…” Isabel said quickly. She was missing her dear mother. She hadn’t heard from her mother since she left Montana over two weeks ago. Isabel was starting to think her mother ditched her, since her mother had been acting strange right before she left. “I umm.. I think I know why you have been out of touch with your mother, darling.” Isabel sat up quickly, and looked at her Aunt. It looked like she had been crying. “Oh no…” she said softly. “Is my mom ok!?” Isabel asked quickly, getting up and hugging her Aunt. Her Aunt wrapped her arms around her niece and sighed. “I… don’t know.” she said softly.

“What do you mean… you don’t know?” Isabel asked softly. She pulled away slightly to look at her Aunts puffy eyes. “Let me show you…” Marie said softly. She released Isabel and turned around to leave the room. Isabel quickly followed her Aunt down the stairs, to hear the T.V. roaring over something chaotic. Isabel slowly stepped in front of the T.V. to see nothing but riots, people screaming and running, picture of missing people, cities burning to ashes. The breaking news was over a new disease called the Rose bacteria.

“What’s the Rose bacteria?” Isabel asked her Aunt. “I-I don’t know. The news isn’t clear about what is going on.. except to stay indoors at all times.” Marie looked over at Isabel and sighed. “Isabel…” her Aunt trailed off. “Yes?” Isabel replied softly. Marie held up a new paper, with a missing people list, for every state. Isabel quickly grabbed the newspaper, scanning for her mother’s name. Within moments, Isabel found what she had been looking for; Grace Hemingway.
“Marie…” Isabel said softly and looked up. “Are you sure that they are talking about my mom?” Marie sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “Marie.. this could be ANY Grace!” She said in a terrifying voice. “Couldn’t it?” Tears filled her eyes. She dropped the news paper and pulled her Aunt into a hug. “Please tell me its another Grace! Tell me.. please..” she begged. Marie wrapped her arms around her niece and kissed her head. “It’s not Isabel.. Its another Grace..” Marie held her close and sighed, only thinking the worse could had happened to her sister.

Moments later, they heard a thud against the front door of the house; causing both of them to jump to the noise. “Ma-marie.. what was that?” she asked, calmly. “Stay here..” Marie released Isabel and slowly made it to the front door. There was another thud against the door. Marie quickly grabbed the baseball bat that was near the front door and held onto it. “Wh-who’s there!?” She yelled at the door. “God damn women! Opening the fucking door! Its your husba—” called out from Uncle Bobby. Coughing was coming from behind the door. “Bob honey.. are you ok?” she called out. “Women, open the fucking door or so help me I will do it myself!” Yelled back Bobby.

“Marie.. something doesn’t sound right about Uncle Bobby! He never calls you names!” Isabel said from the hallway. “Bob, calm down.. whats wrong?” Marie asked once again. At that moment, there was another thud against the door. “Le-let me..” coughing, “in!!!”. More coughing came from Uncle Bobby. A softer thud came from the door, before the coughing stopped. “Honey?” Marie called out to Bob.

A few moments later, there was a huge crashing sound from the back sliding glass door. Uncle Bobby had thrown a stone against the sliding glass door, to get in. Isabel jumped when she heard the sounds of the glass breaking. She ran towards her Aunt, to see her Aunt looking horrified. When Isabel turned around, she saw her Uncle was covered in red boils. Huge red boils, nearly the size of baseballs. “Isabel, run… RUN!” Marie opened the front door and shoved her outside and slammed the door shut. Isabel ran back to the front door and began to pound on the door. “NOOO! MARIE! NOOOOO!” she screamed.

Too be continued…

[flightless-angel-castiel]

(Hope this is okay. If I need to change anything, I will~)

Joanna Matthews let out an impatient sigh as she smashed her thumb down on the 'End Call' button of her smart phone. Stupid phone and man. He wasn't answering his phone and it was worrying the hell out of her. He was supposed to be home by now. Maybe she was overreacting. That was a possibility. But since that strange infection started spreading and the news started to report it... it just worried her when he didn't get home at the usual time, especially with this supposed disease going around. She sat down at the breakfast bar in their tiny apartment, holding the phone between her hands as her leg bounced up and down. Traffic was probably bad, right? This was Dallas and it was the typical time for a lot of people to get off work. And a lot of them were probably heading home because of what was happening. She tried to reason with herself as she set her phone down. She didn't need to panic. There was no reason at all too. She was just overreacting. He was okay. He had to be. She got up, making herself a glass of sweet tea, and taking a sip. The taste of the drink didn't help her nerves.

Right as she was reaching for her phone to try and call him again, there was a loud bang on the door. It made her gasp and jump at once, sweat tea sloshing over the edge of the glass and getting on her hands. "Damnit," she muttered to herself, setting the glass down and shaking the wetness off her hand. That would become sticky and she hated that feeling. Another bang that made her jump and she frowned, walking over to the door. She peered through the peep hole and gasped, eyes widening. Was that...? No. She ripped the chain off, having some difficult since her fingers were shaky, and undid the deadbolt. She threw the door open, heart fixing itself in her throat and pounding loudly. "Dalton?" she said as said man stumbled forward, falling into her arms. "Oh my God, Dalton! What's wrong?!" Joanna asked frantically, trying to support his weight as she slipped her arms under his.

She heard muffled groaning and incoherent words against her shoulder and she fell to her knees, not being able to support Dalton's weight for much longer. Her stomach did a twist when she felt something round against her hand, where it laid on his back. "Hey!" she said, grabbing his shoulders and shoving him back to look at him proper. He swayed backwards, head lolling back, and Joanna let out a choked noise of surprise and fear at how her fiancé looked. His face was red, sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead from how heavily sweating he was. He looked to be in pain and almost angry but that wasn't what caught Joanna's attention. There was a giant, red bump on the side of his neck, practically pulsing. A boil, she realized in horror. There were more, under his clothing; they were huge, frighteningly so, and another was forming on his cheek.

Out of fear and confusion, she let him go and scrambled back, her breath coming out fast. What was wrong with him? What were those boils on his body? They were so frightening to look at, so horrifying. They looked ready to burst and that scared her a lot. She felt her back run into the side of the breakfast bar and shakily, she reached up and gripped the edge, pulling herself up. "Da-Dalton?" she uttered, not exactly sure what to do. Fear was making it hard to think and her vision became blurry, as she thought about the news reports about some disease going around. They weren't giving much away about it, only saying to stay indoors. It had to be bad. Could Dalton have that? The thought sent her into a whirlwind of worry and fear and sadness.

"Joey," Dalton gritted out, body shaking as he fell forward onto his hands. "What's... happ- hurts." he gasped, back arching and Joanna could make out a few, fist-sized boils growing in size on his back through his t-shirt.

It was one of the most scariest and disgusting things she had ever seen. Even worse when she had seen her daddy break her momma's arm, heard the crack of bone and the sob of woman. But hearing Dalton's voice, in so much pain and helplessness. It propelled her forward. She pushed away from the breakfast bar and fell before Dalton, grabbing at his shoulders. "Hey, hey, you're gonna be all right! Let's get ya to the hospital, get ya help-"

"No!" Dalton snapped out, right hand reaching up to grip Joanna's arm, right above her elbow. He looked up at her, the boil on his cheek still small, but his eyes were beginning to look bloodshot, a shocking color against the white of his blue eyes.

Joanna's breath caught in her throat and she stared at him, fingers squeezing his shoulders briefly. "Dalton, you're hurtin' me," she said, her voice only slightly shaking. She was trying to remain calm. She couldn't panic right now, that would only make this worse. Instead of loosening, the grip became tighter and she took a deep, shaky breath. "Dalton. Let. Go." she said slowly, shaking her arm lightly.

Suddenly, she was forced onto her feet and if it wasn't for Dalton's iron grip, she would have tripped when she was made to walk backwards. She gritted her teeth when her lower back slammed into the side of the breakfast bar, the corner digging painfully into her side. "Dalton, stop!" she yelled, her free hand coming up to shove at his chest.

She felt something much like a growl vibrate through his chest and her heart skipped a beat as his other hand came up to grab at that arm. "No Dalton!" she struggled, fear and panic choking her as she tried to break loose. For one second, his fingers loosened, briefly, as if he realized what he was doing. But Joanna took it as her moment to break free. She broke her arms away and shoved at him as hard as she could. It worked because he stumbled backwards, anger twisting his features into something ugly. She backed away into the kitchen, feeling like she couldn't breath, like her lungs weren't dragging in enough air. The large boil on his neck was pulsing, literally moving, looking to burst. She could make out similar boils underneath his clothing, a few straining against his jeans. "Dalton, stop," she said shakily as he began to walk at her. She glanced at the knife block and, out of choking fear, snatched a knife up and pointed it at him. He had never touched her in such a harsh way and he looked so angry. "Stop!"

"Shut up!" he yelled, reaching for her. Joanna reacted, slicing the knife at his arm. The blade cut cleanly into his inner arm, right over a boil. She cried out as it burst out and this... disgusting stuff spewed out. It nearly landed on her but she managed to jump back in time as it coated some of the kitchen counter, stove and wall. Instead of being in pain like Joanna expected, Dalton yelled out in pure rage.

The boils pulsed, moved, and more were forming, growing, beginning to cover his face too. With a cry, Joanna watched as another burst open, this one on his side and beneath his shirt, coating the fabric with the disgusting stuff on the inside, and blood as well. Dalton's whole body jerked, this time crying out in pain, as another boil burst, this one on his leg. Joanna backed away, dropping the knife. The knife clattered against the tile of the kitchen and she gripped the breakfast bar so she wouldn't fall from how hard her knees were shaking. "Dalton?!" she cried, not sure what to do.

Dalton hunched forward, body shaking as a boil on the back of his neck burst open, coating the ceiling and most of the kitchen behind him in that disgusting stuff. Joanna's stomach twisted and she covered her mouth as she gagged. Oh God, the smell. It hit her like a train and it was horrible, making her vision blur more as she tried to not throw up the food she had ate that day. In a sudden realization, she realized Dalton was exploding. He was exploding from those boils and they were bursting closer and closer together and that meant... Dalton looked up, boils growing and pulsing on his face, and groaned in pain. "Joey..." he whispered as the boils grew even larger, a few beginning to leak.
Joanna fell to her knees, no longer being able to hold herself up, and dragged herself to the other side of the breakfast bar. She knocked a chair down as she hid underneath it, hot tears dripping down her cheeks. She didn't know what to do, she couldn't help him. She was weak, she couldn't do anything, she was as helpless as Dalton. She flinched and covered her ears as a pained scream filled the apartment. She heard muffled thuds and pressed her lips together to try and not make any noise, pressing her palms harder to her ears. She wasn't sure how long she sat there but eventually, her legs started to ache and she slowly unfolded herself.

Uncovering her ears, she sniffled and took a deep breath. "Dalton?" she called out and got no answer. Slowly, she got on her hands and knees and moved to the side of the breakfast bar. She peered around and gaped as she saw that disgusting stuff and blood coating the kitchen floor, reaching all the way to their bedroom door. She swallowed and made herself move forward, stopping once she reached the mess of stomach-twisting disgustingness. With a deep breath, she leaned forward and peered around the corner. "Dalton?" she whispered and gasped at the sight she saw. Dalton was laying there but there was that stuff and blood all around him, covering every inch that it could reach, and there were these strange-shaped scars coating his body. When the boils had been exploding, some of his clothing got ripped away and she saw more of those scars, through the layer of stuff and blood. "Oh my God," she said; he had landed on his back and his chest wasn't moving up and down. He wasn't breathing.

"No, no," she uttered, getting on her knees and moving forward, causing streaks in the mess on the floor. "Dalton, Dalton!" she called, laying her hands on his chest. It wasn't moving, oh God, it wasn't raising and falling. "No, Dalton, wake up, ya bastard!" she snapped, putting her ear above his mouth. Nothing. No brush of breath he should be exhaling. "No, don't do this to me, don't," she whispered, slamming her fist into his chest. She wasn't a doctor, not even a nurse. She didn't know what to do. She knew she should be calling 911 but she felt like she couldn't move, in such shock. "Please," she whispered, beating on his chest but he didn't open his eyes, didn't move. She couldn't hold back the sobs bursting from her mouth, her whole body shaking from them, fingers gripping into the remains of his shirt. She didn't even care about all the nasty stuff. "Dalton!" she screamed before falling forward, her body wrecked with sobs. This was so unreal, this couldn't had happened. Just this morning, he was smiling and okay, breathing and warm. Now he was still, dead and cold, just in a few hours. With much difficulty, she pulled herself away from him and got her phone to call 911; maybe it wasn't too late. She knew it was a stupid hope but maybe... just maybe... it wasn't too late.

[Dioxide]

It was a bright morning over the To household. The Sun shone it rays through a clear sky and its beams shimmered and reflected on the white tiling roof of the two floored house. The light pierced through the papery shutters of the bedroom window where the twins slept. At the same time, the alarm sounded off, blaring its terrible noise between the beds of Allie and Millie. Allie was the first to wake.

Allie rose her hand out of her blankets like she were crawling out of her grave, and reached to turn off the alarm, tapping it hard with a fist. The only light in their room came from their window, and it was adjacent to Millie’s side. So when Allie turned her head to face her, she winced and her eyes became teary at the sudden change of brightness.

A: “It’s 7… wake up…”

No response from Millie. Allie could make out the sleeping position she slept in under the sheets. The rises and falls of the sheet and the shadows formed from the light showed a contorted shape bent at different angles. Millie enjoyed sleeping like she were a knot to be loosened by others in the near afternoon.

A: “Come on Millie…”

Again, there was no response. Allie looked at the table top between the two and observed the date through her blurred vision. Sunday… she believed. Even she, the studious and hardworking one, couldn’t believe she set the time for them to wake up at 7 on a Sunday. They weren’t so much permitted to sleep in; they were more excused to do so. So why did she have to do it? Allie blinked hard and slowly, her eyelids closing and opening every five seconds to savour the moment.

Oh, she thought, she remembered. They had a guest coming. No idea who it was but it was important.

A: “Come on, Millie. Wake up.”

Millie groaned in sleepy anger. She shifted only slightly in response to Allie. Allie had since fully woken, and kicked her legs out and planted them on the carpeted floor, her body now turned to Millie’s bed. Allie reached for her pillow and attempted to hit Millie’s butt to get her to move.

A: “Millie~ Millie~~ Millie~~~~” she toying with her name as she swung and hit her harder.

M: “If this is the game you want to play, then so be it,” she silently spoke with a purposed husky voice.

Allie turned back to look at the clock: 7:05

A: “I’m not playing around. Just get up an-“ she was caught off when a pillow met her face hard, knocking her back to her bed. She bounced on her spring bed, and amidst bounce she firmed her body which caused the bouncing to subside. She had faced the ceiling, but then spotted a figure high above her. It was Millie standing on her bed, and she had a pillow in her hands.

Millie pounced onto her and Allie screamed. Millie battered her with hits from her pillow, and Allie covered her face with her arms.

A: “Get off me!”

Millie mimicked her words in a whiny tone.

A: “I said get off!” Allie reached for Millie’s sides and tickled her, causing her to laugh hysterically and lose control. In the next second, the two were on the floor fighting it out. They were laughing and groaning at the same time – the mark of a good relationship between the twins.

Suddenly from down below, their father yelled: “Girls! Allison! Millison! Stop that and go take a shower, Now!”

Allie was on top, so she raced off to the hallway where the bathroom was two doors ahead on the left side. Millie simply got back to bed, sleeping the few extra minutes she had before it was her turn.

---

The two were dressing up in their room. It had always been like this since they were young, living together in one room, so there was no secrecy between them. They know each other’s stories, secrets, love lives, and bodies for that matter. They sat on their own corner tables where they both had their own mirrors and drawers to arrange themselves. Both Allison and Millison had short hair that extended no further than their chins, so grooming themselves didn’t take long at all. If it weren’t for the style of clothing that the sisters differed on, there would be no way of discerning the two apart; Allison enjoyed wearing smart and casual clothes and donned jeans almost all the time, whereas Millison loved to be trendy and colourful, away from dull colours. But since they were not going anywhere for the time-being they were both wearing sweatpants and tank-tops, Allie white and Millie black.

Millie went over to Allie’s corner and she looked at herself, her head right next to Allie’s.

A: “I love you, sis.”

M: “Gross.”

A: “Bleh,” she stuck her tongue out.

It was 8:45 am when their mom entered their room unannounced.

“Girls, try to behave when our guests arrive,” she caught them looking at her back at the mirror. She walked over to them and hugged them dearly.

“You two are so beautiful.”

The twins kissed their mom’s cheeks.

---

The family of four were seated in the expansive dining table. The father sat in front of the fireplace, the mother opposite and the two on the remaining two spots on the quadrilateral table. The father was a politician, and a good one at it, in their state of Oklahoma. He was a retainable law attorney for a while before he’d risen to the challenge set by himself, and went for politics during his early years just before 30. It was during one of his many internship experiences that he met the love of his life. Long story short, they happily got married and the wife gave birth to twins. The new parents were not generation zero and therefore did not hold many of the traditions of the typical new Chinese immigrant. Instead, values were emphases on a combination of vigour, intellect and peace and harmony. They felt more one with nature and the To family basically upheld beliefs of being in touch with life, exemplifying their atheism, eco-friendliness and regular participations in charity. The twins never disobeyed and they never saw a reason to. They were well of for what it’s worth but they were down to earth and not spoilt. They lived a good life.

They were eating their breakfast, the man of the family with just a coffee in front of him, now cold what with him being particularly occupied with the newspaper.

The mother saw through the first page and saw the news discussing the concerns of a possible epidemic.

“Hon, what is that Rose Plague people are on about?”

M: “Yeah dad. I’m getting worried,” she said as she caught eyes with Allie who was also concerned.

A: “It’s apparently a sort of bacteria and it’s infectious. But there’s not much known about it.”

The father’s bellowing voice echoed the room: “It’s getting serious, actually. Not only that, there’s been social unrest. People are running amok looting and causing crime.”

A: “Then why haven’t we been seeing any of it here in Oklahoma?”

The father replied: “Because the infection hasn’t necessarily reached an obvious point here yet. But you have seen it. Haven’t you noticed our neighbourhood has gone quiet recently? I asked around and they’re sick, apparently.”

The mother replied: “Oh my,” shock and despair on her face.

M: “What are we going to do?”

The father was about to reply when the doorbell rang, exactly at 9 am.

“That’s what we’re going to do.”

---

The father introduced the tall, large man into the house. Allison and Millison were tall for their Asian descent, standing at 6’1”, possibly to genetics long in the family tree. The twins towered their parents by 5 inches but this man was gigantic and towered over the girls.

The man stood at where he stopped just a few steps after entering. The Tos gathered before the staircase. Millie sat on one of the steps and Allie leaned against the wall.

“Allow me to introduce myself. I am Leon Canawak. I have been appointed to your father as your protector and guardian for the sake of this trip. I suppose you have all heard about the Rose Plague. I can assure you that the federal government and the military are all taking control of the situation and they will endeavour to fix all this.”

He paused to allow the family to take in what he said.

“However, Since the government of Oklahoma has considered your father a great asset to the political system of both the state and the United States, we have sought to take the initiative and protect the whole family. We value your father’s work and therefore we value you,” the last sentence he projected to the three women of the family.

He continued, “I personally prepared the vehicle and some essentials for you all to stay at a military camp a few cities ahead. There you will be protected under the view of the military in Jefferson County.”

Allie interrupted “That far away?! It’ll take days!”

“Yes,” Leon replied, “The military camp near the north is busier and cannot take in political figures or anyone. However, the one in Jefferson recognizes your father’s status and therefore will protect him. We will leave as soon as possible so I will need everyone to pack your belongings. Bring a supple amount of clothing. We will leave this house for a while.”

The whole family walked up the stairs to their respective rooms. The twins gathered their things in their suitcases and backpacks and met up with the parents who had obviously prepared for this earlier than they did.

The family and Leon exited the house. The twins walked ahead, both looking back at the beauty of their house. They watched as the parents and the giant lock the door and walked to them at the van. They all got in and set on, right at 10:30 am.

---

The roads were quiet around the first few hours of travelling. No restroom breaks were needed, and they carried on their way for the next few. Then the traffic began to be obvious and there were people yelling and running, tugging along their belongings. They all seemed to be converging to the same direction: South.

M: “Looks like everybody got the same idea.”

Canawak replied: “Don’t worry. Unlike them we have privileges to enter the military camp.”
A: “But it’s so strange and sad. If it’s this bad, why isn’t the military doing more to save them?” the sadness obvious in her tone, looking down at the people and ahead, seeing the four-way intersection and a car up ahead that exploded.

The girls screamed, and the father in the seat next to Canawak flinched, looking at him, expecting him to do more than just sit idly.

“Hold on,” as he attempted to drive around the cars that were now swerving and crashing into one another. People’s screams were gut-wrenchingly loud, but they were drowned out by cascading explosions set off by a chain reaction for the previous one.

“Get us out of here! We need t- Look out!” the father yelled as a car had lost control and collided with the side of their van. The van flew away to the right violently and landed upright but the van was utterly destroyed and immobilized.

Leon Canawak was dead in his seat, head bleeding profusely on the steering wheel. The parents were not moving but were groaning in pain. The twins, remarkably, were okay with just a few scratches. The mother, unconscious, was in between the two girls.

Millie looked around the van, and inquired loudly: “Everyone okay?”

Allie was going to reply, but she choked on her words as she screamed in shock when her side of the door was opened. Millie violently turned her head to see that a man was grabbing Allie by the hair, reaching down to unbuckle her seatbelt and drag her out. Millie unbuckled hers and tried to scoot over to open door when her door was opened and she too was dragged out.

Two large, grotesque looking men with pistols and grungy, dirty clothing stood next to each other in front of the twins who were dragged across the street and thrown to the ground. They were laughing and making suggestive gestures at the two girls.

“Looks like we got ourselves some prizes; Fresh Pussayyyyyyyyy,” they laughed boastfully, sauntering towards Allie and Millie.

M: “Get away, you fuckers!” she shot straight up and kicked one of the men in the knee, which brought him down. But she was too slow and she found arms wrapped around her by the other male.

Allie stood up and sank her nails into the man’s arm, which was responded with a backhand, enough time for the other man to climb on top of her.

M: “Allie! No! Get away from her, you fu-“ her sentence stopped when the man covered her mouth.

“Hush little pussayy. You’re going to enjoy this no worryyy,” he said to his ear, Allie’s scream very audible as her mouth was, too, covered by the other man’s hand.

Suddenly, a pistol shot sounded, and the grip around Millie had loosened. A second round was shot into the head of the man atop Allie. The two men fell to the ground and Millie rushed to help Allie. The father leaned weakly to the hood of the van, the pistol Allie thought must have come from Leon.

“Help me get your mother,” he pointed at the door.

The twins rushed to the door and tried to pull out their mother when a horrible scream was heard. Millie and Allie both looked up to see that there was a horrible, vile-looking creature biting into their father’s neck. Blood shot out like a spout, and the two ran at the figure when they saw another horrible looking disfigured thing sprinting towards them.

Allie took one second to look at their mom that they needed to save when a third creature was already in the car, practically feasting on her.

Allie wanted to scream, but Millie pulled her away and the two ran away from the streets into the alleyways, where they crossed several more roads before they had nowhere to run.

M: “Come on! In here!”

They ran towards an apartment complex, the two running up the stairs to the top floor. Many doors were left open and ajar, a sign of people rushing out immediately. They ran inside one of the room and closed the door loudly. None of those things managed to follow them but there was no way of knowing whether they were safe.

A: “What the fuck!? What the fuck!!??”

M: “Shut up shut up shut up!”

Allie was crying on the side of the bed, and Millie knelt down to her knees, and gripped Allie’s arms and shook her.

A: “What were those things!? What about mom and dad!?”

M: “I don’t know! I don’t know!”

They knew exactly what happened to their parents, but neither decided to speak of it.

M: “Let’s not make too much noise. I don’t know if we’re safe or not.”

A: “We’re going to die…”

M: “No! Don’t say that… We’ll make it… together.”

Allie said nothing, but looked into Millie’s eyes, her forehead rested on hers.

They hugged each other intently and cried silently. It was 5:54 pm.

They have been on the move ever since.

[Sweet Plum]

Roberts Part:
“Hey umm.. Robert?” called a female voice from down the hallway. Robert was in his computer room, typing the last bit of things for the important meeting Dr. Pepper was holding the next morning. “Ya, be there in a few minutes darling!” he called out as he was typing the letter. It had to be finished before that night, so the boss could read it. It was very important that the meeting went through, because that means Dr. Pepper would had expanded with our companies. “Robert… I need help!” called the female again, but with a stern voice. Robert rolled his eyes and pushed himself away from the desk and slowly made his way down the hallway. He walked past his sons room, looking in to see him still sleeping. Robert continued into his room, to see the bathroom light on. He walked to the frame of the door and leaned in. His wife was in the shower.
“Yes Anna?” Robert said softly to her. “Robert, it hurts.” he pushed himself from the door frame and slightly turned his head. “What hurts?” he asked confused. “It hurts! Everywhere! Robert.. please..” Robert quickly get to the shower and pulled the curtain over, to see his wife laying in the bath tub, rubbing all over her body. He gasped when he saw what had started to grow on her body. “Anna!” he said softly as he kneeled down and grabbed her hand. “What happened!?” he asked quickly. He ran his hand over one of the boils that was growing on her arm. He could feel the thin layer of skin ready to bust open in any moment. “Oh no..” He stood up and looked around. “Anna.. stay here.. I will get you some help!” he said, running out of the bathroom. He jogged to his office, and picked up the phone to dial 911. When he hit the talk button, nothing happened. He hung up the call and dialed again.. nothing.
Robert slammed the phone down and leaned over his desk, wondering how she had gotten.. it. He made sure that his job a loud them both to stay home with this disease ran wild across the states. He turned around, leaning against his desk, he closed his eyes and sighed, trying to figure out what to do. “Mo-mommy?” Robert heard from down the hallway. Before he could process what his son had just said, there was a bloody scream from his only son. Robert pushed himself away from the desk, causing his desk to tip over. He ran out of his room to see a trail of blood leading into his son’s room. Robert quickly made his way to the door entrance to see his wife tearing into their son.
Some of the boils on her skin had already ruptured, forming what looked to be roses on her body. His saw his saw reaching out to him, saying nothing. Robert grabbed a baseball bat that was near the door and swung it at his wife. He kept hitting her till she released Vince. She stood up, eyes blood shot, and breathing hard. She started at him, causing Robert to swing again, but this time at her head. There was a slight yelp from her before she hit the ground, motionless. Robert looked at his wife, dropping the bat next to him. He stood there for a moment before looking at his son, who looked like he was trying to hold on to what life he had left.
His wife had bit into his neck, causing him to bleed out. Parts of his shoulders were missing, his cheek had been chewed into. Robert went over to his son and pulled him into his arms, holding him tightly against his chest. Biting his lip and closing his eyes, he whispered “I love you son…”, causing the tears to flood out. His son pulled away slightly, start to gasp for air. Vince raised his hand slowly, placing it onto his father’s cheek, and smiling. He nodded to his father’s reply. Robert placed his hand over his sons and closed his eyes, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
Within a few moments, Vince’s hand went motionless. Robert let out a soft cry, pulling his son closer to him. He wrapped both of his arms around him and began to cry. He just lost everything that he loved in a single night. Both of which he had to watch pass away. Robert reached over to his wife’s hand and grabbed it, crying a little harder. He pulled Vince away and laid him on the ground in front of him, looking back at his hands. He closed his eyes, hoping all of it was a dream. He opened his eyes back open to see the horror that had just happened.
Robert pulled himself into a standing position, grabbing the baseball bat and walking out of the room, closing the door behind him. He walked into his room, tossing the bat next to the door, and looking around. Robert noticed something on his wife’s night stand. Robert walked over to the stand, to see a written letter, with a picture of them two. Roberts eyes began to fill again.. she knew she was turning. He reached down and grabbed the letter and picture. He tucked it into his back pocket, and went into the bathroom. He walked in front of the mirror, only to see his shirt, face and hands was covered in blood. He turned the water faucet on and began to wash all the blood from his arms and face.

[Sweet Plum]

“Marie!” she cried out once again when she heard her Aunt screaming. There was a lot of shuffling going on within the house. “Mariiieeee!” she screamed at the door. She banged her fist against the door, jingling the handle with force. “Marie!” she screamed again. When she screamed her name last, everything in the house went silent. Isabel stopped for a split moment, and realized the back door had been knocked out. Isabel pushed herself from the door, and running as fast as she could around the house. She pushed open the gated fence and pushing past all the weeds in the backyard. She ran straight into the glass door, only to see a horror show within the house. Blood was everywhere. Isabel stood frozen in front of the glass door, scared. She heard some slight shuffling from within. “Ma-marie?” She called out into the house. Isabel heard a slight sharp gasp coming from within.

Isabel stepped into the house, breaking some on the glass with her shoes. “Marie?” she called out. As she continued into the house, the glass shuffling against the floor slowly to fade away, till she could hear the squeaking of her shoes. She walked into the hallway with all the blood, and saw that the blood had lead upstairs. Isabel turned her back against the front door and looked around. She noticed that the weapon her aunt had used was tossed to the side. “Marie!” she screamed, running up the stairs. She followed the trail of blood to the master bedroom.

There she saw her uncles body on the ground motionless, and unrecognizable. The boils had busted open, causing the worse smell. Isabel covered her face almost instantly. She looked around, and noticed her aunt on her bed. Isabel rushed over to her, pulling her aunt into her arms. “Marie?” She asked, as she turned to see half of her face gone. Trying not to make any sudden faces towards her aunt, she hugged her. “Marie!” she cried out! “Darling.. run.. run somewhere safe!” her aunt cried out, before the last bit of air escaped her lungs.

Isabel released her aunt, looking around. Not sure where to do, Isabel just ran from the room, and down the stairs. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she stopped and fell to her knees, crying. What was happening, and what was she going to do? She wiped her tears, standing back up and slowly making her way back to the back door. She turned for a moment to look at the TV, and noticed that it went blank. She walked out of the house, and into yard, unsure where to go from that point.

Isabel looked around, taking in the fresh air. Wind blowing in her hair, and the sun beaming down against her skin. She wiped the remaining tears from her face and began to jog out of the yard. Isabel remembered that there was a police station a few blocks from her aunt’s house, and was sure that someone there could help.

As she slowly jogged, she noticed the streets were quite. Ridiculously quite. Hardly any cars, people walking around, and the bird were gone. She stayed within the yards of houses, to ensure nothing saw her, or she saw something.. else. After a short time of nothing, she reached the police station. Yet, there was no cars of any sort. When she walked up to the building, the front door had been kicked in, papers everywhere, and no one in site. She stepped into the building, looking around for any useful items.

~To Be Continued for Roberts Part

[FiroIV]

Holland “Holly” Rice was in a state of disarray. It’s been some a days since things went from bad to worse, and there was no sign of things getting better. She’d been hiding inside a rather large house since two days ago when she found it. As a general rule she made sure that wherever she went she would be close to the highways or a public road, but not too close, avoid residential and public areas as much as possible, and if it can’t be helped then hide in a forest. In the event that she had to hide away somewhere then make sure that the safehouse is fenced, secluded, and most importantly secure. There were a lot of other rules that she learned and made for survival, the rules were made just for her and another person since that’s how it was, but she was beginning to worry for her own health.

The house she was staying in was less of a house and more of a ranch. It was fenced, and, most likely belonged to a rich family as evidenced by the large pool, outlandish interior design, a four car garage independent form the main house, a boat house, a storage house, and the general amount of space that the building occupied. The residents or other survivors had already emptied the place of food and just about anything, necessary for survival, but that wasn’t much of a problem since she could take care of herself just fine. Supplies aside, it was a good safe house, it could have been great but the lack of food was going to make things troublesome in the long run, but the nearby field and the fruit trees could solve that problem once she got working on it. She didn’t want to stay though since it was doing for her peace of mind.
There were many reasons why she didn’t want to stay in one area for long, the first being that nothing good would ever come out of it, the second reason is that if she was to stay in one area for too long it would eventually attract people. These two reasons would lead to various complications that came to any society. The worst outcome being murder. The last time she’d been with more than two people someone got hurt when someone voiced a different opinion.

To be perfectly honest she did want to stay. The place was perfect after all. A large part of her hated it though since it was peaceful, quiet, and boring. Being bored leads to thinking and that’s not something she wanted to do. In times of grief, the worst thing to do was think about the past. That was something she heard from her dad many times in the past. “Don’t dwell on things you can’t change.” He would teach to her. She hated that saying before since it sounded real preachy and now she hated herself for not being able to follow it. She needed to get out of this house even if it was that great.

The house she picked passed all the standard tests that she used for picking safe houses with flying colors no less. Not only was it perfect it was also isolated, had its own large tank of water, a generator that ran on fuel which there was a lot of, an outhouse, a storage house by the lake, a guest house, and lot’s of space in and out of the house. There were a few houses nearby, but they were also relatively isolated each with their own fences and large open spaces. There also areas for farming animals and the land was good to so it should be easy enough to live in this place and not be bothered by anyone so long as she managed to set things up by herself. There was also a small airfield and hospital nearby according to her map so anything troublesome should occur she could easily scavenger those places. Staying in this place was the most logical thing to do. She was not being logical. There was also the matter of her uncle and cousins so that’s one logical reason for her to leave this paradise.

[Dioxide]

Allie opened her eyes and it was a crisp 8 in the morning. She sat up and she blinked for her blurry vision to subside. She rubbed her eyes and yawned, arms stretched out and she slapped her bed sheets. She turned and saw Millie, typical of her to still be asleep after the alarm sounded. She was coiled up again, and Allie knew she was going to have to wake up her again. She launched herself into Millie’s bed, and Millie found air-time as she too was launched into the air from the bounce of the spring mattress.

Allie heard Millie grunt midst air and she hugged her other twin hard. Allie had no idea why she was particularly happy today but she was in a good mood. She had no memory of any important plans for the day and she saw no real reason to hug her dear sister other than just sibling love.

A: “Come on, fatass!”

She sped off downstairs. The parents were always there before them, always busy doing something, and always patiently waited for the girls. The fragrant newly-cooked breakfast, the scent of dad’s strong coffee, the quaint aroma of the newspapers piled on the tabletop, they perfumed the hallway to the dining room. It has always been like this since the two sisters were born. There were no real arguments or bad memories to stain the peace and sanctity of the stronghold that housed the To family.

However, she turned the corner of the doorway, and saw no one there. Though this was not impossible, it proved worrisome for the light-hearted Allison. She yelled out at the ceiling where their rooms would be:

A: “Mom? Dad? Where are you?”

She ran back upstairs, passing her room to her parents’. She knocked silently and whispered

A:”Mom…? Dad…? You in there…?”

The door was ajar, and her knock pushed it further open. Then she recognized a familiar smell that didn’t belong – the smell of blood. She pushed the door all the way in and she choked on her breath to scream. There laid her parents, their faces and bodies mutilated and bloody. Allie would not and could not have known they were her parents save the fact that the unrecognizable cadavers were laid and posed as a loving couple hugging one another, as if to savour their last breathing moment before it was taken away.

She continued choking. She wanted to cry, and she wanted to scream. She didn’t know what to do as she collapsed to the floor. The house was silent and Allie’s muffled cries were loud and resonating in the echoic rooms. Then Allie heard footsteps. Millie.

A: “Millie…? Millie!? Millie!”

She baby-crawled out to the hallway to meet Millie, only to be shocked that she, too, was horrible disfigured and gruesome.

A:”Millie… No…”

Allie tried to crawl backwards, her watery eyes obscuring the bloody mass that lurched and ravenously jumped at her.

The back of Allie’s head met the floor hard as she closed her eyes.

When they opened, she saw the open road ahead of her. It was a ghoulish dream. They were on Highway 35.

---

Millie had found them a car just luckily the same day they were attacked – the same day their parents died.

The apartment complex they stayed in had a garage, and though everyone was desperate for escape and surviving, there were still parked cars. Ominously there were signs of fights and stains of blood pooled the whole area. The twins gathered what they could in their piteous backpacks. They didn’t garner much. They got in and drove out. Their knowledge of geography was terrible, and both Allie and Millie were still taking driving lessons. Their only plan was to head to the same direction their guard Leon had been taking: South.

It was a sad sight. Millie took to drive first; she had the clearest mind of both. Allie was still distraught after what just happened and she was still crying at the back. Millie had to drive them both out of the city. As Millie drove, she saw families being separated by crowds and obstacles, all the while these… things… were clawing, gnawing and sprinting at anything that moved. It was a horrid sight, and Millie disciplined herself to keep looking forward, minding the roads and keeping them safe.

It was a dreary, monotonous drive along the highway 35. The entire road screamed with military vehicles flashing by on the other lane. On Millie’s lane however, there were only so few cars. She assumed the infection had either not spread that far enough of … or it did and barely anyone made it out.

Millie caught Allie sleeping next to her. She was jealous. She too wanted to sleep, and not take it for granted. She looked at her intently, and upon seeing the necklace their parents gave them on the day of their birth, she started to tear up. She already missed her parents. Millie turned her attention back to the road just in time to swerve the car away from a fiery carcass of a police car.

Allie woke up.

It was 6:30 pm.

---

By 7 pm they could see the horizon of Jefferson County. They could easily see military presence. The traffic was monstrous and it stayed to a standstill. They were stuck in a sea of cars, right in the middle of the lane, which seemed to have materialized out of nowhere. Helicopters whizzed towards the county and Allie and Millie both thought that that did not bode well. There was something in the air that seemed as though something was wrong and as Millie tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, Allie gasped. Allie and Millie both watched the people who seemed to be running away from something. Allie turned around while Millie looked at her mirrors to see people just running, and bright floodlights glared at their faces. The wild yelling and wolf-whistling added to the figures standing, hanging by the side of the moving object towards them. Allie’s eyes adjusted just enough to see the sharp contours and blocky, tan metallic being that was climbing over the cars.

A: “Is that… “

M: “That’s a fucking tank.”

They both stared at the tank crushing the vehicles, both dumbfounded as to how those people got their hands on it when Allie jolted Millie to get them out of its rampaging way.

They essentially hauled ass out of the car doors. They fought through a crowd and went in the same direction. But Allie knew they were not going outrun a military vehicle that reached 40 kilometers per hour. Allie pulled Millie out of the highway and into the open land.

Allie, on her feet, ran in the opposite direction of the tank. Millie followed suit, yelling her name, and eventually caught up and grabbed her arm.

M: “What are you doing!? We need to go!”

A: “The tank is in the middle of the lane. There are bound to be cars working and abandoned! We can get in!”

Allie pushed aside her moral compass and thought for herself and Millie. She did not have time to feel bad as Millie looked on ahead where the tank had just been. She knew her sister was right. They ran side-to-side to find one.

They ran to a blue car whose doors were open. It was on the outer-lane unscathed. Up ahead they could see people also eyeing and running for the car. Millie grabbed on Allie’s arm and they charged for the car. They reached it and got in just before the man in his postman uniform did. He bashed on the car window and as the car screeched forward and out into the field, away from the highway. The tank a long way’s away but the carnage was still audible. They sped off alongside highway 35.

It was 7:13 pm.

---

Millie woke up in sweat and tears, the window moist with their body heat. They had fallen asleep next to a tree deep in some shrubbery and forestry. Millie knew they past the border of Texas. She had no idea where they were though. The dashboard clock read 7:13 am.

Millie turned to see the door open, and a few yards away Allie, squatting and possibly… peeing.

Millie walked over as Allie had just finished.

A: “Hi…”

M: “Hey…”

A: “I just peed.”

M: “I know.”

A: “Barbaric to have to pee outdoors.”

M: “I thought it was second nature for you to be barbaric.”

A: “Shut up” as a small, fleeting smile broke through her grimace.

Allied walked closer to Millie with her arms open - intending to give her twin a hug.

M: “Ew, go wash your hands.”

A: “Shut up and love me, sister.”

They embraced and they chuckled lovingly.

They got their backpacks that had clothes from the apartment. Though some didn’t seem to fit, they left it there and they trudged onwards towards a town they could see a mile away.

They stopped in front of a sign

A: “Gainesville. Texas.”

M: “Yup. Christ…”

They silently walked along the middle of the road into the city, and they noted that it was suspiciously silent. It was desolate, even for a place with just low-rise buildings.

Every store they saw was dark and empty, and it seemed ransacked of its life and wares. Then out of nowhere, there was barking. A dog appeared out of an alley.

A: “Aww! It’s a dog, Millie, look! Come here, boy!”

The dog barked again, louder and more excitedly. Allie walked towards it, beckoning it to come forward. Millie followed closely, surveying the area.

The dog ran back to the alley by the time Allie was close enough to touch it. Allie and Millie stood together as they looked into the alley where the dog had gone. The barking continued, and suddenly it ceased. Instead, whining and deathly, gut-wrenching cries replaced them and ended just as quickly. Allie and Millie gasped. Next, a brief devilish growl emanated from the dark place and what came next was this bizarre clicking noise that made both Allie and Millie raise their eyebrows in confusion.

A+M: “What the hell is that?” they both said in unison, looking at each other.

The creature, similar to the ones they’d encountered, walked out of the shadows and hurriedly the twins turned to run the other direction only to stop in their place when they saw another one that also made a clicking noise.

M: “Here!” she yelled as they ran into a bookstore whose window was broken. They jumped through and ran to the back of the store through a door and slammed it close.

A: “Oh God what do we do? What do w-“ her sentence cut short when Millie forced her hand to her mouth to cover it. There was another one behind Allie, and Millie pulled her to a standing bookshelf hoping that the thing didn’t see them.

Books fell from the shelf, and the monster came closer. Allie and Millie dared not to move and slowed their breath to a minimum, which was more of a struggle to Allie who was holding down a scream. The creature jolted its head around in angles. It did not know where they were.

A: “It’s blind.” She whispered to Millie.

But it was still too loud and the creature growled and raised its arms to reach for the twins.

Almost like a psychic bond, the two pushed the shelf forward to crush the creature. It only pinned it down and the thing was still reaching for them.

A: “Keep it down! I’ll get something.”

M: “God, hurry!”

Allie looked for whatever to try and stop the thing. She found a broom and threw it to Millie. Millie, with the pole end, struck it at the ticking beast’s head, silencing it forever.

Millie was panting and Allie had to help to bring her down from the book shelf.

A: “Let’s get out of here…”

M: “Yeah…” she eyed the thing before exiting from the emergency exit, not knowing it was still active.

A: “Christ! Run!”

Allie and Millie ran to the nearest staircase they could find for high ground, and stumbled upon a single room. It was an apartment. It was locked, and Millie kicked it down with the might of her boot. They ran in, and grabbed the leather sofa and pushed it to prop the door closed. The shutters were drawn and it was a 4-room apartment.

They sighed and breathed heavily. They knew that the emergency exit alarm would attract those things over to that area, and away from where they were. The twins looked through every room to see if anything was there. Nothing. They double-checked to make sure that there was no way any of those things could get in.

A: “The owner of this place must have left town before all this happened.”

M: “Lucky them.”

They both sat down on the floor at the same time.

A: “This will do... for now. We can stay here and rest.”

Millie was already snoring when Allie looked at her and shortly so did Allie.

[flightless-angel-castiel]

Ash Chapman climbed the front porch stairs of his house with a heavy frown on his face. It was obvious he wasn’t the happiest person right now. His father had forgotten to pick him up from basketball practice. A sport he hadn’t even wanted to do; at his father’s request, he had, but unhappily. He knew his father just wanted him to make more friends, besides the couple ones he had that he didn’t talk to much even then, and he appreciated the fact his father cared. But Ash had always been more of a soccer person. Even baseball. But his father was a huge fan of basketball and it did get his dad off his back.

Practices were typically on Tuesday and Thursday nights. Always, his father would pick him up at the right time, in his sleek black car that showed he worked in a successful business in downtown Dallas, as someone with good pay. He didn’t ask about his father’s work and he didn’t offer to share. Ash just knew there was a lot of paper work and late night calls, interrupting their take-out dinners or watching some basketball game that Ash kept forgetting the teams’ names of.

Tonight, though, on a Tuesday night, his father wasn’t parked outside. At first, he thought he was running late. Sometimes his dad would be at the office late so he wouldn’t be surprised if he was just getting off work. Though, as five minutes turned into ten and then twenty, he realized his father wasn’t coming. He tried to phone him but there was no answer. It actually went straight to his voice mail. He remembered his dad mentioning not feeling well yesterday but both of them had brushed it off as a cold. Even with the news reports of that disease going around. They were more of the types to deal with something when it happened.

Ash hadn’t been too worried but as he began the walk home, which would take a good hour at least and he wasn’t willing to ask one of his team mates for a ride, he wondered if something was wrong. His father had been moving pretty slow this morning, not in his usual rushed, somehow organized way that Ash had grown use too in the mornings. His father had told it was nothing, he just needed more than one cup of coffee, and Ash had dumbly believed him. He had went to school, even with the risk of some disease, and forgot completely about it.
Until now. Now he was unlocking the front door and entering the house, looking around. His father’s car was in the driveway so he had to be home. “Dad?” he called out, dropping his backpack by the door and moving into the kitchen. He didn’t hear a reply, the house was deathly quiet, and he felt something like worry lodge itself in his throat. He walked around the kitchen’s island in the middle of the room and froze. There was a puddle of blood in front of the sink, shiny and fresh. A trail led away from the puddle, slicking across the floor and disappearing into the doorway that led to the dining room.

Ash stared at the blood in shock, his heart hammering. Had someone broken in and attacked his father? Mind racing, he snatched a knife from the knife block and held it in shaky fingers. He swallowed hard and began to slowly move forward, carefully stepping over the puddle and moving forward. He tried to not step in the blood with his sneakers. “Dad?” he called out again, voice quieter as he peeked into the dining room.

Nothing was out of place, besides the blood trail, going around the table and disappearing into the sitting room. There was more blood, too, smeared onto the wall and some on the table. He adjusted his grip on the knife, breathing uneven, as he moved forward. “Dad?” he whispered fiercely. His father might piss him off but he loved the man. He was concerned about him. He pressed himself against the wall opposite of the one with blood, moving along it as he tried to calm his racing heart.

He had to make sure his father was okay before he jumped to conclusions. Maybe someone didn’t break in… though, he couldn’t explain the blood smears then. The puddle in the kitchen. His eyebrows furrowed when he peered into the sitting room. There was more blood but it almost looked like something had exploded; there were splatters on the wall, the couch and TV. The coffee table was knocked over but none of that mattered when he saw the hunched form of his father in the corner.

“Dad!” he yelled, wondering why the man hadn’t been answering him. He began to rush into the room and then stopped; the blood trail was leading to his father. He was almost afraid as his father slowly rose to his feet and turned to him. The blood was from him; some of his suit was ruined, his suit jacket gone. His button-up was partly ripped open, showing his chest, rose-shaped scars on them. A few were bleeding. He had blood smeared around his mouth and that’s what scared Ash the most. What had he done?

His father let out a strange growl-click sound and began to move towards him. Ash backed away, eyes widening and breathing coming out faster. Panic swarmed through his mind and his lower back slammed into a dining room chair, tipping it over. His father’s eyes were bloodshot, lips pulling back in snarl. “Da-Dad?” Ash stuttered out and his father jumped at him. Ash let out a fearful yell, jumping to the side and falling to the floor. The knife slid across the wood, stopping when it hit the wall.

Ash heard his father hit the table, the clatter of the vase with flowers tipping over, another chair falling and nearly whacking him in the head. He reached for the knife, hands shaking as he breathed heavily. He felt a weight atop his back just as his fingers closed around the handle of the knife. He felt fingers digging into his back and used all of his strength to knock his father off, flip them off and scramble away the best he could from the grip. His shirt ripped and because of that, he managed to turn around only for his father to grab the arm without the knife and try to bite.

His father’s teeth tried to close around his forearm and Ash panicked, reacting in fear and the instinct to survive, and the knife was buried into his father’s temple before any other thought entered his head. His father went limp, bloodshot eyes wide opened as he fell back and laid there. Ash stared in shock, breaths coming out shakily. He just killed his father. He just killed his father because he tried biting him. Eating him. He noticed the scars on his chest, how they looked. No…

What if Ash had it now? He moved away from the body, tears flooding his eyes. He couldn’t believe this. He just killed his dad. He pushed himself into the corner, pulling his knees to his chest and staring at his father’s still body. The knife stuck out of his head, some of the blade visible. The little bit of sunlight streaming through the window in the room gleamed off of the silver, as if taunting him. He buried his face in his knees so he wouldn’t have to see it any longer and cried.

-
Joanna’s continued.

Joanna closed the door to the bathroom, locking it securely, as if that would make her forget what was outside of it. Her dead fiancé. Covered in rose-shaped scars and blood and disgusting pus-like stuff. She noticed it was on her and shuddered, the reason she had came in here. She turned on the shower, not caring about the temperature, and stepped in to it, clothes and all. She shivered at how cold it was, hugging herself and silently crying as she got soaked. She couldn’t get ahold of 911. She tried so many times but she always got the busy tone. She didn’t know what was happening out there but it was scary. If 911 was busy…

She quickly washed off her arms, hands, and face, before she began to peel the ruined clothes off her body. She left them at the bottom of the tub and quickly washed herself, feeling filthy from what she had been through. She pushed her soaked hair behind her shoulders and turned off the shower. She was shivering harshly from the cold of the water, her hair dripping water about her shoulders. She grabbed a towel off the rack, not really paying attention as she dried her body before attempting her hair. She felt like she was in automatic, doing something that should be normal.

But every time she looked in the tub, saw the bloodied clothes and remembered how rusty-colored the water had become… she gritted her teeth as her vision blurred. She hated crying. It was a weakness. She sucked in a sharp breath before opening the door that led to their bedroom. Some of the gunk had managed to even reach into the bedroom, splatter across the floor and partly onto the bed and wall. She tried to ignore it as she quickly pulled on clothes, not paying attention to what she grabbed.

She was pulling on the dark blue button up when she heard it. She froze, listening for the odd sound again. It was almost like a clicking. She heard a bang in the kitchen and jumped, heart lodging itself into her throat. She pulled on her boots quickly, making sure to stay out of the doorway. She feared whatever had gotten inside. She was ready to run. She pulled her hair into a messy bun before plastering herself against the wall, beginning to move along it. She hadn’t heard the door open or be kicked open. Maybe it happened while she was in the shower but it had been silent when she was getting dressed.

She took a deep breath, trying to get her emotions under control. What else could go wrong? She already lost the most important person in her life and couldn’t even get ahold of 911. She was going to try again but now those noises were distracting her. She slowly peered around the corner and gaped at the sight she saw. Dalton was alive. He was alive! He was getting up, slipping a bit in the mess his body had made-

Wait. How was he alive? He hadn’t been breathing. He had lost so much blood… how was he getting up right now? Joanna sucked in a sharp breath and his head snapped up, locking on her partly-hidden face. His eyes were red, bloodshot, she could tell that from here, and he let out a strange clicking sound as his head twitched. He couldn’t be alive. There was no way… she saw the rose-shaped scars littering his body and felt panic squeeze her chest. He tried to run at her but slipped in his own blood and the pus, beginning to crawl towards the doorway.

It gave her the chance she needed to slam and lock the door while crying out in panic. What was going on?! He was dead! She was sure of it! He hadn’t been breathing. His chest hadn’t been rising and falling. His heart wasn’t beating. That wasn’t Dalton. Those eyes were dead, lifeless. She jerked back when she heard a bang on the door and fresh tears tracked down her face. He was trying to break down the door to get to her. But that wasn’t him… it wasn’t. Dalton was dead. She didn’t know what was out there.

Quickly, she went into action. She ran to the closet and got a backpack stuffed in the back out. She threw a few clothes in it, the banging getting harder and louder. She bit her shaky bottom lip, wiping her face angrily. She had to suck it up and get out of here. She zipped up the backpack in a hurry. She knew where she was going without even thinking about it. Her father’s cabin. It had everything she would possibly need. Including weapons and her beloved crossbow.

She slipped the backpack on and rushed to the window. Dalton would have the keys to his truck and the keys to her car were by the front door. She shoved the window upwards as she heard the wood splinter on the door. She glanced back to see Dalton or whatever that thing was forcing his way through the door, tearing into the wood and creating a hole. She cursed silently as she slipped out of the window, onto the slight ledge outside. They lived on the second story of the apartment building and, with a quick breath, she turned her body and grabbed onto the pane of the window. She let her feet slip off of the ledge as the wood gave away more, the strange sounds the thing was making becoming louder. She reached one hand down and got a good grip on the ledge before letting go of the window, her other hand grabbing the ledge quickly. She closed her eyes briefly before letting go. It wasn’t a long drop, considering it was only the second story, but it still jolted her when she landed on her feet, made her gasp as she fell on her right ankle wrong.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she cursed, kneeling down to rub at her ankle through her boot. She heard a crash above her and looked up. She gasped when she saw Dalton hanging out the window, snarling at her. She couldn’t stick around here. She had dropped herself into an alleyway and, ignoring the throb in her right ankle, she rushed to the back of it and began to go behind buildings, to try and avoid the streets. It scared her that it was quiet; from the glimpses she caught of the streets, she could see wrecked cars, even a couple bodies. It was frightening and unnerving. She needed to concentrate on getting to her dad’s pride and joy. There, she’d be better off. For a while, at least. Even though she didn’t know what exactly was going on, she knew she’d feel safest there. So, with a heavy heart and hurt ankle, she set off to her dad’s hunting cabin.

[FiroIV]

Panic started to make a home inside Chris’s head the moment he saw his mom get approached by those things. When she died, dread and just about everything associated with anxiety soon followed. It’s been days and he’s made no real move yet. He’s been at home since it happened. Hiding and barricading himself inside from whatever those things were that got her. He’s been too scared to even try to go outside of the main house let alone out of their lot. He’s been too scared to even try and see if his mother was alright, but he saw her get ripped part so he’s sure that she’s dead. Her body was just right outside after all, lying there, rotting, and then it moved. He wasn’t scared that she moved. He was scared because now he was all alone inside this house.

Their house was pretty small, they had a small backyard, but at least it was fenced and made things pretty private. This was a good thing then and now. This house has been the main reason that Chris is alive today. The moment the screaming started, he locked the door, went to his room, hid in the closet and stayed as quiet as possible. It was really hard to though.

At some point Chris fell asleep and then woke up later. He didn’t know what time it was, but it was dark so it didn’t matter much. He could have checked any number of clocks or his watch, phone, anything that could tell time, but the first thing he did was check the window and see what was happening outside. He wanted it to have just been a nightmare, but that wasn’t the case. Life was too real for it to have been a nightmare. There were a few of those things outside standing around.

He was content on standing there watching them stand there, but then something happened. It, what happened, was a person. Chris knew him; he lived in front of their house. He didn’t know his name, but he knew that his neighbor was living alone. From what Chris could tell he was moving away from his house and slowly creeping away to who knows where. It was like watching something straight out of fiction. Only this was real life and not something, he watched on TV. His neighbor made a small step, but his foot stepped on something and made a sound. The next thing he knew that thing standing outside was now running towards his neighbor.

Chris didn’t bother to watch anymore he knew what would happen next after all he saw the same thing happen to his mom. After moving away from the window, Chris went into the kitchen. He sat in the countertop for hours listening to the non-silence. He was too sluggish to move, he was too scared to make a noise, and even though he was feeling hungry, he dared not to eat since he was sure he was going to throw up if he did. After finally deciding to eat something, he spent more time doing nothing eventually he fell asleep again.

In the three days that followed, he kept to the initial routine that he made for himself right after his neighbor died. He didn’t do anything else outside, eat, sleep, keep clean, and to an almost obsessive degree he just watched whatever happened outside through the front window, Those things were still outside, but since he kept quite they didn’t bother him.

Anything he did outside of the routine he did with utmost care and silence. He made sure that when he moved the sofa and the bookshelf to the front doors and windows there weren’t any of those things nearby. He got lucky and managed to finish barricading the house without attracting any attention. He made sure to do it slowly and carefully. When he moved the bookshelf he took out everything first, moved it, and then put everything back right after.

He knew he could have done more, but he always felt tired and dreary. No one could blame him though, and now no one will. It was a little saddening.

Boredom and a foreboding sense of fear has been companion in those days of calm. He could have entertained himself by watching TV or turning in the radio, which would have probably helped him, gather info, but he didn’t want to gather any attention. For the most part he read his books, comics, and stared out that window again and again. He watched the same view from the same window every day until his vision would begin to blur and his brain would begin to numb and fall asleep. Day in and day out nothing changed except the view from outside that window.

[FiroIV]

Holly

Travelling alone was a bit different, but Holly’s learned how to deal with it. That being said it was still hard doing all the surviving alone, plus there was no one to keep watch when sleeping so ensuring a good hiding place for the night was necessary. Still she pretty lucky to have avoided any obstacles, and if she couldn’t avoid it then she dealt with it quite well. She chucked up all this “good luck” as experience. The way to gain all this experience was not something she would openly share, but it was valuable enough that she thanked sometimes, but only sometimes.

One of the things she’s learned is that when moving around it’s best to stay near the main roads, but avoid getting to close since they’re always heavily populated by enemy soldiers,. Applying this to the now enemy soldiers roughly translates to hideous creatures of the undead. They were bastards, and every time she’d take one down she didn’t even bother to call them an enemy since an enemy was something you call someone who a person personally hates for being a person. These creatures didn’t deserve to be called people, they were less.

She hated travelling alone, but one good thing that came out of this was that she was constantly worried about moving that she forgot to think about the loneliness, but only sometimes. Most of the time her thoughts were about the past, but not the one that made her depressed. Holly was thinking of the past that she hoped to recover. Things shops, café’s, restaurants, bookshops, and the small part of her that she always ignores wishes for shops that sell dress beautiful summer dresses that only that ignored part of her is willing to admit she likes. She thought she was making herself feel better, but really deep inside she was just screwing herself more.

Holly’s made great time since she left that suffocating paradise as evidenced by the fact that she was now eyeing the outer proximity of the big city. It’s been a while since she’s left Ennis so the buildings that weren’t houses or shacks were a bit of a change. After Ennis she headed further north to Ferris and Wilmer. Wilmer was clean enough, but judging by the picture of Lancaster in her map there would be tons of obstacles in the way. Her uncle lived just by the edge of the place so that was a plus, but they also lived near a school, and was in the middle of the street so a great many number of obstacles are to be expected.

There was a bit frustration and worry about the future, but being young that was something she familiar with. At the moment she was hiding inside another house on the outskirts of Wilmer. It wasn’t exactly a house as it was a kennel, to be precise it was called the “Brycehaus Kennel”. It was already night out and making any move now was a bad decisions even if the area was already clear. She’d been looking for anything she could in the complex, but sadly there was nothing even remotely interesting or useful. At the least, it was quiet and barn was quite a nice place to sleep in.

--

Chris

It was dark outside the window. It was dark everywhere really. He didn’t turn on the lights anymore since those things might be attracted to lights. Chris didn’t really check, plus the only creature he’s been seeing in the last few days was this one guy outside their place fixated on the car of their now dead neighbor. There might have been something in the car, but Chris didn’t want to think about it. If it was a person then he could probably helped, but it was probably nothing. He hoped it was just nothing and not like a crying baby or something, probably not.

Sweat was sticking to his body that was lying in the dark. He hadn’t taken a bath in a while since he wanted to avoid doing thing unnecessary, plus bathing was always optional unless it’s really necessary. Plus he didn’t do anything that warranted a need to bathe excessively. He would probably have avoided sweating this much if he turned on a fan or the air-conditioning, but the rumbling from the machine would probably attract those things. And he knew firsthand how those things are attracted to sound, even the slightest one’s would get him eaten.
Food’s going to be scarce soon so he needed to move pretty soon. He didn’t really know how. He could risk going to the neighbors, but every time he would think about his feet would freeze. The two houses he could get to were the Rice’s on the right and the Johnson’s on the left. The Rice’s left even before the shit hit the fan so he knew the house was empty, but as for the Johnson’s he didn’t know. Chris’ didn’t know his neighbors that well, but he knew them enough to get along with them pretty well when they were still there.

He tried to make contact with the Johnson’s, but there were no replies. He threw some rolled up pieces of part on the windows to see if they’d hear it and see him on the window, but no such thing happened. He figured that the houses were empty, but he still could have been wrong. He’s been wrong lots of times before so really there wasn’t much of a choice. One way or the other, wrong or right he’d have to go out of the house find some food or die, trying and/or starvation.

[StarWight]

PO1 Ethan Ryder

“What the fuck is going on?” Ethan asked grimly, stroking his medium length blonde beard, and staring into the eyes of his fellow brother, his comrade in arms, Miles Ward. The tall, beefy man shrugged, emerald eyes glinting with excitement. “Hell if I know, Ethan, but I’ll tell you this--it’s fuckin bad if our asses our bein’ called! I’m pretty fuckin’ excited!” He clapped a giant hand over his friends shoulder grinning. There was a large group of men, over 100 total, all lined up at attention, all dressed in combat fatigues. Some wore Army patches, still others were Marines. And then there were about 25 of them off to the side; Navy SEALs. The best of the best, elite of the elite. A small smile crossed Ethan’s lips, and he shook his head. He was about to say something to Miles when, a short man decked out in full General’s uniform. Shaved head, Berrete pulled low, cigarette hanging out of the corner of his mouth and mirrored shades hiding his eyes; this 3 star General looked mean!

“Alright, listen here you sorry sons of bitches! You’re about to get the fuckin’ briefing of a goddamn lifetime. The Rose Plague as the civilian’s call it, Codenamed Rose Red to us, has gotten severely fucking out of hand. We’re shipping your asses out towards the Texan border, where one of our FEMA camps are set up, and you’re gonna help protect the place. SHIT has descended upon you, do you hear me? Deep shit, that’s why this is a joint Army/Navy/Marine operation. You fucking listen to the big guys in charge, do you goddamn understand?” Everyone all at once shouted “Yes SIR” and hands raised to salute the man before them. He nodded giving the men an icy glare.

“Some of you will not make it home to your families. Some of you are going to fucking die out there. But ALL of you WILL serve your country and protect the United States of America from this goddamn plague, and you WILL succeed in kicking it’s sorry fucking ass and showing what happens when you fuck with the United States Military! Now get your scrawny asses on that C130 and MOVE OUT!!! Miles and Ethan exchanged glances, but dutifully headed towards the nearest cargo jet--Ethan with a frown on his face, while Miles was smiling ear to ear. When they were in side and belted in, they found themselves facing a line of similar faces. Some were ashen and terrified, others were looking like it was christmas.

“The fuck you so happy for?” Ethan finally asked, getting annoyed by his friends excitement. Miles shrugged. “Come on, Ryder--we’re about to see some action! Don’t you want to get down there, kill a few of those stupid-ass infected, and save our country?” Sighing, Ethan just leaned his head back as the plane began to thunder down the runway, slowly lifting into the air. It would be a 3 hour flight to the Texan border, where the Fema Camp was stationed. Time enough for a good nap, Ethan figured.

His eyes popped open when the C130 touched down. And there they were, in Fema Camp 541. Sniper Rifle slung over his shoulder and pistol holstered at his hip, Ethan was one of the first off the damn plane, with Miles right by his side. As soon as he stepped on pavement, he stared, wide eyed. “Oh fuck--GET BACK IN THE GODDAMN PLANE!” He screamed, motioning for the others to back in right now.

It was like a legion. He didn’t know what the hell happened, but there were hundreds upon hundreds of...things. Men and women, even children, covered in the trademark red oozing boils for which the plague was named. And they’d all turned. Had been turned for at least a few days, from the looks (and smell) of it. He tried to remember at their pre-briefing meeting what they’d been told...they received an SoS from Fema Camp 541 5 days ago, then all communications were lost. They’d said they needed help, and needed it NOW. They’d been sent reinforcements before, but shit was bad. So, the military was sending a massive joint operation, several Cargo Planes full of troops from the Army and Marines, as well as a small detachment of Navy SEALs for good measure. But it seemed they were too late.

Ethan could make out the fatigues on some of the shufflers, former brothers turned...something. Others were clearly civilians who’d been brought in for treatment. And every last one of them was now looking at the noisy Cargo planes that had just landed. All 92 soldiers that had been in the plane were gaping at the scene before them. Tents in flames, curls of smoke rising into the air, trash and debris strewn about, human body parts littering the fields, blood smeared everywhere. It was a mess to be sure. Everyone made to get back into the planes, but the infected began to run towards them. They ran, and they were coming much too fast. Fast beyond belief. “Jesus CHRIST, look at them move!!! We ain’t got time to load up, OPEN FIRE!!! Miles yelled out. Chaos ensued. It was a merciless dance of erupting gunfire, screams ringing through the night, limbs flying, flesh being torn asunder as the infected quickly reached the platoon of soldiers. Soon the other planes landed, hundreds of soldiers taking position, caught off guard by the carnage that was unfolding before their eyes. And Ethan saw it all in slow motion. His pistol was in one hand, survival knife in the other. He hardly even heard the sound of his own Socom over the death surrounding him. Brains splattered across pavement. Bodies fell to the ground. Soldiers went down beneath a sea of infected, agonizing cries of help suddenly cut off and ending in bloodcurdling screams. Surrounded. Completely surrounded, no way to get back into the plane, no pilots left alive because oh god, now the infected were in the fucking thing. He spun around, not sure what to do for the first time in his career, and found himself staring right in the eyes of a man in Army dress, a Master Sergeant according to the stripes on his uniform. He raised his pistol to fire, but the creature--yes creature, for surely there was nothing human left, just a shell of what once was--leapt upon him, dragging him to the ground. He could see the puss-filled boils upon the face, smell the stench of rotting flesh--and then it’s head exploded. Blinking, wiping the gore from his face, he felt someone grasp his shoulder, pulling him away. “You ain’t dyin’ on me yet, Ethan!!” Miles yelled, yanking him away from the death-trap that the cargo plane had become.

It had only been about 10 minutes, but it seemed like 10 years. Almost every one of the soldiers were dead. A few gunshots could still be heard as assault rifles and pistols sounded. Ethan was still clutching his Socom in his right hand, survival knife in his left, ready to slash and shoot anything that moved. And, judging from the blood staining the blade of his knife, he already had. Funny, he couldn’t quite remember pulling the trigger, stabbing and slashing, he’d just done it automatically, in the heat of the moment, all else fading to instinct.

They were running now, the final sounds of gunfire dying down to a dismal silence. “We gotta get the fuck out of here, Miles!” Ethan cried, gazing at the walkers that were now beginning to notice there were still two left alive. “No goddamn shit! his friend remarked. They managed to make it towards the gates of the Fema Camp, and Miles shoved them open. Ethan moved quickly, dashing through pistol at the ready. “Clear!!” he shouted to his friend. And then he heard the sound of the M4 his brother in arms was carrying. He spun around in time to see the startled look on Miles’ face as an infected crashed into his side, sending the assault rifle scittering across the ground. “MILES!!!” Ethan screamed, raising his pistol. But it was too late. The undead sank it’s teeth into his best friends neck, severing the jugular. He could hear the gasping of breath, the struggle to breath, the gurgling as he choked on his own blood. Ethan didn’t think twice about it. He pulled the gates to Fema Camp 541 shut, and made a mad dash for the freeway. The infected gave pursuit, of course--but the gates allowed him to make it to the abandoned cars that lined the streets. They were still in working condition and it didn’t take him long to find one. Ethan didn’t know where he was going, he just had to get away. So he headed south in the Kia Spectra he’d found, keys still in the ignition. “Fuck!!” Ethan screamed, slamming his fist onto the dashboard, cracking it in one swift blow. “Damn it...Miles...goddamn….” his voice trailed off, and sobs took over, a trail of tears falling from his eyes.

****************

The car ran out of gas just in front of a sign that read “Welcome to Gainesville.” Scowling and still distraught, Ethan left the vehicle behind, bringing along his pack, his sniper rifle, and his pistol. It was night. Dark, with stars glittering overhead. He tread uneasily through the streets, thick combat boots making a surprisingly small amount of noise. His pistol was drawn, and he gazed warily into the desolate streets, passing stop-signs and intersections, shocked at the detritus that was strewn every which way. It looked like someone had unleashed the gates of hell itself! Somewhere in the distance he heard barking, and something--either a dog or a wolf--let out a mournful howl into the nearly full moon. Ethan crept forward, kept moving. He needed shelter, he needed to think, he needed SLEEP. He saw a library not terribly far away, but the windows were busted out, and the door kicked in. Wouldn’t make much of a shelter, there was no way he could secure it. Not in his time frame, anyway, it would take hours. But, not to far away, Ethan saw an apartment. It looked abandoned, as far as he could tell. No lights were on or anything. He made his way to the door, and made to push it open when he noticed the door jam was broken. Carefully holding his pistol in hand, he tried to push the door in, but something was blocking it. Well, Shufflers didn’t block doorways, even if they did break them down. He figured someone was in there. Slamming his fist into the door, he called in his deep voice to anyone that might be inside, “HEY! Hey anyone in there? I’m Petty Officer Ethan Ryder, United States Navy--I need some help. Please! If anyone’s in there, open this goddamn door before one of these fucking shufflers rip my damn head off!!”

---

Elendria Price

Elle was gazing at her mother’s tear-stained eyes as she gazed at the TV in disbelief. “Mom, what’s wrong?” Elendria asked, walking over to her and giving the 45 year old woman a kiss on the cheek. Her mother gazed over at her, and shook her head softly. ”It’s nothing dear, just...something on the TV,”[i] her mother answered in a low, hoarse voice, flipping the television off. But Elle wasn’t stupid. It was more about the Rose Plague. Maybe she was only 15, but she knew that things weren’t looking bad. She let out a soft sigh and shook her head. “Mom, I’m not a little kid, you don’t need to hide things from me. It’s bad, isn’t it?” Her mother stared at her then, and for a long moment neither mother nor daughter said a word to each other. Then, the woman slowly stepped forward, and wrapped Elendria up in her arms, holding her tight. [i] “I love you so much. No matter what happens, I want you to know that, okay?”[i] Elle nodded, tears stinging her eyes. It scared her, to hear her mom stalking like that. Scared her to death, more than the reports on TV about something happening to the infected, and about staying home if at all possible. Even the dreaded word “quarantine” hadn’t scared her as much as this moment with her mom.

[i] “I’m going upstairs to take a nap, hun,”[i] Sarah Price said to her beautiful daughter. [i]”You wait for your dad now, kay?”[i] Choked up and barely containing her worry, Elendria nodded. Sarah went upstairs, gently shut the door behind her, and stared into the mirror at her thinly lined face, pale blond hair and bright blue eyes. She pulled back the sleeve of her shirt, gazing at her arm and the tiny little red bump that had just started to protrude through the skin. A tear slid down Sarah’s cheek, and she looked back into the mirror, into her own eyes. She found a piece of scrap paper on her nightstand, and with it a pen. [i]I love you all. Please forgive me. I didn’t want to be one of them, to give you the burden of doing to me what I’m about to do to myself. You were the best daughter a mother could ask for Elendria. And Michael, if you see this...take care of her, of our daughter. She’ll need you more than ever. I love you.

With her note finished, Sarah sat down on the bed, reached beneath a fluffy white pillow, and pulled out a long, serrated kitchen knife. Sliding the knife across her wrist, she had to stifle a cry of pain as it cut deep, severing the artery, and rendering her left hand useless. Still she forced it to cut deeper, blood seeping from the wound and staining the white linens a gruesome crimson. It was done. The deed was done. Sarah already felt her head begin to spin, and she layed herself down, resting her head upon the pillow. Her last thoughts were of her daughters stunning face, a face that looked just like hers...and that of Michael, the man who’d loved her when nobody else would. All faded to black.

Elendria was sitting on the couch, listening to her Ipod, wondering how long her mother was going to sleep when there was a banging on the door. She frowned, looking at the clock. 3 hours already? It was now half past six, and her mom was still upstairs. And someone was banging on the door. Sighing, she stood to her feet and moved to the front door, pulling it open. And a bright smile crossed her lips as she saw who it was. “DADDY!!” Elendria cried out, throwing her arms around him. To her surprise, he shoved her back--hard! So hard, in fact, that she fell on her ass to the floor. She blinked, taken aback and tears stinging her eyes from hurt feelings. That is, until she got a good look at his face. A face covered in red boils, eyes wide and swear pouring down his forehead. “Oh my God! Oh my God, Dad!!” she cried out, leaping to her feet. He let out a low groan, took two steps forward, and then his eyes rolled back and he fell to the floor. “Dad!!!” the teenage girl screamed, kneeling down and resting his head in her lap. He gazed down at those eyes, and knew. He’d stopped breathing, and his eyes were still, staring up blankly. A lump formed in her throat but she still held hope that everything was going to be alright. She ran to the phone, picked up the receiver and dialed 9-1-1. It was busy. “Come on, what the hell!!!” she cried frantically, trying again but to no avail. She dashed back into the living room and ran upstairs straight to her mothers room, banging on the door and calling her name. When no answer came, tears began to run down her cheek. “Please, God...no…” she murmured under her breath. She twisted the doorknob and pushed open the door, only to be greeted by the smell of blood. And she saw her mother, lying on the bed surrounded in a pool of her own blood, arm hanging limply off the bed. She felt dizzy. Elendria took a tentative step forward. “Mom…” she whispered, as though she were only asleep. She stood over her body now, and she leaned down gripping her in a tight embrace, not caring that blood now stained her dark sweater. Tears trickled down, and she kissed her mother's forehead. And then something grabbed her from behind, throwing her to the ground. She rolled over on her back, to see her… “Dad??? Dad, what the he--” she was cut off as he lifted her off the ground, slamming her into the nightstand. The side of her head was smashed against the mirror, and she felt sharp glass dig into her flesh. Letting out a sharp cry of pain, she reached blindly, struggling to find the drawer. She somehow managed to open it as her own father’s hands latched around her neck and began to lift her again. Just as her dad flung her once more, she’d managed to grab his Glock--but didn’t get a chance to fire. She *did* manage to hold onto the gun, however, as she flew through the air. She slammed face-first into the dresser, several books clattering to the floor. She could feel the gash on her cheek and the hot blood mixing with tears. Gasping for breath, the wind knocked out of her, she rolled over, back against the dresser and squeezed the trigger. She fired every last round in the magazine, not even sure if anything hit. It was several minutes when she caught her breath that she knew she must’ve managed, or she’d be dead by now.

Blinking, and trying to clear her head, she stood to her feet, wincing in pain. Her leg tingled and hurt from the knee down with every bit of weight she put on it. Limping, she made her way towards her dads fallen body, several gunshots in his chest and two right in the face, blowing his head from his shoulders. She tried not to throw up...but failed. Lurching, she rested her forehead against the bed and vomited the entire lunch she’d eaten that afternoon. Then she ran to the bathroom, slammed the door behind her, and leaned against the door, tears falling from her eyes. Sliding down the door, she drew her chest up to her knees, buried her face in her hands and began to weep. Her body wracked with sobs, her shoulders shaking, she cried and cried and cried, an endless flood of tears and no way to stop them.

[flightless-angel-castiel]

Ash had been on his own for a while. He thought it was a Tuesday... maybe? He had kept up with the days while he was at his home. He had used his watch to keep up with the hours, had a calendar he used to X off the passing days. He really believed they would be saved. He really believed that the military would take better action or that a doctor would find a cure and everything would right itself, eventually. He wanted to know what day the world was saved, wanted to be able to remember what day he felt such relief and joy at the infection getting beat.

When his house was broken in to and he had to flee before he was attacked by a group of thugs, his faith had shaken but still held. When he ran out of food and water and nearly got sick enough to get himself killed, eventually finding the things he needed, his faith was crumbling. When one of those things... whatever the hell they were... attacked him and ripped his shirt, almost scratched him, and he killed it with the hunting knife he had found along the way, his faith was gone, turned to dirt underneath the heavy weight of this horror he was experiencing.

He was so tired. He hadn't seen another person in so long. In a big place like Dallas... someone else had to have lived, right? He didn't even know how long it had been since the outbreak. He didn't know how long he had been out here, sneaking around and finding what he could to eat and drink. Three days, three weeks? He barely slept, barely ate, just moved. Kept moving, didn't stay in one place too long. The last time he had seen people, they were tearing his house apart and yelling at each other and two even threw fists. It was the reason Ash knew he couldn't trust them and fled. It felt so long since he had seen someone trust-worthy, since he had seen someone willing to help anyone but themselves.

It was the reason when he came face to face with a crossbow, arrow in place and ready to fire, the gun he had gotten from the back of his father's closet was in his hand, pointed with his finger on the trigger. His hand might be shaking but he'd shoot, to live. He thought he could but there was still doubt in the back of his mind. He tried to ignore the doubt the best he could. The crossbow stayed up, the face behind it dirty with a twisted scowl. They were obviously a woman though; with messy hair in a equally messy bun and soft features. But she was obviously strong and could hold her own. If she couldn't, she wouldn't be here.

Ash had been exploring through a small market on the corner of some street - he wasn't even sure what street, didn't really care, it didn't matter. Thankfully, it had been empty but there wasn't much food. He had managed to drop a can of beans in his bag and get up before he came face to face with a dangerous weapon. The crossbow stayed steady as the woman's brown eyes flickered down to the gun. Ash tried to look tough, straightened himself out, even puffed his chest out a little. He had to try and look like he knew what he was doing but honestly? He had never shot this gun off in his entire life.

Slowly, the crossbow began to lower, but it still stayed up, aimed at his gut instead. It nearly collided with his gun, since they were standing so close, but he kept his arm up, the barrel pointed towards the woman's chest. She was older, a lot older, than him. From the looks of it, maybe her thirties. Really, Ash didn't care. He just wanted to get out of here and away from her and that crossbow. When, suddenly, she smirked. It wasn't nice; it wasn't a soft smile or a reassuring one. It was an amused smirk, one that tipped to the side and didn't look too pretty. "Kid, before you point that thing at me, try clickin' the safety off." she said, Southern accent strong, and cocked an eyebrow. "I bet ya ain't even got a bullet in the chamber, do ya?"

Ash bit his inner cheek. No, he didn't. The safety was on and he didn't even have a bullet ready. Wow, he felt really stupid right now. And reckless. He should have checked the gun out more, fiddled with it. He had seen them used in movies, he should have guessed from that. What if he had needed it, like right now? This was so stupid of him and now he was going to die. Or just get mugged. Either way, both were bad. Being mugged would mean death in this world. Without any supplies, with the water and food he did have, or the tarp he used as cover, or even the knife on his waist, he would die quicker than he would with all this. "How do you know?" he asked instead, readjusting his grip on the gun and keeping his breathing even.

The woman tilted her head to the side, looking almost offended. She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "I'd find out if I came at ya. You'd pull the trigger and nothin'. Don't take me for an idiot." she said and narrowed her eyes slightly. She looked Ash up and down and looked to be considering something. Her eyes lingered on the knife attached to his belt but she shrugged before using the strap on the crossbow to swing it over her shoulder, the weapon banging against her backpack. "You got a name?"

Ash squinted his eyes once the woman disarmed herself. She didn't look to be intimidated by him and that... that bothered him. He would surely die without the knowledge to defend himself and that wasn't something he could accept. He was strong, physically. He had worked out a lot but before and even after, while he was still at his house, but that didn't mean he knew how to fight. He didn't lower the gun, instead holding it higher, more towards her face. "... Ash." he said slowly, watching her with wary eyes.

"Ash?" she repeated, as if she was testing the name out. She re-shouldered her crossbow and lifted a hand up. Ash tightened his hold on the gun, tried to get his hand to stop shaking. She put her hand on top of the gun and gave him a look. "Well, Ash, why don't ya lower the gun? You ain't needin' it, trust me."

Ash shook his head and shook her hand off the gun before leveling it at her face. His other hand came up, holding the gun too, trying to stop his shaking. "How can I trust you? If I put my guard down, you'll just attack." he said, sure of it. No one could be trusted in this world. Now this place was full of liars and thieves and cheats. He wasn't sure if he fell in any of those. He hoped he wouldn't but he wouldn't know what he'd do if he got desperate enough. The first people he had saw made him believe that.

"Boy, you ain't got no guard. Not with this gun or your poor fighting stance. Look, I ain't gonna attack ya. You're the first person I've seen since... shoot. Since the damn beginnin' of this hell. You're a sight for sore eyes, let me tell ya." the woman said and put her hands on her hips. She briefly reminded Ash of his mother; all stern-faced, hands on hips, looking like she was ready to argue. Ash didn't like it. "I'm Jo. Now c'mon, I ain't gonna stab ya in the back. I doubt ya can do the same to me so... hell, why don't we just stick together?"

Ash stared at her for a few seconds, silent. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck, rolling down his skin and settling on his lower back, making his shirt stick uncomfortably to himself. He rolled his shoulders, just slightly, and bit his inner cheek hard, almost drawing blood, before huffing and lowering his gun. Even if she was lying, he was going to get mugged or killed or even both later so he might as well just agree. He slipped the gun into the back of his jeans, where he always kept it, and still eyed the woman - Jo - warily. "Why do you want to stick together?" he asked, truly curious.

Jo got that smirk again and turned to the shelving beside them, pushing a dented box of cereal aside to look behind it. "Well, for one," she began, voice amused and dripping with venom, "you don't look no older than fourteen. Thought you could use the protection. Obviously." she pushed another box aside but Ash didn't pay attention to that; he watched her face more.
He frowned at her words. "Hey, I'm sixteen! And I can take care of myself-" he stopped when Jo sent him a widening smirk. Oh. She wanted to get a raise out of him. She wanted him to be offended and get defensive. She found it funny. His lips turned into a scowl and he looped his thumbs through his backpack straps, rocking back on his heels. "Whatever." he grumbled.

Jo grew quiet for a few seconds, quietly moving around a few boxes to get a peek behind. Cans roll and with people probably snatching them at the beginning of this... they could be anywhere. She knelt down, checking out the bottom shelf, before giving a slight sigh. This time she wasn't smirking; actually, she looked almost sad and it was almost weird, considering Ash's first impression of her. "And ya know... strength in numbers? I don't know, some bullshit like that. But... maybe it'd be best if we had someone else." she mumbled the last sentence. Ash almost didn't catch it but when he heard it, he almost smiled.

His lips twitched but it didn't become a full smile. "Yeah... maybe." he said quietly, turning away to shuffle through another shelf. They rummaged in silence, both keeping a look out as they looked through everything. Ash moved a box of mac and cheese - god, he missed that cheesiness - over to the side and heard something slide against the shelfing. A glass jar of mushrooms - he didn't want to know how they got beside the mac and cheese - slid and went towards the floor. He tried to catch it but it brushed his fingertips and hit the floor. The crash sounded loud in the silence they had created, mushroom juice and the mushrooms themselves splaying across the dirty tile of the store.

Ash looked up at Jo just as she looked at him. She looked annoyed and gave him a glare before looking towards the broken windows of the store. They had been talking quietly earlier, their voices barely carrying along the store's messy conditions, and that crash had been much louder than their voices. She quickly dropped down when she heard that strange clicking sound and Ash did the same. He felt his heart beginning to pound the way it always did when he heard that sound. He took a deep breath and jumped when he felt something on his arm. But it was only Jo's hand and she was nodding towards the back. One of those things came into view, out on the sidewalk, moving forward slowly, trying to find the source of the sound. Both survivors knew there would be more.

Quietly, Joanna moved forward, stepping over things and moving on light feet, going towards the back room. Ash followed just as quietly. He had gotten use to being quiet over these last few... however long it had been. He glanced back when he heard glass crunching. He remembered stepping on it when he had been coming into the store. It made his heart pound in his ears. He stepped over a box of pasta noodles but didn't see the broken glass on the other side. The glass crunched loudly and Joanna froze, looking back with wide eyes. Oh shit, he fucked up now.

Those things had heard it. It was obvious by the noises they were letting out and they running. Thundering footsteps against the tile, stepping on boxes and glass like it was nothing. "C'mon!" Joanna yelled, grabbing Ash's arm and running the rest of the way to the break room. Ash easily kept up, yanking his arm free from her grasp and following her. He didn't dare look back. These things were fast, frighteningly so, and he wasn't sure how close they were. They ran through the backroom, hopping over fallen cardboard boxes, hoping it'd slow them down and it wouldn't bite them in the ass later for taking the time to jump over them. Literally, maybe. Joanna made a sharp right, following the signs to the exit and saw the door leading outside. She didn't slow as she slammed into the door, turning the knob at the same time and crashing through it. Ash was right on her heels, being sure to take the time to twist his body and slam the door shut. One of those things had been right there and they slammed into the door, banging against it and making the worse screeching sounds.

Joanna didn't slow down, instead running towards a fire escape and jumping. Her fingers wrapped around the bottom of the ladder and her swinging weight yanked it down. Ash took pause, catching his breath as Joanna began to climb the ladder at a pace Ash was impressed by. He quickly followed her and once they both were up on the platform, he yanked the ladder up before falling back on his ass, breathing heavily. He wasn't really breathing heavily from the quick run but from the fear and adrenaline coursing through him. He leaned his head against the rusty rail of the fire escape, trying to calm his racing heart and ignore the sweat rolling down his face.

Joanna didn't stop moving. She started to pace, the fire escape only creaking slightly before adjusting to the sudden stomping weight, and whispering to herself angrily. Her messy bun bobbed with her movements, her shirt under her button up sticking to her body like a second skin from the sweat and heat. Ash turned his head, watching her pace and mutter angrily. He knew it was his fault. He had almost gotten them both killed. It was still easy to hear those things banging and screaming and screeching. It was so scary and he couldn't calm his racing heart. Not right now. He still wasn't used to all of this. He needed help and he thought this woman could give it to him. "I'm sorry." he said, grabbing the railing and pulling himself to his feet.

Joanna froze, shoulders tensing, and slowly turned to him. She was scowling again and she came upon him fast, fisting the front of his shirt. She was taller than him, embarrassingly, and she could be scary, he realized. "'I'm sorry?'" she repeated in a harsh whisper and glared. "Is that what ya goin' to say when ya get me killed? Gonna say sorry while shooting me in the head? Or, excuse me, stab me 'cause ya can't use a damn gun! Don't ya damn say sorry. Instead of sayin' sorry," she shook him hard, once, and then pushed him back. He nearly fell off the fire escape but grabbed the railing just in time. "Improve ya damn self and learn to be more careful." she stared him down for a few more seconds before turning away, going to the other side of the fire escape and staring off, grabbing the rail tight enough to turn her knuckles white.

Ash slowly sat back down, covering his face and cursing himself. He could have got himself killed. He could have gotten Joanna killed. Granted, he just met her. But if someone had died because of him... no, he couldn't deal with that. He had already been through so much. He still didn't trust Jo, she actually scared him, but... but she could of left him back there. She could have ran the instant he made noise and been gone. But she hadn't. Did that mean something? He wasn't so sure. He wasn't sure how long they had sat there. Well, Joanna stood. But it felt like a while. He listened to sounds of those things trying to get through the door and stared at his own feet. At least the sun was still up but it wouldn't be for long.

But finally, she took a deep breath and turned to him. "We need to find a place to rest... ya look white as a sheet. C'mon." she began to climb the stairs of the fire escape and Ash got up to follow her. She paused in the middle of the stairs, turning to Ash and staring down at him. "After we find somewhere fairly safe to stay... and after we rest... I'll show ya some things. How to load that pistol, how to make sure the safety is off. We ain't shootin' it, that's stupid. But I'll... help ya learn, kid." she didn't make eye contact through her speech and immediately after she said it, she was jogging up the stairs.

Ash watched her for a few seconds with a ghost of a smile before following her. Maybe she could be trusted. He could only hope. He needed another person in this new world, just like she had said. He wasn't willing to trust her too much but... but maybe soon, he could. Maybe soon, they'd become a good team and could survive this thing together. God knew they needed somebody.

[Dioxide]

The two woke, their bodies jolted in reaction to the banging of the door and the words echoed throughout the empty apartment:

“HEY! Hey anyone in there? I’m Petty Officer Ethan Ryder, United States Navy--I need some help. Please! If anyone’s in there, open this goddamn door before one of these fucking shufflers rip my damn head off!!”

The twins, though groggy in movement and vision blurry, looked at each other to figure out what to do. They both stood synchronously, moving towards the door. Allie looked at the time and found not five minutes had passed into their sleep, but it had felt like an eternity in their minute slumber. It was dark outside, and the window, curtains undrawn, allowed the moonlight to come in. It was their source of luminescence.

The sofa blocked the door, but it made little effort to prevent the door from shaking from the fist-slamming of the man outside. With her tall frame, Millie looked through the peephole to see a man in full, decked-out brown camo uniform with a frighteningly long rifle. Apart from that, there was nothing else to tell of him. The peephole was fitted with a fish-eyed lens, to allow a wider field of view from the inside and little to not visibility from the outside. His size was deceivingly small through it. Millie withdrew from the door and Allie went with her turn to look. Millie, drawing the curtains and clinging to her arms, was pacing back and forth, waiting for her sister’s response, Allie being the smart one of the two. The two spoke in hushed, tensed voices.

A: “Oh shit he’s for real.”

M: “How do we know he’s for real?!”

A: “Real or not, we can’t just leave him there!”

M: “Why not!? How do we know he won’t just kill us with that gigantic fucking gun of his!?”

A: “Don’t be an idiot; it’s a sniper rifle. He’d kill us with his bare fucking hands.”

M: “That’s not helping, Allie!”

A: “And neither is us arguing while a man out there pleading for his life! He’s from the army, damnit!”

M: “And what about those things!? What if they followed him!? God, Allie! Fine, hold on!”

A: “Hold on!?” she groaned, shocked with the attitude Millie was showing, watching her as Millie ran into what seemed like the kitchen of the apartment.

Allie pushed the sofa aside and, with all her might in fear and tension, pulled the door open and gestured the man to come in, she hiding behind the door. She slammed the door shut and pulled the sofa back in place. The door was dark, and she noticed the light switch on the wall but decided against it. The moonlight was enough to keep the room and everything and everyone visible.

Millie, throughout the ruckus, had looked through the shelves and cabinets for anything aerosol and more importantly flammable. In the small kitchenette with a small cabinet beneath the sink, it was not hard to find a can of bug spray. She noticed how well stocked in food and supplies the owners of the apartment seemed to be. She looked to the upper shelves for a lighter, one that could act as the flame for her make-shift flamethrower Allie had taught her when they were young. They were reckless then, but now it was called for. It barely caught the light of the dark sky and Millie grabbed it. Millie could hear the shuffling of footsteps in the living room and she ran out with determination to already kick the man out.

Millie drew the bug spray can and squeezed the trigger on the lighter, igniting a red-orange flame in front of it, standing close enough for the range to hit the man, Millie unafraid of the apparently short soldier. Allie and Millie were a good three inches taller than him, but they were smart enough to be careful of what the skilled killer could do.

M: “Drop your gun you motherfucker.” her voice terse, but shaky, her hands unable to stay still, sweat formed on her head and hands. She had to make an effort to stare into the figure and hold what she had in her hands.

A: “Millie, no.” she held up her hand, eyeing the two daily household supplies Millie was utilizing as a dangerous weapon

M: “Drop your gun before I burn you to a crisp.”

A: “He’s from the army, damnit! He can help us!”

M: “He’s not much help if he brought those things here! Were you followed, you fucker?!”

A: “Millie, I swear, stop this now!” she was moving closer to Millie.

M: “I said drop the gun, asshole!”

A: “Enough!” she now stood between Millie and the man, arms spread out, her body now in a T-shape.

A: “Forgive my sister. We don’t want any trouble. Were you followed?”

The room was dark enough that he probably could not see the twins’ faces, but Allie and Millie were both terrified, and as Allie walked backwards towards Millie, she felt a sense of comfort but her grimace did not subside. She struggled to say her words, her throat as though clogged, Allie unable to swallow her saliva in her fear.

[flightless-angel-castiel]

Joanna kicked her feet up on the small, round table before her, leaning back in the wooden chair and rocking it back on its back legs. It creaked in protest, a warning that it may give out, but she ignored it as she ran a rag along a bolt for her crossbow, being careful as she cleaned the tip of it. The sun was setting outside, the sunlight slowly disappearing as it lowered itself. She stared out the window for a moment, watched how shadows began to stretch before looking back down at the task of cleaning off the bolts.

They- well, actually, Joanna had got a window opened to an apartment on the top floor; turned out, the fire escape was attached to an apartment complex. After her and Ash had made sure the small apartment was cleared, Ash went on the hunt for more food while Joanna blocked the doorway leading into the hallway with a bookshelf that had been in the living room. She hadn't dared open the door and she had tried to be as quiet as possible. If there were enough of those things outside the door, she didn't want them banging on it. The backdoor to the store had been steel; this one was wooden and would easily break underneath the proper weight and push.

Even just one could get through a wooden door, if it was determined enough. She knew that. She subconsciously popped her right ankle, remembering when she had hurt it when she dropped from that window. It still ached if she was on it too much. Which was everyday but it was a easy pain to ignore. She glanced over at the couch a few feet away from her; the kid was passed out cold on it. He had obviously been exhausted and she had said she'd do first shift. She wasn't going to risk both of them falling asleep and one of those things possibly getting in. Or more than one, since they usually ran in herds.

The room was growing darker, the sunlight beginning to not stream inside anymore, and she sighed softly. She put her feet on the ground, letting the chair slam back into the wooden floor. Ash barely flinched; she didn't like that. In this world, you had to be alert, ready to jump up at a moment's notice. At least he kept his shoes on. Before she lost the light, she put her bolts up and readied her crossbow. She laid it on the table in front of her, in easy grab in case she needed it, and leaned back for a long night. She didn't plan on waking Ash. He had looked too tried, like he hadn't been sleeping well, and Joanna wasn't willing to travel with someone who wasn't alert and ready for anything.

Honestly, she could have kept going on her own. She wasn't sure where she was going; it was more just surviving. She didn't have a set location in her mind. She was just trying to live. She hadn't expected to be in a grocery store, crouched down behind shelving and searching for food, only for another survivor to enter. At first, she had thought about not coming out. She hadn't traveled with another person but that didn't mean she hadn't bumped in to others.

She had bumped into a group of four, at one point. She had traded three cans of food for a pack of cigarettes, which were gone now. She tried to not think about that often; she was craving cigarettes and it sucked she didn't have them. The group hadn't been harsh; shaken, sure. Wary, of course. But rude? No, they had actually been fairly nice

She had been surprised, admittedly. And she had realized that group was rare because the next group she had ran in to were not nice. They had tried to mug her. Well, one of the guys part of the group had tried. But she managed to get away, after pistol whipping him and even getting the crowbar he had hit her in the ribs with before fleeing. She still had a bruise on her ribs and it ached when she twisted or stretched a certain way. She still remembered the sudden burn and pain when she had jumped up to grab the ladder of the fire escape.

She wasn't sure how long ago that had happened but she knew the guy hadn't been alone. When she was running away, she had heard someone shout that wasn't the guy she had laid out on the ground. They were idiots, obviously; making so much noise with those things running around was asking to die. But when she had seen Ash, quietly shuffling through the shelves, she saw how young he was. He looked like he was only six or seventeen. He looked ran down, worn and tired, pale-faced and dark bags under his eyes. She shouldn't had cared. She should have just kept hidden and waited until he left.

She wasn't willing to trust him immediately. She wasn't going to step out and shake hands with the damn kid. She wanted to show him she could defend herself and that she would shoot if he tried anything. Or hit him with her crowbar. She had killed those things, for survival of course, but she hadn't killed a human... she had hurt that guy who had attacked her but killing? No. She wasn't sure if she could kill a human. It was bad enough those damn things use to be human. She didn't think about that often; she made herself not think about it often. She wanted to live and she wouldn't let her emotions get in the way of that.

The room was slowly draped into darkness, until she couldn't see a thing. Out of all the things she had found, she hadn't found a flashlight yet. She doubted the kid had one and wasn't going to wake him up. Instead, she let her eyes adjust the best they could and ran her hand along her crossbow, to reassure herself it was there. She glanced in the general direction of the couch and wondered what the hell she was doing with this kid. When she had first seen him, she thought maybe he could hold his own. After all, he was surviving this, so it was almost natural to think that.

But then she had pointed her crossbow at him and the way he held the gun... how the safety was still on... yeah, she realized that he couldn't hold his own and he had been floating along on luck this whole time. Maybe she was judging him too fast. But the way he attracted those things and almost got them killed... she thought she had every damn right to judge him.

She knew why she came out instead of staying tucked away in the corner, waiting for him to leave. She had been lonely. She had felt bad for the tired-looking kid. Those were the two main reasons. She hadn't had true company since the day it happened. The group of four, she could have went with them. But four people were too many, actually. That was more of a risk, in her opinion. She had moved on as soon as their trade was done. But Ash was one person. And he had looked like he was ready to fall flat on his face and sleep, no matter where he was. She wasn't surprised he had agreed when she said she'd take first shift, had fallen on the couch and been asleep in seconds. Maybe he felt more comfortable having someone watching over him, too.

She didn't really want to think of the reasons, though. Because now she was stuck with this kid. She had to train him, at least a little. He needed to be more aware of his surroundings, needed to learn to be properly threatening with that gun. She couldn't teach him how to actually shoot it. She wasn't stupid, they weren't going to fire off a shot. But they could do one with the magazine out and the chamber empty. That'd be okay. He needed to know how to aim, too.

She should be annoyed at all the things she'd have to teach this lucky boy. But actually, she was... okay with it. She wasn't sure how long it had been since all this happened but... company was nice and this was giving her something to do, other than surviving and thinking of everything she had lost. She reached up, beginning to twist the golden chain on her neck around her finger, the little golden heart barely noticeable as she twisted it around her finger and released it at a quick pace. She didn't even notice she was fiddling with the necklace as she stared into the darkness. She wasn't tired; she hadn't slept much before all this, knew she wouldn't now. So, she played with her mother's necklace and just waited for morning.

--

She waited for the sun to be higher in the sky before waking Ash. She didn't want him to sleep too much. He'd just be sluggish. She wandered over to the couch and paused; Ash's left arm was above his hand, his left hand hanging off the arm rest. From the sunlight streaming in, the silver ring on his left middle finger gleamed, catching her eye. She wondered briefly who gave it to him before deciding she didn't care. She shouldn't care. She didn't need to get too attached to the kid. She might want company but that didn't mean she wanted attachments. She had already lost too much.

"Hey." she said, kicking the couch hard enough to make it shift. Ash jerked, rolling to the side and nearly falling off the couch; he caught himself last minute and looked up with wide eyes before his shocked expression turned into a glare.

"Good morning to you, too." he snapped, leaning up and rubbing his face. He ran his fingers through his hair and blinked a few times. "Wait, you didn't wake me up...? I thought I was taking second shift?" he twisted his body to look up at Joanna.

Jo shrugged. "I was wide awake." she said, walking over and opening her backpack. "Let's see; we got beans or... beans for breakfast." she turned to him with two cans in her hands before tossing one to him. He caught it easily and she was glad he had good reflexes, at least. She walked over to him and held her hand out.

Ash was staring at the can and then noticed her outstretched hand, obviously wanting something. He looked up in confusion. "What?" he asked, not understanding what she wanted.

She made a sound like she was annoyed and rolled her eyes. "Give me ya damn knife. I've been havin' to use my damn crowbar to open cans and wastin' food while at it, too." she explained sharply, as if Ash should have known that. He began to reach for the knife in his backpack, which was propped against the couch, before pausing for a second. Joanna frowned. "I saved ya goddamn life and you ain't gonna give me a simple knife?"

Ash turned back to glare at her. "I would have made it out of there with or without you." he said defensively. Joanna was beginning to change her mind on this company. The kid was acting strange and she didn't like it. She was calling the shots because she knew what she was doing.

"Yeah, sure, okay. I believe ya. Now knife." she said, not in the mood for arguing. She'd kill for a steak or some ice cream right now. Beans was a food that should not be eaten everyday. But it was what she had, if she couldn't find a piece of fruit that was still good. Ash rolled his eyes but handed the knife over after that, not looking at her. She ignored his mood, setting the can down and using the knife to cut the top off. "Let me guess," she began slowly, popping the top off before handing the knife back to him, "Ya ain't a mornin' person?"

Ash's lips twitched slightly upward before he covered it up with a frown. "Not really." he said, using the knife to pop the top off of his own. Well, at least he knew that. Joanna was afraid she'd have to do that for him; maybe even feed him. She was seeing him as helpless and while she shouldn't be, she couldn't help it. After witnessing what she had, it was what she had pinned him as. She had always been like that, quick to judge and to keep judging.

She fell back into the chair and began to eat, not replying to him. They ate the beans in silence; she could tell Ash didn't enjoy eating with his fingers. Honestly, Joanna didn't care. It got food in her stomach. If she didn't have too, she wouldn't even eat. But she wasn't going to let herself pass out one day from an empty stomach. She worried more about water than anything, though. "Well," she said, setting the empty can on the table and wiping her fingers on her jeans, "I'm gonna show you how to load, reload, make sure the safety is off, and aim and then we can move on."

Ash nodded and grew quiet a few seconds, obviously in thought as he set his can aside and wiped his fingers on the couch. "Where too?" he finally asked, looking over at Joanna. She stared at him for a few seconds before shrugging and standing up.

It was a reasonable question. But like hell she knew the answer to it. She didn't believe there was anywhere safe. The military had fallen early on, she wouldn't be surprised if safety areas they had set up had fallen too. She wasn't even sure where to look for those and so, she was just going where she felt like. "Hell if I know. Somewhere with more food? Now c'mon, let's get this over with."

It didn't long for Ash to grasp the basic concept of a gun. Actually, it surprised Joanna, how quickly he caught on and got it. How quickly he slipped the magazine inside and cocked a bullet into the chamber. She didn't show the surprise though. She realized she had underestimated him. He was smart. He was adaptable and that, that she could work with. After they were done, she decided it was time to move on. While the sun was still bright, she wanted to find some more food.

"We aren't going to practice anymore?" Ash asked while Joanna opened the window. It barely squeaked but when it did a little, it made her grit her teeth. The smallest noise could be a death sentence these days.

"Nah. You're good." she said before she slipped outside, onto the fire escape. She didn't want to talk about it. She wasn't good at handing out compliments and so she didn't want to say why they finished so quickly. She honestly expected it to take half the day, to get him to get pretty good at using the gun. And even, using a gun took practice, took time to really grasp and use well. She hadn't expected him to be an expert by the end of this little training session. And he wasn't but he was better than she had expected.

They went to the bottom of the fire escape and Joanna frowned when she saw the ladder was pulled back up. It'd make a lot of noise once it was let down. She wasn't willing to go through the apartment complex, though. She liked being able to see what she was dealing with, liked seeing more open surroundings. Hanging around in Dallas wasn't doing her any good but she found food a lot easier. She glanced back at Ash and shouldered her crossbow. "Move fast and quiet," she told him before letting the ladder drop.

It crashed loudly against the ground and she was going down the instant it hit. She hit the ground jogging and Ash was right on her heels. The kid could move and that was a good thing. She went behind the apartment complex, glad to see none of those things, and kept moving quickly. She didn't want to risk being near the area if any of them popped up. She slowed her pace once they ran behind another building and began to move slower, crossbow out, and in more of a crouch. Ash mirrored her, she noticed, and she was beginning to like his company more and more. She peeked around the corner, seeing none of those things, and began to move across the street. She wasn't exactly sure where she was going. There was a clothing store down the street, what looked like a deli shop. She ducked behind a car, front of it twisted around a street pole, and waited for Ash to join her. "Wanna try for that deli shop?" she asked, motioning down the street to it.

From what she could tell, the windows looked to be intact. Maybe there was still food inside. "Sure." Ash replied, eyeing the street around them. He kept an eye out, she noticed, he just needed to be more careful. Maybe it wasn't just luck this kid had been floating on; he still had to learn some stuff, though. She nodded, not saying anything else, and began to move down the street towards the shop, Ash following her closely with his knife out and ready, gun in reach too.

[StarWight]

PO1 Ethan Ryder

Ethan knew the second he knocked on the door that someone was inside. He heard hushed voices--so muffled that he couldn’t make out whether they were male or female. He also heard rustling from inside the room, and he felt a growing discomfort at the situation. His grip tightened on his Mk.23, and he pressed a button activating the laser sight. If shit was going to go down, he’d be ready. Technically he didn’t need the laser sight for accuracy; but there was the clear psychological impact of seeing that tiny red dot lined up with your heart that made most people think twice. And the ones that didn’t were usually the ones that the world didn’t have to worry about anymore.

He waited a few minutes longer, hearing the shuffling, his heart beginning to pound with each stray moment. What it was some sort of bandits, people taking advantage of and praying on those just trying to survive? Even prepared as he was, however, he was caught offguard by the sheer suddenness of the door springing open. Before he could even bring his weapon up to even start aiming, he felt someone grab his arm and yank him inside, slamming the door behind him. Spinning around, he saw someone several inches taller than he was shove a sofa in front of the door. Oh fuck, what did I just get myself into? Ethan thought, his eyes quickly adjusting to the pale moonlight shining through the windows. While he couldn’t make out the face of the person who pulled him through the doorway, Ethan did recognize the slender body and features of a female. Obviously she wasn’t a walker either, or she’d have attacked him by now.

Maybe he was distracted by the shadow of the girl in front of him, or maybe his emotions were running so high that he wasn’t quite on guard as he usually was. But too late did he hear the rustling of someone else in the room, too late did he hear the light spray of an aerosol can, and too late did he realize that he was now facing two people, one armed with a make-shift flamethrower. At the sound and bright light of flame, Ethan spun around, raising his pistol only to feel fire lick at his uniform--and he quickly leapt back just out of reach; though his knuckles burned from the searing heat. He might’ve fired then, but something held him back--he was staring into the face of a not quite adult woman. She was late teens at best, and a fiery look in her eyes that as arguably hotter than the flames bursting from her improvised weapon.

“Drop your gun you motherfucker.” He heard the girl order. He arched an eyebrow as he stared--UP he noted to himself--into her eyes. She was serious. The girl would easily fry him into a crispy critter if he didn’t put his weapon away. At the same time he was loathe to do so, given the circumstances. He was about to respond when the other girl held up her hand. She called the Human Flamethrower over there “Millie.” He listened for a few minutes, as the two girls--who, now that he got a good look at their faces with the sudden brightness from the flames, were clearly twin sisters--argued about him. First time I’ve had girls arguing over me, he thought sardonically, a slight smile crossing his face. He noted the irony that they were essentially deciding whether or not to torch his ass. The girl Millie, however, kept telling him to drop his gun. All things considered, Ethan decided it might be for the best. Besides, even if he dropped his pistol, he still had his survival knife in the leg of his boot--maybe they failed to notice it. He very slowly began to raise his hands, but then the other girl stepped between them. “Forgive my sister. We don’t want any trouble. Were you followed?””

He blinked, now not quite sure *what* to do. Deciding a compromise was fair, he quickly holstered the Mk22, and held both his gloved hands forward. ”No, I wasn’t followed. If I was, think I’d have wasted my time knocking on the door? Even I’m not that stupid.” He offered a wry smile, gazing the unnamed twin in the eyes for a moment. Then he sidestepped her, to get a good look at the other. ”Millie right? Heard your sister here use that name. Nice job there, you’re an improviser. I like that.” He grinned again, then pointed to the other girl who stood between them. ”Your sister here is wrong about one thing though. I’m not Army. I’m Navy; a SEAL to be exact. I’m Petty Officer Ethan Ryder, in case you missed it with all the excitement. And believe me, I ain’t here to hurt you. Only thing I wanna hurt are these fucking shufflers.” He took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He didn’t break eye contact with Millie, and he kept his hands at head level, so that she could see he was holding no weapons. ”Look, my team...we were overrun the other day. Went to land at a FEMA camp, and the place was swarming with walkers. Far as I know, I’m the only one that made it out. I lost my team, my best fucking friend, I’m tired as shit, and I goddamn need a break. If you’re willing to let me stay, I’ll help out with security if you need it. I don’t look like much, but I’m a pretty good shot.” He hoped his attempt at humor would win the girl over--or his story would make her see he wasn’t a threat to her. He needed to win Millie’s trust if he was to stay here tonight; he hoped he could pull it off.

---

Elendria Price

Elendria’s eyes opened, her tear stained cheeks red, eyes bloodshot and glossy. Crying always made her eyes even more beautiful than they normally were, setting them aglow like the radiant blue flames of a fire burning hot. And that matched her feelings now, the burning in her heart and soul. She’d lost everything. All gone, dead. Her mother, her father….but what of her friend? Her best friend, Tess!!! Eyes shooting open, Elendria knew what she had to do. With her parents dead, maybe she could connect with the one person she had left in this world. The girl she shared everything with, the girl who trusted her with everything too. They were beyond friends, they shared a connection that few ever had the chance to experience.

There was nothing for her here now. Elendria walked back into the bedroom, looking at her fallen parents, tears once more stinging her eyes. Sniffing, clutching her temples in her hands, she looked around for the pistol she’d dropped after fleeing to the bathroom. And sure enough, there it was, a few feet away from her father. Gingerly stepping around his bloody corpse, she grabbed the weapon, then rifled through the drawer for the spare boxes of ammunition he’d kept. She made to leave the room, but paused at the door, turning around and gazing at her parent’s. Swallowing hard, she whispered, her voice coming out a low croak, ”Goodbye mom...dad. I love you...always and forever.”

Blinking back another wave of tears and an impending breakdown she made her way into the living room, grabbing the backpack she’d slung on the couch. She went through the house, grabbing what she thought would be useful. In the kitchen she found an old thermos that she filled with water, and searched the cupboards for food. All she really found was a few protein bars and some beef jerky which she readily took, throwing them into her backpack. Moving through the house, she also took up a map of the Gatesville area, and an emergency flashlight--a big heavy Maglite that her dad swore by. Slinging the backpack over her shoulder and tucking the gun into the back of her jeans, Elendria opened the front door and stepped outside. Moving forward, she looked across the street towards Tess’ house. Taking in a deep breath, the headed down the street, to her best friends front door and pounded on it, banging with the underside of her fist. “Hello? Tess, are you there? TESS?” she screamed as loud as she could. There was no answer. She tried ringing the doorbell, and again--no answer. A sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Elendria twisted the doorknob, pushing the door open and stepped into the living room.

It was a mess. The couch was overturned, table tipped over, TV smashed on the floor. Blood stained the floor, the coppery odor filling the air, making Elendria want to gag. Hesitantly she stepped forward, reaching behind her and grasping the handle of her gun with her right hand and calling out in a shaky, trembling voice ”Tess? Tess, it’s me Elendria...are you here?” She was answered only by silence. Creeping forward, she peered behind the couch. More blood--and Tess’ father, throat ripped out. She brought her hand up to her mouth, eyes widening in horror, and stumbled backwards. And then she heard it. A noise from the stairway. She spun around, and there was Tess. Covered in those red boils, several of them oozing blood and puss. Her face, her once beautiful face was now pale and sickly, pale blue eyes glossed over and dull. Her mouth was curved into a perpetual grimace, and there were several gunshot wounds in her chest; she could see this from the torn blouse. Her jeans were ripped, one shoe was missing, a deep gash was sliced across her cheek. And there was no life in those eyes; they were empty, devoid. “TESS!!!!” Elendria screamed. She was on the verge of breaking down again, her eyes filling with tears, and now she saw Tess in double as the person who was her best friend lunged forward. Blinking rapidly, she drew the gun she was still clutching, firing the glock several times at Tess’ head. Someone had obviously shot her in the chest before, and it did nothing--but she remembered how her father had been killed. he’d been hit by a shot to the head. So that was where she’d aim this time. She squeezed the trigger, once, twice, three times. The first shot veered left, slamming into the wall, the second to the right striking the banister. But the third shot hit home, right through the eye, blowing out the back of Tess’ head and sending her body cartwheeling down the last few stairs and smashing into the ground.

Elendria ran. She didn’t stop until she was outside and several feet down the road. She was screaming, much to her surprise. She’d been screaming and hadn’t realized it. She stopped then, sucking in deep mouthfulls of air, her heart pounding, her head hurting, and emotionally broken. She took several moments to collect herself, then decided she had to leave. There was nothing for her in this place. She had a map of Gatesville and the surrounding area in her backpack--but for now, she just needed to go somewhere. Anywhere, it didn’t matter as long as it wasn’t right here, right now. She started slowly walking down the street and then stopped, casting one last look over her shoulder. With a silent goodbye to her family and to Tess, she turned her gaze back ahead, adjusted her pack on her shoulder, and walked down the lonely road. She didn’t spare another look back.

[FiroIV]

HOLLY

After some serious deliberation, Holly finally made her move before sunrise. She left the house that she was occupying to watch the next town and moved as quickly as she could. There were a few creatures on the road so stuck to the fields, and since there was a three-foot barbwire fence on it she was relatively safe.The pace was relatively slow to avoid making any unnecessary sounds or attracting any creatures, b but she eventually got there. It took her about half an hour since she was moving slowly, but it was half an hour that she could take out of her day. Once she got through the field and onto the shade of the next town, she realized just how bad of an idea it was to go near the town.

Crossing, the field discovered an ungodly amount of creatures in the area, it was not too bad, but considering the general low activity in the area this was bad, very, very bad. . From what she could see from her crouched up position behind a tree there were at least a dozen of those thing roaming around. From what she remembered of the map her uncle’s place was on the street right around the corner. His uncle’s place also happened to be where those creatures were concentrating on for some reason. Sighing as quietly as possible, she inched herself closer and closer to a better position. “How the hell am I gonna get there now.” She silently screamed in her mind.

CHRIS

His first attempt at doing anything other than hiding and he was already failing like the loser that he thought he was. What he wanted was to distract the handful of those things outside using a large stone he picked up from the backyard to throw to the Rice’s glass window. What he got was a horde of creatures suddenly appearing out of nowhere making everything worse for him.

It sucked and it was horrible, but he already began and there was no way he could try again since there weren’t any other windows for him to break that would cause a large enough distraction. It was now or never, and now was when he started to feel like crap.

From his own backyard he’d been slowly moving a large stool to use as leverage. It worked, but the moment he got to the other side the stool fell over. “That’s bad,” he said quietly. He didn’t linger on that thought for a while since the loud noises coming from those creature’s noise was kept him sharp. He moved as fast as he can towards the back door and realized that he forgot to factor in the fact that the door could have been locked and as his luck would have it, it was. “Fuck” he cursed.

HOLLY

After using various distraction methods to move past the creatures Holly moved as fast as she could to her uncle’s place. She hoped that they were there or left some sort of clue or maybe the place was safe so she could at least gather some equipment. Holly was too smart for that kind of optimism though. She was also too smart to use the main streets for moving since those things were bound to notice her. What she did was move towards her uncle’s place as slowly as she could and as close to the houses as much as she could. This way if those things noticed her she’d just hop on over to their lawns and hide.

Holly’s impromptu plan was working though. She was slowly moving and creeping as close as she can to her uncle’s place. The plan was working well enough that she realized just how much she hated this plan because of this effectiveness. Low leveled optimism aside she figured that maybe those creatures were juts gathering near her uncle’s place, but no she was wrong. Not only were those creatures near the house those creatures were attacking their house. “Might as well continue” she said to herself quietly.

CHRIS

The moment he forgot to factor in the whole door being locked he pretty much doomed himself like a series of dominos falling over. To fix the locked door he did something stupid, he broke the door in using pall his strength. His strength wasn’t enough so the door broke, but only after severely hurting his shoulder and making a lot of noise. The moment he got inside he moved towards the window and noticed that some of those things were walking towards the house.

The moment he saw one of those things look at him from the window he ducked and moved back until his back was hitting the wall. He was too scared to move and explore the house, let alone loot the house for supplied like he planned. From the corner of his eye, he could see those things from the open window. “I’m dead. I’m genuinely dead. I am so dead.” He said without even bothering to lower his voice.

[Dioxide]

Millie’s face contorted in a grimace and raised eyebrows, a determined act of aggression and protection simultaneously against a stranger in a time unclear and chaotic.

While Millie was concerned with the situation at hand, and focused her logic with the Navy SEAL soldier, Allie began to think macro. In a time of desperation Allie chose to think long-term and broad. Perhaps a quick overview in a sociological approach would be beneficial to the judgement of the predicament presented to the both of them. Allie wanted to be a politician one day, and that required empathy and orientation to knowledge on a grand, reactive and dynamic scale. This meant she was capable of observing, deducing and hypothesizing many things, in almost an instant. She was a brilliant student, and shame on the people who teased her for focus on academia: it sure was coming in handy now. Allie looked at Millie, and spoke in Cantonese:

A: ‘’佢信得過既’’ "We can trust him."

M: ‘’你點知呀?’’ "How do you know?"

A: ‘’冇得解 , 信就係信。佢把聲同佢啲動作唔表示啲咩。佢個故仔又好似真既。你頭先有冇聽佢講佢個朋友’’ "I just do. His voice and body movements do not indicate anything. And his story seems fine. Didn't you hear the way he talked about his friend?"

M: ‘’喂其實佢可能係扮架喎” "He could be faking it, you know?’’

A: ‘’如果佢岩岩冇左個朋友,又自已一個人泥,我唔覺得佢會囉。佢只係同我地一樣甘驚, 唔知自己做緊乜。我地將佢擺係另一間房,再反鎖佢。其他野聽朝先算啦。我好攰啦細妺’’ "I don't think he would if he just lost his friend and came here alone. He's about as disorganized and scared as we are. Look, we can put him in one of the other rooms, and lock him in from the outside. Then we'll sort it out in the morning. I'm tired, sis'"

M: ‘’好.但如果佢做啲奇怪野,佢一定唔可以留係度。我地既安全係最緊要既, 家姐。’’ "Fine. But if he does anything weird, I won't hesitate to let him go. I only want us to be safe, sis."

A: ‘’我知呀細妺,我真係知架.’’ "I know, sis. I do, too."

Allie turned her attention back to soldier - Millie had then just lowered her makeshift weapon:

A: “You can stay, aye. But we’re locking you in a room, just to be safe. No, we won’t leave you; that’d be illogical. Why don’t we just rest for tonight?”

Millie continued, as if the trail of thought passed on to her through the air:

M: “We can discuss what happens then. That is, of course, if you want to stay. That room over there shall be your prison for tonight.”

A: “Accommodation, Millie. I’m Allie by the way - nice to meet you, Petty Officer Ethan Ryder. Now if you don’t mind, I believe I see a room where we can have you stay for the night. We can sleep out here.” She looked back to Millie, as if to confirm the decision with her. Millie gave no expression or utterance, but Allie knew she agreed.