[IC] The Walking Dead: To Greener Pastures

[FortunesFaded]

Desmond Williams

When the brunette woman admitted her loss to the group, Desmond momentarily lost his sense of urgency, replaced by a feeling of condolence. He looked around the room at the six others; all had taken different paths to where they stood now -- all had likely faced the loss of someone close. But this loss was so fresh, and real, at least to her.
"I'm sorry, Sarah," he spoke, maintaining eye contact. "For your loss. I know I'm just a stranger to you, but I mean every word." While it was true, he felt sympathy for the woman, it had been a long time since Desmond truly cared for anyone on Earth. His line between cordiality and companionship was about as wide as the English channel, and he'd since given up on trying to bridge the gap. He could have friends by his side, but as long as they remain just that, Desmond wouldn't be shaken up when, one day, they were gone.

The afternoon trudged on, and soon it would start getting dark. Desmond knew that they needed to leave: before it got too dark to travel, or any more corpses showed up. The first problem was that they were no group yet: nobody trusted anybody, really. Sure, Desmond trusted the woman he'd been traveling with up until the apartment, and it looked like Sarah trusted the soldier, but getting all of them to travel together? To watch each other's backs instead of their own? It was going to be tough. The second problem was that he simply had no idea where they were going. His partner mentioned 8th Street and he nodded, unfamiliar with the town as a whole but relieved at the discovery of a destination.
"Well, 8th Street sounds like as good a destination as any. I suppose, that's where we're going," he gestured to himself and his partner, whose name he still didn't have the slightest clue about. "Either our paths diverge here, or we can all travel together. But I know that today has been my first time seeing a friendly face -- let alone six -- in over a week. If we do split up, how much longer until we see another? So, let's decide here and now. Are we just a bunch of passing strangers, or are we a group?"

[FallenTrinity]

He looked at the group and sighed. Everyone was introducing themselves and when it came time for him he shook his head if only subtly. "Might as well introduce myself since we're all going to be together in this for awhile. My name is Captain Johnathan Krueger of the United States Naval Special Forces." He his rifle hung from its sling as he shrugged. "It's pointless for me to talk about my problems with you all because I don't know you yet and at the same time I truly don't know how long I'll be in this group. I had plans to go towards the mountains but that idea was snuffed when Anna here came along. Also when I heard about this place I even doubted the fact Wilmington even had a sanctuary after-" He let out a trebling breath through his nose. "Everyone is proven wrong from time to time."

He glanced around the room and took note of the extra group of people. Sarah, who reminded him of what would have been his soon-to-be, gave him that empty feeling in his stomach. He brought his tongue along his lips to moisten them before he took out a cigarette from his front pocket and lit one up.

[Wade Wilson]

Todd rubbed the back of his neck, speaking in his muffled British accent.

"Well, Mr.- uh, whatever your name is. Anyway, it all sounds lovely, and I'm completely up for it, but our little "group" seems to be declining. Unless you don't want a hunking, muscular professional football- I mean, soccer- player in the group. If that's the case, your judgement sucks and you suck."

He gestured towards the football player who had walked out the door, followed by the blonde Australian. He was happy to see that whoever this man was, he was pretty friendly, and the idea of a group sounded a lot more pleasing than walking from here to Philadelphia again. Besides, it was the zombie apocalypse! It was only fitting to follow the custom.

[McHaggis]

.

[ChronoBovino]

Sam~

Sam was tripping over curbs and coughing. He felt so dehydrated, he could barely run. He was outside 8th Street, there had to be someone in Wilmington, there had to. He called out for "Help!". It was painful to even shout. He held his chest tightly the pain made him think back to cross country, when he was 10. They he came second and his family celebrated with a Chinese. And when he thought back to that he forgot the apocalypse for a minute.....

But somethings don't last.

He shook his head and wiped the sweat from his brow, he wanted to call out again but he just started wheezing on a wall outside 8th street.

[FortunesFaded]

~ Time Skip: 30 Minutes ~

Douglas Knowles

The first few minutes following the newcomers' entrance to the safehouse consisted primarily of rough introductions. The trio met 8th Street's other two residents, Ron and Patricia. Patty was her usual friendly self to the guys and gal; Ron gave a civil introduction, then made a quick retreat back to the rooftop. After that, Doug set about giving the group a tour of the facility. It wasn't much: the first floor was usable, but empty; the second floor was a common room of sorts, with a couple tables, couches, the radio system, and storage. Finally, the third floor was their living quarters. They had more than enough room for the three of them, in fact they likely could fit about a dozen or so, but any more and they'd need to find somewhere larger.

Just then, as if on cue, a small convoy -- two bikes flanking a car -- arrived on the street. All vehicles were pretty much packed, about six or seven in all. Doug furrowed his brow, unsure if the party was friend or foe. He was leaning toward optimism, however, and resolved to go check the group out. He nodded to Omar, who picked up a glock from storage and slid it into his back pocket, but otherwise kept his pleasant demeanor. Better safe than sorry, even with Ron on lookout. Doug looked over at the soldier, John, and nodded to him.
"Captain, mind coming with us to greet the new arrivals?" He asked. "I wouldn't mind a Navy Seal watching my back."

[FallenTrinity]

John looked around the building. It was quite a decent setup for what they were able to do in these now dark times. It was when they were brought into the room that would be their quarters that he had heard a sound, a faint sound. A rumbling that was very close to the sound of motorcycles. He moved over to the window and saw vehicles moving up the street. He brought his rifle up and began to mumble. "Seven unknown; two bikes, car in between and then some followers. Six in all." He looked over at Doug as he assumed he heard them as well.

Doug looked over at the soldier, John, and nodded to him. "Captain, mind coming with us to greet the new arrivals?" He asked. "I wouldn't mind a Navy Seal watching my back." John gave a quick smirk before he flipped the selection on his gun to burst and nodded. "Sounds fine."

[DELETED08734]

"I'll love you forever, even after you're dead"

Sarah found it hard to remain focused on what Hunter was saying. God bless him. He sure could talk and fill an empty silence with ease. She thought back to the apartment and the kind words of Desmond, and the further introductions of the other people including Captain Johnathan Krueger...who's gaze made her slightly uncomfortable. There was the young boy who seemed humorous considering the bleak situation. They had all decided that 8th street was their best option and would leave just before dark to make the journey, seeing as the location wasn't to far away. "He must have been a pretty awesome guy to have been with someone like you. I wish I had gotten the chance to meet him before all this happened." She was silent for a long moment after Hunter said this. Her voice wavered as she spoke. "Yes...he was pretty amazing.

TIME SKIP

The car ride mainly consisted of a long awkward silence between the collaboration of strangers along with anticipation of what they all would find at the safe house. Sarah was consumed with painful memories of her husband as well as what little conversations she had exchanged with the people who had happened upon her happy little dwelling. She also forced herself to concentrate on driving and navigating the streets of abandoned vehicles and walkers because she didn't want to ruin her precious Camaro which had been the most recent gift from her husband. Strangely, the group didn't come across a horde as they completed the drive to 8th street. The group slowed, and Sarah down shifted smoothly then idled for a moment as they observed what looked like to be a heavily guarded military barrier. She turned off the car and stepped out slowly from her car, and expected the others to do as well. She was certain these individuals of the safe house were going to inspect the group before just letting them through the gate.

A soft cry for helped sounded and Sarah turned quickly, her light blue eyes focusing on what looked like to be a younger kid who had fallen near a wall just down the street.@ChronoBovino She glanced around for walkers, but didn't see any and left her weapon holstered. She approached the kid quickly and knelt beside him and quickly took notice of his wheezing. She assumed he was having an asthma attack and immediately thought to the Symbicort inhaler that she had in her bag of medical supplies. She also had a methylprednisolone injection but that would only be for extreme emergencies. Perhaps it was stress-induced and she could try to help him slow his breathing. She spoke kindly as she looked down at him. "Hello there. My name is Sarah and I can help you. Let's try to slow your breathing ok? Take a deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth." She hoped it would work at least enough for her to get him over to the car to use the inhaler if needed.

[Exit]

C H A S E
University of Delaware Downtown Center
Wilmington, Delaware
---x---

It was thirty minutes of splotched conversations, of vague memories shared between men and women and fuzzy dreams of the future. Chase spent those thirty minutes listening, compiling, understanding and then moving on. It was in his nature to pay attention to the stories of others, he'd spent an entire lifetime doing it and perfecting it. Or perhaps he was just very good at faking it. When the conversations stopped and his mind was left to wander, he'd realized he couldn't readily remember what any of them had said. He was too focused on getting in, getting what he needed and getting out. He wasn't supposed to stick around long enough for any of these people to matter and yet here he was... for half an hour.

And now he was standing in his own room. His own. Four walls, a roof, a window and flooring covered in the thinnest layer of dust he'd seen in a long time. They'd just given it to him, a temporary shelter for a man that learned to live without one. Surrounded by four solid walls, there was no chilling wind to crawl up his spine and whisper in his ear, no feral sounds calling to him in the darkness, no... danger. It was silent and warm and safe. It was foreign. The air was stagnant and dead and carried no warning of the threats around the next corner or the opportunities over the next hill. In this room, the senses he'd learn to rely on were dulled, near useless. He was safe but at the same time, he didn't feel like it. He needed to move. He needed the freedom he'd become accustomed too. It was one of the reasons he was a-

...Shhhh...

Chase blinked. The silence... it driving him mad, making him think too much or too loud. He had to keep himself busy. Keep himself focused. Create noise but only just so.

Chase shut the door behind him and got to work on stripping himself of his gear. If he was going to be here for a while he might as well make himself comfortable. The backpack was the first to come off. It fell to the ground with a heavy thud and tipped over on it's side letting some of the contents slip out. His jacket followed soon after and as he began to peel away the outermost layer, he could feel the cooler air push through the others and find him. A sheen of sweat became cool beads against his skin. It was the middle of summer and it was easily 80 degrees inside. As he dug through each layer of clothing, he only found more relief until at last he was half naked, a well formed upper body exposed to the elements... of stagnant air. He'd taken good care of himself out of necessity, save for the few scars cut into his chest.

He began pulling on the belt around his waist when the sound of an engine... a few engines disturbed his stifling peace. Chase moved to the window and caught two bikes and a car pulling up to the safehouse.

"Shit."

From where he was standing, he couldn't get a proper head count but he knew whatever the number, it was more than what he was comfortable with. His previous fears, the ones he'd try to push back in this moment of good fortune, was coming back to haunt him. He knew other people had picked up the broadcast and now here they were at the front door and in force. He watched as Doug and Omar went into the street to greet them. The two were joined by John, their now resident Navy man. However Chase knew it was impossible to know what they wanted without putting someone at risk. The issue wasn't with the dead. They were easy. It was the living who were unpredictable. They were smart and cunning and quiet. It was a chore trying to weed out the good from the bad and deal with each accordingly.

"Should have just stuck with the plan Chase." He berated himself for his third lapse in judgement of the day. He was going on a record now and one he hoped to break. "Should have been gone already and you wouldn't be stuck in this building with all these people." Chase grabbed his backpack and fished around for the radio he'd stuffed inside. He noted the channel of the safehouse and then switched to another out of habit as he opened the door and made his way down to the first floor. With his mind occupied and his thumb pressing the talk button in a series of slow and deliberate clicks, Chase would reach the front door having forgotten he was shirtless.

[Wade Wilson]

The Apartment Group
110 E 8th St
Wilmington, Delaware

The trip to 8th Street hadn't been easy on the kid. He was sat in a car full of strangers, fast asleep, possibly drooling on poor Sarah. At least he got to sit in the front (after being confused yet again by American car layouts). He was sure Sarah had gently gotten out of the car when they stopped, making sure not to wake him. Either way, he didn't wake up. Not for a while. Not until the rest of the group had gotten out of the car, and he'd been prodded.

After staring down at the small damp patch on the seat, and apologising to Sarah telapathically, he crawled out of the car. He didn't do much after that, except lay on the pavement and hope to god he wasn't sick. All he wanted to do was sleep more. He just wanted sleep.

[Shoe Thief]

Hunter Monroe

Hunter sat awkwardly in the car for what seemed like forever. He was sitting around people he didn't really know, with a fully automatic rifle pointed upward in his lap. A position he was not really fond of. Especially since he knew the rifle was loaded, in a normal situation he would have taken out the magazine, but then he had to worry about something going wrong on the trip, so he left the gun loaded in his lap, doing everything possible to make sure it was not pointed at anyone. What was less then comfortable was his satchel on his lap filled with a bunch of loose items, and now his sawed off shotgun, no longer sitting in his back pack. This was the same issue, he wanted it ready in case, though that one was a bit harder to avoid pointing at people, so he left it unloaded. Loading it wouldn't take too long if it came to it.

As they pulled up to what Hunter believed to be the safe house, he got an uneasy feeling in his stomach. He had been searching for a new safe place ever since his position had fallen, now that he was actually at a new position he was scared, scared that it was going to end like last time. Hunter got out of the car with his rifle in hands, and his satchel over his shoulder. He noticed a few things when he got out. One) A team of people from said safe house was already moving in on his and his "Group". Two) Sarah just went off to go check on a new person. Three) One of them was carrying an assault rifle, and Hunter could tell he knew how to use it by how he walked with it.

Hunter moved his way to Sarah @CandiBarr and the person she was with @ChronoBovino. He held his rifle with one hand, well tapping Sarah with the other. He made sure to keep his eyes on the people from the "Safe house". "Sarah? Keep your guard up. No idea what will happen here." He looked for a quick moment to the new guy, wasn't sure what to think. What he saw was someone scared, someone alone. He could do nothing, or could be a big problem. Hunter hated being in a situation like this. Not knowing anything.

[ChronoBovino]

Sam~

Sam was so dehydrated he wasn't even scared of this Sarah. He did as she said as if he WAS a child who just did cross country, he whispered to himself "Nose, mouth, nose..." he pushed his body of the wall and looked at the man with the gun then the woman, still huffing he said"Sam, m-my names Sam…… Do You have any water"

Maybe he shouldn't of asked these new people they might have thought he was needy, couldn't pull his weight they would leave him for De- He was overthinking. Before they answer he nodded his head to the boy on the pavement. He was to tired to talk, but the way he nodded you could assume he said.

"What's with him"

[Pirouette]

A Dance with Death: The Pas de Corps

---

Despite hardly knowing each other, it was touching that John was already slotting into the role of a protector. He was quickly filling a void that was created when Carl had met his untimely end. The thought of safety and John's 'pep talk' right outside the station put a very anxious Ana at ease, perhaps too. Once inside, Ana's posture changed and she looked comfortable. A small collection of survivors had gathered it seemed and Ana took stock of what she thought might be her long-term roommates. They all looked fairly inviting at a first glance, save for the other newcomer. Chase. The man looked rough around the edges, bearing dirt and scars which contrasted John quite a bit. He looked like the very image that Carl had tried to paint in Ana's head when referencing criminals and Ana noticeably stiffened in her apprehension as the man first spoke to her. She forced herself to relax, plastering a friendly smile on her face, but never found the words for her reply.

A muffled rifle shot would sound out, causing Ana to glance around the room nervously but nobody seemed too alarmed. She ask what it could have meant or otherwise, because she was probably the least experienced in the room when it came to that judgement.

---

After some stiff introductions and brief conversation, Ana was given a tour by the seemingly friendly Douglas, who seemed to be in charge here. The place was... well it wasn't up to Ana's still preserved standards of fine living, but she kept the comments to herself. It was a funny thing but Ana had secretly been hoping for a more 'homely' place to settle down in and not a makeshift home in a office or whatever it was. Of course she was still grateful that she had finally kind of found parts of the world she had forgotten, namely other people. Ana was already passively imaging the scenario were life would kind of return to normal and nothing bad would happen.

At some point in the tour, their tour leader noted that more arrivals were coming, or rather, had arrived. Ana had just started to become satisfied with the number they had and now more of them were coming? She didn't know exactly how to process it, but the others seemed comfortable enough to walk out there. It didn't help put Ana's worries entirely out of her mind, though. But again, she was more than satisfied with the others handling it while she remained safe inside.

The three men barged out to greet the newcomers while Ana waited by the front door, anxiously trying to listen in and know what is going on. She was so focused that she didn't notice that Chase, who was noticeably absent during the tour, was headed for the door. He startled Ana, causing her to jump a bit, as he sort of unexpectedly appeared. Stranger still, he had removed his shirt. His 'odd' behavior didn't go unnoticed and Ana clutched her sidearm tightly in her hand, reassuring her. It took a bit of encouragement, but she managed to find her voice again. "Err, what are you doing?" Ana inquired right as the man reached the door. While waiting for his reply, she had taken a step back as if prepared to flee the worst of what her imagination had come up.

[Exit]

C H A S E
University of Delaware Downtown Center
Wilmington, Delaware
@Pirouette
---x---

...Chase...

He shook his head and kept walking. The door was only a dozen feet away and he knew the open air and the heat of the sun would clear his mind.

...Chase...Stop...

"Shut up..." He muttered under his breath. He closed his eyes and kept clicking the radio. Handful of steps now.

"Err, what are you doing?"

His eyes snapped open and he froze. It was the second time within the hour that someone had caught him off guard and this time it wasn't John but the woman he'd been traveling with. The blonde with brown eyes. He'd glanced her over during their initial introductions. She was a smaller woman, a thin frame donning a patchwork of different articles of clothing all of which didn't quite match and the few articles of police gear. She was ever flanked by the Navy... except for now.

Chase blinked as his mind caught up with itself. He realized he was just standing there in front of this woman not more than five feet from the door. Outside, they could both see the new arrivals filing out of their vehicles and the trio that had moved to greet them. He was sure that if they tried, they could see him too. Sunlight pierced through the glass of the doors and pushed between planks of wood nailed into the frame. White light threw itself across Ana's face, splashed against her hair turning it to gold... and then a faded yellow when she took a step back and into the shadows. His portrait disturbed, his eyes fell to her shoulder and followed the length of her arm down to the gun in her hand. She was gripping it, rather tight.

"Am-" A name caught in his throat. He cleared it. Ana right?" He looked up at her and found her eyes, breaking into a smile and shaking his head. "Sorry I uh... I was just going to check out the new arrivals. I make it a habit to know who I'm surrounding myself with." As he finished his eyes returned to the gun. Her light complexion couldn't hide the white knuckled grip she had around the thing. It put him on edge if only because he wasn't entirely sure she knew how to handle a weapon. Sure she had the cruiser outside and maybe the pistol was one issued to an officer, he just didn't know if she was the officer.

He nodded toward her, toward the gun. "Like you." He paused putting some space between himself and a blank guess. "Police?" He asked, looking at her again. He already knew her answer to be some form of a no. That wasn't important. He just wanted to get her mind off whatever it was making her so nervous.

[Foster]

From page 4

@Foster@Love Me Dead

The man accepted Patrick's handshake as he introduced himself as William Taggart from Wisconsin. As the little girl and William got inside the house, Patrick followed them as he took one more look behind at the street which was awfully quiet. Once he was inside the house he made himself confortable on an armchair and started eyeballing William's rifle. "Nice Mosin." He said while changing his view towards William. "My father used to have one of those too. Bought it for one hundred bucks fifteen years ago. It's probably still somewhere back home. I only took this revolver when I left Miami. The kukri I took from a half eaten dead guy's hand." He said smiling as he looked down, rubbed his beard and looked back at William.

@LPFan

Gabel Wester

Gabel closed the window and relocked it before following them. She took a seat at the kitchen table being able to see them from there. She frowned a bit when Patrick stepped on the pillows she had all over the floor with his shoes. She just started coloring with her crayons on one of the papers she had on the table. The house looked as if she'd been alone for awhile. It was true, her dad had turned a week ago locking himself in the bathroom. He hadn't had the guts to shoot himself while he was in there. She stopped for a moment and opened up her water bottle and took a drink. She smiled to herself, she was secretly pretending they weren't there and to her it was the funniest thing.

She looked back as she heard the scratching on the bathroom door before giving off a small sigh going back to her drawing. She was drawing her mom, maybe one of these guys had seen her? She was actually pretty happy to have some company even if they were strangers. She'd been pretty lonely just her and her drawings. @LPFan @Foster

@Love Me Dead

"Yeah, but keeping the bore from rusting-out is a bit of a challenge with corrosive ammunition. Still hits hard though." Taggart stated, a little uneasy by how Willis was eying-up his rifle with more than a little envy and nostalgia.

He watched as the little girl, not yet introduced, was quietly ignoring them. The fact that she refused to acknowledge what was going-on was probably more unsettling even as he heard a scratching at the front-door to join the much louder scratching at the bathroom door.

He then heard something meowing, and remembered his kitty-cat had tagged-along with him this time.

Opening the door just a crack, he let the little feline into the house as it stalked up behind Gabel, watching her intently before perking its ears at the noise of the bathroom-door scraping.

@Foster

Gabel Wester

Gabel turned a bit when he went to open the door and just looked at the kitten before speaking softly once it turned it's head to the noise, "You leave my daddy alone." She took a moment to look at both of them men and gave a sigh before pointing to the stove, a gas stove. Her voice sounded sweet like she was trying to get her way, "If you two are going to be in here one of you are going to make mac and cheese." She stood up and walked over to one of the counters stepping on the little blue stool she had set up there opening up the cupboard and pulling out two boxes setting them down seeming to be still half talking to herself, "I burnt myself last time I made it."

She was a strange child not acting too afraid of these to strangers in her home. She got down and opened a door to her pantry pulling out four plastic bottles of water holding them in her arms. All this time she'd been simply staying in the house and feeding herself anything she could find, one thing was for sure, this kid was smart.

Setting them down she seemed to be half ignoring them again as she got a pot out from under the stove and set it up opening the bottles and dumping them into the pot before going back to her seat at the table simply stating, "I'm hungry." She picked up her crayon and started coloring in the face of her drawing, she seemed to be happy with what she was doing. @LPFan@Foster

@Love Me Dead

Will Taggart was a bit flabbergasted at Gabel's behavior, it was as though she was still expecting someone, some sort of authority she could recognize, and until then in her mind she was in charge of the house. Still, the girl was hungry, so was he. Her terms seemed reasonable as he volunteered to operate the stove and make sure not to waste a single precious drop of water boiling-over.

Since she was in the room he decided it was a good time to get to know their hostess:

"So, you waiting for anyone to come pick you up? I heard over the radio there was an aid-station in Wilmington being run on 8th street. They claim to have food and barricades. Doesn't sound like the safest place, but maybe they got sidetracked over to there and lost hope?"

@Foster

[Note: being given GM-permission to control everyone's characters for this post, it is being subtly hinted I am to kill them off.]

(also, post will be broken into review and new-content, simply so I can double-check what is going-on and tie-in my character to more-active group.)

[Shoe Thief]

Hunter Monroe

Weeks ago

Hunter rode his old pickup truck down the road, swerving to avoid cars, people, and the infected. He's in uniform at this moment, his Beretta at his hip and blood across his torso. Well driving down the road he was pretty sure a gunshot went into the side of his truck, he swerved to avoid it but he wasn't sure if it was a gun shot or just his truck telling him it was about done. Soon he pulled the truck onto the lawn of one of many suburban houses in the neighborhood. The only difference with this one, it was where his family still sit waiting for him.

Hunter jumped out of the truck with his Beretta in hand, there was infected around but they were too far away to worry about at this moment. So he ran do the front door and started banging on it. "Mom! Kathryn! Sadie! Come one someone open up!" Soon a woman only a couple years older then him opened the door, grabbed Hunter by his uniform's collar and pulled him in. "Kathryn? Where is everyone? are they ready to leave? did you grab the guns like I said? Do we have the car gassed up?" "Calm down, we're good, we're ready. Though if you start to panic again we wont be. Level head Hunter, level head." She told to him. Hunter knew she was right, his older sister normally was about these things, he would never admit that to her but hew was willing to listen. "Look, The captain said he was shutting the gates for good in a few hours, we need to leave now or we're not going to make it. Get everyone up here and grab dad's guns. No way we are getting out of here with just the Beretta." Kathryn nodded then started running off to the basement. Hunter went into the kitchen, looks like his mother and siblings did a pretty decent job grabbing what they could. Hunter knew the station had a lot of supplies in it, but chances were he wasn't the only one trying to get people inside.

Kathryn soon came up with his mom, three younger girls of many ages, all younger then Hunter and Kathryn, and one boy about twelve. Kathryn had a double barrel shotgun in one hand and a duffle bag in her other hand. "Where's the rest of the guns? Dad's pump action? The 30-06? The .22s?" She just shook her head. "He sold them all a few months ago, we can talk later but this is all we have right now." Hunter looked at his siblings, then and his mother were getting ready to make a run for the Minivan, well Hunter was going to guide the way with his truck (If it made it back to the national guard station). "We'll make do then, grab what ever shells he had stored away then we're leaving."

The next fifteen minutes are all fuzzy to Hunter, he remembered exiting the front door, opening fire with his sidearm a few times to keep the infected at bay, Kathryn did the same thing a couple times. He remembers the van and the truck pulling out, and he remembers at some point during the drive the panic on the street had gotten worse. He didn't even see what had hit his truck and sent him off into the coffee shop. What he did see what the van stopping, and his younger sister Sadie running from it, to him with the shotgun in her hands. He blacked out a few times, sometimes seeing someone from his family, sometimes seeing the dead. Sometimes woken up from the sound of a gun going off. But after sitting upside down for what seemed like forever, he soon passed out, only to wake up in the improvised medical center with in the National guard station.

[Desire]

Cole Anderson

He hadn't kept track of how long it took to get there. Admittedly, it probably took a little while. Whatever the case, the ride was almost peaceful getting up there. The nice soft hum of his sports bike, leading the way slightly in front of the other bike and the car. Cole was a pretty good driver, so he offered to take the lead, and his bike was also the fastest so he could scout ahead. The pretty blonde culinary girl had decided to ride with him, finding a helmet for herself as he felt her arms wrapped around his waist when he drove. It was mildly warm, with the occasional breeze, but the warmth he felt against his back and broad shoulders felt nice. It had been a while since somebody else drove on this bike with him. And in these times, it felt comforting knowing that somebody was there.

At their destination, Cole slowed to a stop, keeping the engine idle. It seemed quite enough, but just in case things went south, he could pull right on out of there. Although everybody seemed a little too hasty. Sarah got out right away to help some person a few feet away, having no clue who the person was. Hunter went after her, naturally (couldn't find Sarah without him right up her ass). Todd just layed down and seemingly passed out on the pavement. The only person who hadn't moved was Scout, who calmly sat on her bike.

Two men were approaching the party, one holding a gun, somebody who looked to be in the military. You could tell by the way he held it, the way he walked. The other man, however, he didn't have the foggiest idea. Maybe he was the leader? Either way, it seemed nobody wanted to confront these men. Then didn't seem hostile, but somebody would need to talk to them. "Well, looks like I'll be team captain here." he said to himself, cutting the engine. He shrugged on his backpack, pulling out his pistol but keeping it to his side. The crowbar was sitting on his belt loop, the knife in his jeans pocket.

"I'm gonna see what they want. Watch my back." he told the pretty blonde, before walking to meet the men. He came within a few feet away, keeping a firm grip on his pistol but showing he meant no harm. With his helmet still on, the visor pulled down, he surveyed the two of them behind the dark visor.

"So, we heard there's a safe house around here. Would this happen to be the place? Our group was looking for some shelter."

[FortunesFaded]

Desmond Williams:

Life had a way of picking up and slowing down, roughly transitioning between periods of intense excitement and lulls of boredom which seemed to drag on. Desmond found that, no matter what the circumstance, he generally found himself happier just riding those waves out, than trying to liven the mood somehow. So, the car ride over stayed silent. Group morale was somewhere higher than hostile but not-quite chummy. Hell, it looked like most everyone was just anxious to see how things would turn out. Desmond was no exception.

Though it felt like longer, the small convoy pulled up on 8th Street less than an hour later. As the car turned the corner, Desmond looked around at what appeared at first glance to be a boring, run-down street. Shops looted, glass broken, cars upended, but at least without a trace of the undead. Though a couple buildings had some rough barricades set up, one -- a tall office building -- seemed much more able to weather the storm, so to speak. Must be the place, Desmond thought to himself as the convoy came to a halt. Suddenly, the lull was over: Desmond heard a cry for help from down the street, and saw Sarah run off to help. Three men emerged from the building, one military, a cop and another guy, as Cole went out to parlay with them. Todd, the kid, collapsed out of the car and onto the road. The lawyer looked around, trying to take all the issues into account, and see where he may be of the most assistance.

Cole seemed to have things under control. Desmond didn't much like him -- too hot-headed and impulsive -- he didn't see their conversation escalating any further. Getting out of the car and slinging his bag back over his shoulders, Desmond went around the other side of the car to check on Todd. The kid seemed hungry, sleep-deprived and dehydrated: a deadly combination. Desmond reached into his bag and pulled out cheerios and the large bottle of Dr. Pepper.
"Have as much as you'd like," he told Todd after making sure he was awake, before glancing up to see Sarah with a taller guy, who looked in worse shape than Todd.
"I'll be right back, okay? Try to eat and drink a bit, it'll help."

With that, he left the cereal and soda with Todd and took off running toward Sarah and the new guy. He got to the pair pretty quickly, just in time to hear the man ask Sarah for water. So we've got two people with dehydration, and not even enough water to make it through the week? Desmond thought to himself, before shaking off his selfishness and reaching back into his bag. With the soda gone, he just had two 16-ounce bottles of water left of his personal supply. Looking from his depleted stock to the guy in desperate need of a drink, and back again, he grabbed one of the bottles and held it out for the man.
"Take it, you need it more than me right now."

Douglas Knowles:

While the convoy had, from their vantage point on the second floor, seemed intimidating at first, upon closer inspection Doug found it to be nothing more than a bunch of tired civilians looking for safety. As Doug, Omar and the Captain walked out to meet with them, the police officer watched as a man called for help from down the street, and two of the survivors -- a brunette in sunglasses and a man in a suit -- respond to the call. They had a kid with them, too, who seemed more tired than all of them. As the action continued to play out with the man down the street, another guy, a football player, from the convoy came up to meet the trio. He asked about the safehouse, and Doug gave a cordial smile.
"Yeah, you've found it. Shitty looking building right behind us, but she's sturdier than she looks. Did you hear the broadcast?" He asked, before waving his own question away. "Ah, no matter. I'm Doug, this here's Omar and Captain John. Why don't we get you guys inside, and we can all give proper introductions?"

[Komo]

Laura Johnson

The ride took some time. Laura wasn't sure how long it took, but it was a while. She had managed to scrounge up a helmet from the nearby adjacent carpark. As she got into the carpark, she had found several abandoned motorcycles still lying in the same exact position they were left in. Almost all of them were no longer in working condition, either with parts missing or an assortment of separate unknown problems. That didn't concern her though. She not after a working bike, but a helmet.

After searching for what felt like forever, Laura found a dirty, musty-looking helmet lying sideways on the ground. Dusting it off as best as she could, she grabbed it and started to head back. Soon enough, it was time for the group to leave. Placing the helmet onto her head, she got onto the bike behind the hunky Cole as he brought the bike's engines to life. And they were off.

Grabbing tightly onto his waist as the motorcycle sped ahead, Laura peered off his shoulders as he led the group of survivors towards their intended destination. Eventually tired of looking around, she rested her helmeted head onto Cole's back, exhausted by the day's ordeal. It was not like there was any other thing to do right now. She did not know how long she lay there, as the motorcycle's engine monotonous droning seemed to go on forever, before finally stopping. That got her attention.

Why did they stop? Had they reached their destination? Lifting her head as Cole moved to get up, Laura saw that they have approached a cluster of buildings of sort. Two armed men were approaching the group and Cole had take it upon himself to meet up with them. He asked her to watch his back. Ironically, after using it, she now had to protect it. Figures. Lifting up the helmet to get an unobstructed view of the surroundings, she kept an eye out for Cole. Although she had a pistol, she wasn't really any good with it.

[Wade Wilson]

The Apartment Group
110 E 8th St
Wilmington, Delaware

The man in the suit (the one who had suggested coming here in the first place) had woken up Todd and presented him with a drink and some food, telling him to have as much as he wanted. He liked that idea. Todd's vision was blurry at first, as the man walked away to talk to some people, but with a rub of his eyes he managed to see what was in front of him. At first, he thought he was dead - right there in front of him was a 2 litre bottle of Dr Pepper. Dr Pepper...

This got all the life back into him. The boy quickly scrambled off the ground and sat down, twisting the lid open and listening to the satisfying ssssssssh of the gas escaping. He then pulled it off, bringing the rim to his lips, and smelling the sweet liquid as it ran into his mouth. He closed his eyes, savouring the taste as his entire mouth learned the existance of liquid once again. He drank a little bit, wanting to save some for later, before moving onto the cheerios.

Todd practically poured a fifth of the bag into his mouth, crunching away contently. If he were any smaller, you'd almost think he were a toddler laughing at a sneeze. He closed the box - making sure to use the special tabs to keep it fresh - and made sure the lid was on the Dr Pepper good and tight. Then, he stood up, the pop in his right hand and the cereal in his left, before walking over to where the football player and three men he hadn't seen before were.

"Where are we?" He asked, holding his food and drink possessively.