[IC] The Walking Dead: To Greener Pastures

[DELETED08734]

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

She continued to assess the situation of the young man who was exasperated and dehydrated. Hunter@Remipa Awesome arrived shortly after with a warning to watch our backs. He was protective of her it seemed. It was sweet. Her ice blue eyes scanned their surroundings quickly. Movement from two blocks down caught her eye. Naturally she assumed it was a walker but she couldn't exactly tell from this distance. Hopefully they had some time before that "thing" had to be dealt with. She turned to the boy. @ChronoBovino "We have some water in the..." As if on cue, Desmond@FortunesFaded arrived and offered the kid a water bottle. She cast a giant smile of appreciation to the man in the suit. It was almost dusk and her sunglasses had become useless. She moved them to rest on top of her head. "Thanks guys." She smiled both to the man in the suit and Hunter, who seemed wary of their situation. Something in his past must have him on edge she thought. Turning back to the boy who she assumed had chugged some of the water which had been offered, she spoke to him in a calm voice. "Let's get you up and over to our convoy over there, they are going to offer us shelter." Of course she was exactly sure what was going to happen but she wanted to be optimistic for not only herself, but the entire group as well.

She helped the boy to his feet and returned to her car. Cole, Laura, Scout and three military men from the safe house were exchanging words. As she approached she noticed that her whole right shoulder was sticky...and drenched. There even seemed to be a puddle of the stuff that had dripped in between her bodacious breasts? She hastily took the end of her tank exposing her waist as she attempted to dry the wet mess. She realized that it was drool. Yes. It was drool...from Todd!@Wade Wilson She smiled at the thought of the cute young kid who had slept the entire ride here. It sparked a motherly instinct and a need....well a need for a certain itch to be scratched. Her ice blue eyes danced to the optional candidates who were capable of scratching that itch....Smh...Now is not the time for that. Memories of her husband and the many times they had tried to conceive did away with any sexual sins that had attempted to sway her of a good girl nature.

Cole, the infamous football player took charge. Haha he was used to being a team captain so naturally he took it upon himself to take command. 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?" Her tired ice blue eyes were wary and filled with defeat. She hardly trusted anyone at this point, but these new people seemed willing enough. Truthfully, she needed some rest. And a bong. And shots of patron. And someone to fuck...maybe not that last one but she needed an escape to keep her mind from replaying that horrible memory of that knife penetrating her husbands head....and how is handsome eyes just went lifeless...and how she had lost the only thing that was keeping her alive.

Sarah lowered her tank top and adjusted her shirt after wiping the drool away. Not knowing if they were going to be able to bring their vehicles in or not, she removed her things from the trunk of the camaro. Mainly her backpack and medical supplies bag. There was also a small amount of food and water from the apartment which maybe they could offer to the safe house for their protection. All this time, she left her pistol holstered. And had forgotten about that walker...or walkers she had seen two blocks down...

[Foster]

Gabel Wester
William Taggart

Patrick continued eyeing the Mosin with envy, as it had been left unattended; until Gabel said something about her father, suggesting he was the source of the scraping-noise. He also saw the drawing of the woman, and put that and the story of how she'd burned herself trying to cook together.

He was pretty sure what that meant, the girl was an orphan in denial.

"That safehouse sound like a good idea," Patrick said, nodding; "But maybe we should leave a note in case someone else comes. We don't want them to worry."

---

From the kitchen, William murmured in agreement, "We can put a tag on the door, telling any response-teams this place has been checked and evacuated with survivors, and any hazards, or supplies left behind to aid others, and an arrow, map, or just a note to where we went and who."

As the water began to boil, Taggart brought the heat down and took a crayon and a sheet of paper, writing a note in big letters, followed shortly by Patrick and Gabel.

Just then, the saucepan of boiling water was knocked off the stove and a loud groan was heard, some shamblers had gotten in. Mr Willis prompty started hacking into them, getting bitten when his Kukri sunk into one of them at a bad angle and took too long to get out. With one hand now pretty badly messed-up and bleeding, he drew his revolver and started shooting. Taggart set down the sheet of paper and grabbed Gabel to let her ride his back (having just learned her name), there wasn't any time or space for him to grab any of the rucksacks as he fetched his rifle and went out the only clear-looking door, truncheoning a few on the way out as he went at a very brisk jog towards the go-cart.

In the living-room, sat their note, slightly blood-splattered upon the table:

Survivors evacuated to 8th Street Aid station, Willmington, 10/25
- William Taggart
-Patrick Willis
- Gabel Wester

[McHaggis]

.

[FortunesFaded]

Douglas Knowles:

In a matter of hours, their fledgling group had grown from four tired souls in an office building, to a real, legitimate faction. The only one in Wilmington, from Doug's understanding. There were a couple folks down by the hardware store four blocks away, but last time Ron went out for recon he'd said that the place had been overrun. So either they moved, or.. Worse. That was the way things went now, as Doug was just beginning to understand. There simply weren't enough survivors left to take back what used to be theirs. All they could hope for was to stall, as long and desperately as possible. But maybe it was just Ron's pessimism getting to him. Maybe these folks could make it.

As the group made their way inside, with Omar covering the ones further away to make sure no stragglers attempted to follow, one of the survivors -- a tough-looking lady with a pair of shades -- asked about their lookout positions.
"Well, my partner, Ron, generally takes the main shift. He's good with a rifle, been on the force for years and hunting for even longer. Plus he likes to be alone, or so he says. 'Sides that, Omar and I split night duty," he answered, as the group entered the building and proceeded up the stairs. "Patty -- she's upstairs right now manning the radio -- she doesn't have much of an affinity for guns. Never used one before the outbreak, that is. We're trying to ease her into it. Anyway, you're welcome to take on that duty for a shift, God knows we'd appreciate it."

When every man, woman and child had made it into the 2nd floor "common room", the entire room felt a whole lot smaller. Doug made it a point, after introductions had finished, to count the people in his head. There were the four of them, the originals, though Ron had said a brief "hello" and gone upstairs to act as lookout. Then, there were the three who came initially: Ana, John and Chase. That was seven. The football player and the lady in the shades, nine. The brunette and the guy she ran to go help, eleven. The exhausted young blonde, and the equally exhausted kid, thirteen. There was a man in a pretty damn nice suit, fourteen. And lastly, another young guy with the look of a soldier. Fifteen, in all.

"Okay, everybody: I know you're tired, and we all just met, but if we're gonna survive more than a couple days, we need to all work together and do our part. Here's where we're at," Doug found a mobile dry-erase board and brought it over to the front of the group, before uncapping a marker and writing Food: 2 Days.
"This is how much food we have if we spread it across all of us, not counting whatever you all brought. Regardless, we need more. Lots more. Try to find cans, pasta, really any non-perishable, as well as any water you might find. Next.." With a clear, blocky font and pretty slow strokes, the police officer wrote the words Safety and Defensibility.
"So, our little abode is rather sturdy -- at least, compared to the rest of the decrepit buildings on this street. However, we could use some more barricades, maybe a sniper tower on the roof, and blockades on both sides of the street. But to do those things, we'll need more construction supplies. You'll need to use your own vehicle for this one; I'd offer ours, but two of our group, two cops, took it out on patrol and haven't been seen since. In fact, if I could get another volunteer to come with me while I look for them, that would be appreciated."
Almost immediately, the man in the suit made eye contact with Doug and nodded.
"I've got your back," Desmond replied.
"Thank you." Turning his attention back to the board, he wrote one more thing down: Medicine: None.
"Now, I'm sure I don't have to explain to you why this is a problem. If anything happens, anyone gets hurt or scratched or what-have-you, it ain't gonna end pretty. Not without some proper supplies. There's a pharmacy on the west side of town, and I'm hoping it hasn't been looted too much yet."

Doug took a breath, and surveyed the room once more, before turning back to his board. He felt bad about enlisting these folks as soon as they arrived, but the truth was, without these supplies, they'd be dead before the week's end.
"So, to recap, I need, say, three people to go search the local supermarkets and convenience stores; three people to find construction supplies -- boards, nails, tools -- and bring them back here, and also three people to go check out that pharmacy. For everyone else, if you can think of a way to contribute, please do. If you are unable, or just need to rest a bit, we understand. Don't over-exert yourself. And thank you."

[Shoe Thief]

Hunter Monroe

Hunter followed everyone in, he kept his rifle gripped tight in his hands. Though as he started going through the building he was starting to get an idea of what the place was like. Had a good stock pile for the few people inside, but with his "Group" added to it, it was spread this, down to a couple days worth. He also noticed they lacked numbers and medicine. He remembered how bad things went at his station after they ran out, people got sick really fast and a lot more died... then things got worse. He could tell they had decent firepower, but seemed the two best things these people had was the building, and the radio. Though now with all these people they had a lot of possibilities.

Hunter eventually worked up the nerve to speak, He knew how bad things would get with out medicine. "I worked... with our old field medic a few times, I have a rough idea of what will be needed from the pharmacy. Can handle a situation pretty decent too if it come to it." He still held his rifle, but a lot more relaxed. "We may also want to consider bullets." He looked around the room, he saw some pretty decent firepower, but it would all be useless with out bullets. "With the right parts and supplies it is possible to make ammunition in small quantities. I am not saying this is something to do now, as far as I know bullets are going to be fine for now as long as we are smart. I do want to bring it up that it is an option. Especially with shotgun shells."

Truth be told, Hunter always liked feeling useful, he had few skills outside shooting a gun that were useful before the end. But now he was in a place where he could try an be productive, where he was more then just a man with a gun. He was ready to do what ever he needed too so he could help people again. He wanted this place to be like how his last station was supposed to be.

[FallenTrinity]

As they went inside John looked at the group overall. They were all in pretty rough shape and a few needed to stay behind at their new "home" so they could be more valuable later on. A few minutes went by and then the briefing about the situation in the shelter took place and John could only rll his eyes.@Remipa Awesome Figured as much... I got a first aid kit and a box of 7.62x51mm rounds, 500 in the box, for those whose weapons can fit that round... And I can spare 5 days worth of MREs for the group; 15 meals total. Not much but its something." He swung his rucksack off his back and rummaged through it, pulling out what he said he would offer before shutting it and placing it back onto his back.

"As far as teams go, it doesn't matter..."

[Exit]

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

Chase was sent back to his room for a shirt when Ana @Pirouette had something to say about his "odd behavior". He might have said something smart in return, maybe try to steer their short conversation in a certain direction... namely between her legs, but the unwavering grip she had around her pistol told him otherwise. That and her choice of friends. Even the golden hair and the awfully attracting undertones of a lingering Russian accent couldn't get him to try his luck... at least not now. He had more important things to occupy himself with and dealing with a seasoned trigger finger and an uncertain one wasn't a game he was willing to play. He left her be, satisfied with what little he'd managed to gleam about her personal life from a time before the Fall... which was literally next to nothing.

When he'd finally stepped out of his room and back into the common area between the others, clean shirt in hand, he'd noticed the the place was now filled. Filled with everyone. John and Ana were there as were their hosts but joining the group of faces he already knew were new ones and a large number at that. 8 faces he counted. All quite different and yet all sharing the same tired and exasperated expression as the person next to them.

@FortunesFaded There was the fancy man Desmond. All suit and slacks and leather. Unarmed at first glance but he was sure there was something of worth underneath the more expensive layers. His choice of clothing didn't make much sense to Chase. His own mind had already been warped, his perspective on the necessities of survival his biological Bible. Clothing was another means to prolong his life and a suit didn't do it for him. Then again, neither was being shirtless but it had been hot and he needed to cool off.

@Remipa Awesome There was Hunter. Donning a plain T-shirt, Cargo pants, and some type of camo hat. It was a respectable choice of clothing in the summer heat. What really set the man apart was the fact that he was the one most visibly armed. The shotgun, the rifle, the hatchet. The shells lining the strap to his pack. The satchel and whatever the hell was inside it. The stuff wasn't light and the fact that he was lugging it all around? Chase glanced at the glock on his hip to make sure it was still there. There were times when he didn't even notice it's slight tug against his waist and that was the way he liked it. Of course with just the handgun he wasn't prepared to fight off all of the dead like Hunter was.

@Foster Wilhelm Taggart could have been Ana's husband. It was like someone had reached into one of those spy films he'd seen and pulled the main villain right out of the screen. Brown and thick coat that hung to his knees. That weird fuzzy cap that hugged every inch of his head. Gloves, boots, scarf. Chase began to sweat just looking at him and the oddities didn't stop there. Stuck to his legs as if by glue was a young girl. Children in the apocalypse were another issue entirely... and there were two in the group.

@Wade Wilson Todd. A rather strange child of a young age he was sure. He didn't know. Besides looking like a miniaturized version of Desmond, he noticed that the Kid looked exhausted... very exhausted, more than the others. Perhaps it was the strain of the apocalypse on someone so young that was finally taking it's toll on him but he couldn't be sure and he wasn't even sure that he really cared.

@Desire Then there was Cole. He was fit for sure, taller than any one person needed to be and sporting a body that looked as though it was made of pure muscle. His attire was appropriate for the game that was coming up around the corner of never. He obviously didn't want to miss it. However it was the man's face that was throwing him for a loop. He looked oddly familiar but couldn't quite put two and two together. The Eagles branded gear. The name Cole. The... face.

Chase mentally shrugged.

Finally there were the two new women not including Ana. There was more estrogen in this one room in the middle of an empty city than he'd seen in a long time. @McHaggis Scout was the first to catch his eye. A little more masculine in appearance than one man might expect of a woman... at least back when the world was a lot more civilized. Nowadays? The way she carried herself, the way she stood off to the side and with just enough distance from the main group to single herself out. There was this air around her that told of someone who knew how to take care of herself and of a woman that didn't need a man's help or some shoulder to lean on. She had herself. Did herself. Was probably surrounding herself with this odd collection of faces out of self interest not unlike Chase. Her attire tasted of attitude with a dash of "I like shorts." He could appreciate that. There was a freedom in it that pants couldn't offer but also at the cost of an extra layer of protection.

@CandiBarr Last but definitely not least was Sarah. She stood squarely on the other end of the spectrum. From bottom up, the natural way to eye a woman, Chase observed first her boots of a more southern cow-girl style. Her jeans fit her form a little too well and looked to sacrifice freedom of movement for a better view of her well formed ass. Naturally his survivalist Bible wanted to disagree but a second head was telling him otherwise... and it only became worse the further north he traveled. His eyes followed the curve of thin black fabric as it snaked around her hip and climbed to the low cut in her tank top. It came to an end dangerously close to the crest of her chest with black veil separating to reveal soft and supple light skin beneath. There was enough there to satisfy both himself and the dead. Finally there was the soft edges of her face framed by the black of her hair. She was rather easy on the eyes, a specimen of the female sex that he'd never expect to find out in the waste. Most with her charm usually ended up dead or worse; a victim of rape and ensla-

Her eyes caught his and the churning in both of his heads ground to a halt. The first thing that crossed his mind was the fact that she'd caught him staring. A feeling of guilt boiled from within his gut and welled up inside of him... at least until he realized that she was staring too. Her eyes a sharper contrast to the brown of Ana's, he did away with the urge to turn away and held her gaze with his. Clouded windows offered a glimpse into the black and it was there that he recognized something. A pain... or perhaps a need. Maybe both. He'd seen the same thing in many struggling women from his time in a long forgotten career. It was the need that came about from the certainty of loss. Although as common a story now as it once was, it presented an opportunity he was remiss to overlook.

Still holding her gaze, he finished putting on his shirt, making a show of what muscles he had in his upper body before covering them up... temporarily he hoped. His mind juggled both Sarah and the other issues he had to address. Firstly, there were supplies that the group needed to scavenge. He had food that he knew he could stretch and he wasn't planning to stick around and make the place his permanent home so construction materials were out of the question. Medical supplies however were a hard thing to come by. He had some but it was never enough. And of course there was a more pressing matter he had to think about. Something needed delaying both for himself and for the good of others.

"I think we're all forgetting one thing..." Chase began, finally turning away from the woman and addressing everyone in the room. "Time of day is late. The sun is beginning to set and visibility will be low. If you're all going to do this you'll either have to do it now or wait until sunrise. As for me..." He returned to Sarah, pulling the handgun from it's holster and checking to see if it was loaded. "... I can handle myself so I'm headed out. I can't stand another second trapped in this damn building..." The last part was mostly muttered to himself. "Medical supplies was one of the items on your list? I'll see what I can find." He finished, sliding the chamber shut with satisfying "click".

"I'll be back in a few hours at the most." He looked at every individual in the room and tagged a name to each face. "Hopefully I see you all back here then."

Chase moved to grab his pack, give his weapons one last look over and head out.

[ChronoBovino]

Sam~

Sam gladly drank the water and breathed a little calmer. Although he forgot to say thank you, maybe he was just giving this whole F*** fest time to 'Digest'. He made it into the safe house and listened just listened. Well and good. He rose his voice but not his head "I'm a fast runner track recor-" at that point he rose his head and looked around. He stayed quiet after. He couldn't stop thinking of how he held his brother. Running for so long. He held back tears and once again spoke up, this time standing, pulling his snub nose from the back of his shorts.

"I'd like to contribute to this 'group' as best as I can. Tell me what to do...

[Foster]

"I think we're all forgetting one thing..." Chase began, finally turning away from the woman and addressing everyone in the room. "Time of day is late. The sun is beginning to set and visibility will be low. If you're all going to do this you'll either have to do it now or wait until sunrise. As for me..." He returned to Sarah, pulling the handgun from it's holster and checking to see if it was loaded. "... I can handle myself so I'm headed out. I can't stand another second trapped in this damn building..." The last part was mostly muttered to himself. "Medical supplies was one of the items on your list? I'll see what I can find." He finished, sliding the chamber shut with satisfying "click".

"I'll be back in a few hours at the most." He looked at every individual in the room and tagged a name to each face. "Hopefully I see you all back here then."

Chase moved to grab his pack, give his weapons one last look over and head out.

@Exit

Taggart sighed, with a tinge of frustration knowing the kid was absolutely right, but really not wanting to go out there, as he went over to heft-up his old Mosin to join Chase, but found someone tugging at his leg, it was Gabel.

He knelt-down, getting to the little girl's eye-level, "Where I'm going won't be very safe. You stay here with these people, and I'll be back in a couple of hours. I promise." He said, promising a safe return before leaving the girl in what he hoped was better care than had he just left her in that old house with those things.

Although he wasn't sure of everyone's specific medical-needs, he knew his own, and didn't want to make anyone think of himself as a liability by disclosing his... condition. As such, he wanted to make sure he got what he needed, and the only way to do that was to go. In the meantime, he popped a pair of asprin and chewed them down to fight-off the early signs of a migraine. He'd be able to hold it together for a few more days, no problem; his assurances to himself seemed empty.

[Wade Wilson]

If dead men tell no tales, then why do they walk the planet?

------------------------------
The Apartment Group
110 E 8th St
Wilmington, Delaware
------------------------------

----x----

@FortunesFaded -:- @McHaggis -:- @FallenTrinity -:- @CandiBarr -:- @Pirouette -:- @Foster -:- @Remipa Awesome -:- @ChronoBovino -:- @Desire -:- @Exit -:- @Symphoni

----x----

The group were led upstairs by two police officers and a Navy Seal. Ugggggh, stairs. Why did they even exist?
Regardless, Todd pushed away his groaning and introduced himself - first, of course.

"I'm Todd. Touch my Dr Pepper, and I'm your worst nightmare."

He thought it might be good to inject some humour into all of this, to raise people's spirits a bit. It would've been hard, of course - most people there had probably gone through some sort of loss due to the unexpected turn of events that caused this apocalypse - but it was worth a try. After making his introduction, he sat down quietly and made a mental note of the group in his head.

DESMOND | Nickames - Desmond Miles/Des

The man who'd given Todd the Dr Pepper and Cheerios. He was definitely taller than 5'5", from what Todd could see, and had dark brown hair that went down to his turquoise eyes. He wasn't too muscular, but definitely knew how to handle himself. He was bound to have some kind of weapon on him. Apparently, he was a lawyer (or rather, an attorney) before the world went to shit. This made Todd smile; he wouldn't have expected a lawyer, of all people, to be as nice as Des was. Either way, this was the apocalypse, and there was bound to be a time when Desmond would pack up and leave. Or die.

SCOUT | Nickames - (-/-)

A tall woman - no more than 5'8" - 5'9", Todd would say - with short, blonde hair and aviators. She had quite masculine features, and a pale-ish complexion, however trumped compared to that of his own (when he stopped being yellow, of course). She wore a thick, tan jacket, that seemed to be sculpted to her athletic build, and Todd took note of her thick Brooklyn accent as she spoke. Throughout his time with the group, when he first entered the apartment, she seemed to have a weariness of Todd. Probably underestimating him, like most people do. It was custom by now.

JOHN | Nickames - Fred/Johnny/Johnno/Freddy Krueger/Drop Dead Fred

The Navy Seal who'd greeted them downstairs. He was a giant man, well over 6', with the most unfortunate name in the world. He had a bald head and a long beard that went just past his neck, with some bits of tattoos showing on his arm. Captain Krueger's combat pants, jacket, boots and shirt (with "Navy" printed on it in gold) fit perfectly to his body, showing off his muscles. The final feature was his army dogtags, which he wore around his neck. Was kinda stupid, really - it wasn't just kids who could choke by getting neckwear caught on things.

SARAH | Nickames - (-/-)

The brunette who'd decided to take her anger out on Todd and the Australian woman at the apartment. Of course, it wasn't her fault her husband was a walker. Still, was kinda selfish to be angry at others because of it. Anyway, she had apologized, and Todd had accepted. She was a tiny bit shorter than Scout, by about an inch, and had a slender, thin build. Her blue eyes were constantly flicking between the men of the group, and Todd wondered if she was missing her husband that much already. She locked eye contact onto one of the men from the original 8th Street group, and that seemed to be the end of that.

ANA | Nickames - Anastasia Hoohow?

A very short Russian woman, with light blonde hair (so light it was almost white). She was definitely shorter than 5'5", that anyone could tell, and looked a dwarf compared to the rest of the group. Apart from Todd, and another kid there. Her Russian accent did stand out a lot, but she seemed to speak perfect English. That was a good thing - Todd couldn't get through the zombie apocalypse with someone he didn't understand. One thing that surprised the boy, however, was that she somehow had a shotgun, 9mm gun, and a duffel bag. Given the fact she was a ballet dancer, one would be confused as to exactly how she gained those.

WILLIAM | Nickames - Morzeny

Todd could've sworn this guy was a villain in one of the James Bond movies. Honestly, it was a surprise he and Ana weren't related - Taggart was dressed in the full evil Russian get-up, from top to toe. A large, soviet-style greatcoat, glasses, gloves, big, black boots... it was all there. If he'd been wearing a black Russian winter hat and had the accent, he would've been the real deal. What disturbed Todd the most, however, wasn't the man's attire (or unkept hair) - it was the young girl clinging to his leg. She looked roughly 7, with a slightly growing spark of imagination in her eyes that made the young boy smile - he remembered when he used to be like that. If only...

HUNTER | Nickames - (-/-)

A pretty tall guy, just under 6' as far as Todd could tell, with a budding beard that's mainly growing stubble, and short, dark hair. He wore a t-shirt and cargo pants, showing his average muscle tone, and a camouflage hat (that was previously shoved in his small satchel). Hunter also had a shotgun on him, one that had previously jammed (from what he heard) and almost shot him in the face. Todd hoped to god it wouldn't do that again - Hunter seemed like a good addition to the team.

SAM | Nickames - The Little Athlete That Could

A coloured man, standing at 6', with an athlete's getup and a rose tattoo on one of his muscled arms. He looked exhausted, and scared, which was surprising given the fact he was one of the toughest looking guys there. Todd remembered him being the one that Sarah had ran over to, followed shortly by Hunter, and finally Desmond. He didn't get the fuss, though - shouldn't an athlete be used to running?

COLE | Nickames - Eagle Boy, Mr. Muscle

Another one of the "over 6'"s, this time a quarterback from the Eagles. Todd could recognize it instantly when he saw Cole at the apartment - the getup, the muscles, the face... it was all there. This was Cole Anderson himself. His blue eyes burned with determination, and his physical structure was primed and raring to go; muscles at every corner. If everyone made it through this, it would make a brilliant story. Todd just hoped Cole would carry on with his job.

CHASE | Nickames - Mad Max

An "Uber" - whatever one of those was - standing at roughly the same height as Scout. 5'9", Todd would say. He had stubble which was slowly starting to grow out, and dirty clothes. Dirty shirt that was white in another life, scruffy leather jacket, black, mud-stained jeans... whatever an Uber was, they were tramps. He looked like something out of a Mad Max movie. Anyway, he and Sarah locked eyes and seemed to have a special moment while the rest of the room sat in awkward silence and waited for the next person.

LAURA | Nickames - (-/-)

The Australian woman who saved Todd at the apartment. Now she was stood still, Todd could get a better look at her. She was a few inches shorter than Scout, about 5'4", and had honey blonde hair tied into a braid that went down her back. Her green eyes were mesmerising, but nonetheless Todd carried on his observation. He noticed Laura kept herself in good shape, but didn't actually possess any athletic-like muscle. Regardless, she was still fit for the apocalypse. Her soft, round face had that youthful look to it - as if she were only a teenager - and blended in nicely with the red, plaid shirt she was wearing. On her legs were a pair of brown pants, but that seemed about it; Laura didn't seem hellbent on cramming herself with layers for protection. That was a good choice, as it would probably serve well later. Todd just hoped he fared as well as all the others did.

----x----

After everyone else had, Douglas introduced himself briefly, and then moved onto the inventory check. From all the information Todd had gathered, the group needed three things - food, materials, and medicine. Medicine was taken by Sarah and Chase, Desmond and Douglas were searching for two missing guys, and materials was out of the question. That left Todd with food, which so far had only been chosen by one person - Scout.

"I'll head out for food, with Scout. Might be a good idea to mingle with a few of you guys."

Everyone else probably thought he was just a kid; that he couldn't do it. He didn't care, though. He'd do it. Even if it killed him. He was slightly scared, though, however much he might've denied it - he hadn't taken his balaclava off the whole time.

[FortunesFaded]

Desmond Williams:

Desmond's gaze began to wander, ambling from face to face as each one volunteered to do this job or that, then to the radio, sitting silently on the nearby table, and the windows with the shades drawn down. He had stopped listening a bit after he volunteered to help Doug find his friends. Something else was on his mind, nagging, keeping him from focusing. It was a memory, and one he had tried to forget.

It was back in the days when the walking corpses were still surprising, not another hazard of life. Only a few weeks ago, really, but it felt like years. There was a calm to the air, as the predator anxiously waited for a time to strike. For them, that silence was deafening. But for the prey -- for Desmond -- he couldn't hear it, not like he does now.

He'd gotten to the warehouse outside of New York City a day or two after the outbreak. He was smart: he didn't take his chances with a car in the midst of the traffic exodus. Rather, he walked for a while, guard up, and biked the rest of the way once he found suitable transportation. Hell, when he arrived at the warehouse panting, drenched in sweat, in his t-shirt and some dress pants, he didn't know what to expect. There were men, armed pretty well, wearing a don't-fuck-with-me kind of gaze. But they welcomed him in: after a day of running and hiding, he was safe.

The core group was a bunch of ex-Army guys, all from the same platoon, and had shipped out to Iraq for two tours. Their leader was a guy named Patterson; last name, probably, but the guy never gave his first, and his guys just called him Pat. There was another military guy, too, but not from Pat's platoon. The guy was older, seventies or thereabouts, maybe. His name was Thomas, said he'd gone to Vietnam in '65 with the USMC when he wasn't much more than a boy. He always called Desmond "Slick" and made fun of his outfit, but Desmond spent more time with him than anyone else at the place. Pat's authority was unquestionable, but even he respected Thomas' opinion. And when Thomas said that the group should start training the civilians living at the warehouse to shoot a gun and keep watch, Pat agreed. So the old man put a silenced Beretta in Desmond's hand, and brought him out to the edge of the fence.

"You're gripping it like a goddamn sword. No, finger off the trigger until you're ready. Arms out front, shoulders back."
"What do I do when I'm ready?"
"Are you ready?" Thomas asked. Then he pointed out at the walker Desmond was aiming at, standing about fifteen feet away, jaw agape. "That used to be a human. Used to be a man, with a wife, and a kid, maybe. Every morning, he'd put on a suit like yours, say goodbye to his family, and go to work. He had a story. Are you ready to write the ending?"
Desmond's hands trembled. He diverted his eyes away from the walker, and Thomas, and stared at the ground for a long moment. And then a shot rang out from a silenced gun, still loud enough to make Desmond jump and his heart skip a beat. He glanced over and saw Thomas holding his pistol out, and the corpse in a heap on the ground. Desmond opened his mouth but couldn't speak.
"He used to be human, but now he's just a monster in the shell of a man. You should never hesitate to take the shot, not when your life is on the line, or another's. But you better think long and hard about the people who used to occupy these bodies. We may honor their memory by laying their bodies to rest. But the moment we forget that every walker used to be a human, we stop being human. Do you understand, slick?" Thomas' gaze pierced right through Desmond. It was the first time in a long time that someone had been able to do that to him.
"I understand," he replied shakily. "Life is now a luxury, but death is.. All around us."

The sound of a radio crackling to life snapped him back into reality. He looked over at the array on the table, but found it silent. No, the sound was coming from Doug's belt. From his handheld police radio came a male voice, the sound of fear coming out almost as loud as the words he was yelling.
"Is anyone out there?! Please, can you hear me?" Doug stood for a second, shocked to hear the law enforcement frequency active, and then grabbed his radio and held it to his face.
"Uh, yes! This is Officer Douglas Knowles, Wilmington Police. What's going on? Where is your location?"
"I'm on Rockland Road, about ten minutes from the city. I-I got separated from my group. They're coming for me, I can't talk for much longer.. Can you help?" The man's voice became more frantic, his breathing more pronounced.
"Yes, we're on our way. Don't worry." Doug put the radio back on his hip and turned to Desmond. "Only two people I know of still have access to that line besides me, and one of them's up on the roof," he gestured up at Ron.
"So it's your friend, then?" Desmond asked. Doug nodded.
"And the Rookie too, if he made it. You still got my back?"
Desmond checked his Beretta, before dropping the rest of his stuff off in a corner of the room and giving the thumbs-up. "Let's go."
With that, the two nodded to the rest of the group and ran out the door.

[McHaggis]

.

[XxLyraxX]

@McHaggis || @Wade Wilson


Estelle giggled, trying to wiggle away from Orion's tickling fingers, her older brother laughing with her. The child twisted this way and that to no avail until finally her mother came to her rescue. "Alright Orion, that's enough. We're in a restaurant." The words sounded stern but the effect was ruined by the smile on her face and laughter in her eyes. Orion consented and drew his hands away though not without ruffling Estelle's hair first. Estelle let out a squeak of protest, hands flying up to her curls. Another small hand joined hers and the girl turned to see her twin smiling at her as Willow smoothed any damage Orion may have caused. "He didn't mess it up that bad and I managed to fix it." Willow said. Estelle gave her a smile of thanks as the waiter appeared and set their food down in front of them. Estelle looked down at her chicken nuggets with delight and reached for one. However, a piercing scream shattered the calm of the room. People jumped in surprise and everyone turned to look at the door, murmurs sweeping the room.

Orion stood up slightly and saw people running down the street. He frowned, looking at his father as he wondered what was going on. Suddenly, the doors to the restaurant burst open and man covered in blood collapsed inside. The murmurs took on a fearful tinge as the man reached out with a shaky hand, pleading for help. Before anyone could rise to his aid, a woman shuffled inside and fell on top of him. His whispered pleas turning into panicked screams as the woman leaned down and tore a chunk out of his neck, his screams turning to gurgles. More screams filled the air as people knocked over tables in their haste to escape. Before Estelle knew what was happening, Orion had scooped her up as their mother grabbed Willow and the family took off for the exit. They barely managed to squeeze through and gasped as they saw people being grabbed and dragged to the ground by these...monster. The family ran for the car and Luna quickly buckled Willow in, her hands shaking.

Orion then suddenly felt a hand grab his ankle and try to jerk him to the ground. Estelle screamed and his arms tightened around her as he twisted free of the man and kicked him hard in the head. He then shoved Estelle inside and leaped in after her, slamming the door shut. Tires screeched as his father peeled out of the parking lot. They arrived home to the same madness and packed the car as full as it could get before driving away. As they left the city, they passed by so many people waving for help and as much as Luna wanted to stop and help them, Mark kept driving. They eventually reached Oklahoma but it was in the same state of chaos. Estelle tucked herself against Orion's side and as he ran a hand soothing through her hair, he whispered that everything was going to be okay.


Orion held onto Estelle's hand tightly as they ran through the tress. He could see his father ahead of him carrying Willow as his mother ran beside him. The crackling sound and screams of the dying faded as they distanced themselves from the burning ranch. They eventually stopped after Mark felt they had gotten a safe distance away. Orion leaned against a tree, panting as he tried to catch his breath. Estelle leaned against him as Willow was swept into their mothers arms. Orion watched his father pace before hitting a tree in anger. Orion could understand why he was upset. He had warned his parents against spending any extended time at the ranch, that it was a safe place. No where was. And now look what happened: invaded by a horde and mostly everyone either bitten or burned in the fire that broke out in the panic.

Orion sighed, looking down at Estelle. The child's eyes were wide with fear and she clenched his hand tightly. Mark then came over and drew Orion a little ways away. Orion gazed at his father in puzzlement as the man sighed and slowly drew back the collar of his shirt. Orion sucked in a shocked breath as he stared at the bite mark, eyes shooting up to meet his fathers. Orion wanted to deny it, wanted to say this was all a bad dream but the evidence was staring him right in the face. His knees felt like they were going to give out. This...This couldn't be happening! His father couldn't be bitten! "Your mother was bitten to, on her calf." Mark said in a deceptively calm voice. Orion clenched his hands at his side, already knowing what his father was going to say but not wanting to accept it. "I'll give you everything your mother and I have in out backpacks though I am going to keep a pistol and two bullets. You are to take your sister's hands and you are to walk. Do you understand me? Never stop walking. And don't look back. Don't look back."

Orion was already shaking his head by the time his father had finished, tears spilling down his cheeks. Mark grabbed Orion by the shoulders and shook him sharply, Orion meeting his father's steely gaze. "This is the end for me and your mother but you still have Estelle and Willow. They need you to look after them. You need to protect them. Do you understand me? Don't you dare give up on them." He pulled Orion into and embrace, Orion wrapping his arms tightly around his father. "Mac(Son), even if you won't see us, we will always be with you." They pulled away and went to join Luna and the girls. By the tears streaming down the twins' faces, Luna had apparently explained to them what was happening. Orion hugged his mother tight as Willow and Estelle ran into their fathers arms. After the tearful good-byes and Orion distributed their parents gear among himself and the twins, he took their hand and started walking. Not too long after, two gunshots rang through the air. Orion flinched and tightened his hands around the twins. It was quiet, broken only by the girl's sobbing.

Orion felt a numbness spread through him and all he wanted to do was curl into a ball and forget the world, forget this entire nightmare. But, as he gazed down at Estelle's tear-stained face, he knew he couldn't do that. There were still people who needed him. So, he took a deep centering breath and kept walking.


Willow coughed again, a deep rattling sound that cause a chill to run down Orion's spine. When the girl had first started coughing a few weeks ago, he thought nothing of it since Willow always had problems with her allergies. But as the days progressed, the coughing got worse and she developed a fever and soon she started coughing up blood. Broken from his thoughts, Orion barely caught the girl as she collapsed and lowered her gently to the ground. Her skin was burning up and she could barely open her eyes. Orion had never felt so helpless. He had tried every medicine they had but nothing seemed to be working. What did he do?! He didn't know where they were or were help might be. He felt anger well up inside him and he punched the ground in anger. He pushed the tears back as he meet Estelle's eyes. She plopped next to him and leaned against him, the two listening to each painful breath that Willow took.

A few hours later, Orion felt the girl in his arms let out a final rattling breath before she stilled. Panic shot through him and he laid her on the ground. "No, no, no! Come on Willow, don't give up on me!" He tried performing CPR but nothing he did re-started her heart. Sobbing, Orion collapsed to the ground, wanting to scream, hit something. Estelle collapsed next to him, sobbing as she leaned over Willow's still form. Her wail of agony echoed through the forest.


Orion glanced up, eyes scanning around warily before he focused on the sign above him. It read Welcome to Wilmington He sighed. Different town, same story, dead everywhere. He glanced down at Estelle and smiled softly as he took her small hand in his own and began walking. They encountered few of the dead on their way into town though there were a few stragglers that Orion dispatched swiftly with his katana. "We need to find shelter for the night. We should head towards a neighborhood and hole up in one of the houses." He commented as he glanced at the sky. Estelle nodded in agreement and the two set out. They hadn't made it very far when they came upon a group of Walkers. The siblings froze but it was too late. The zombies spotted them and began shuffling towards them, groans filling the air. Orion swore and grabbed Estelle's hand, the two turning and fleeing. They didn't make it very far before Orion stumbled over a pothole in the street he didn't see and cried out as he fell, a cracking sound sounding out.

Estelle whirled, spying her brother laying on the ground clenching his ankle in pain. She raced back and tugged at his arm, trying to help him to his feet but his leg just collapsed around him when he tried. He looked around with frantic eyes and noticed they were next to a eighteen-wheeler with a ladder dangling off the side of the trailer. Gritting his teeth, he used to side of the trailer to push himself to his feet before grabbing Estelle's light form and lifting her up to the ladder. She scrambled to the top and peered over the rim as he used his arms to slowly drag himself up to the top. Just in time as the group reached the trailer and reached grasping hands up at them. Orion sat on the top, catching his breath. He looked at his sister to see her looking at him with concerned eyes. He was quiet as his brain worked through their dilemma. "My ankle is out of commission Estelle. I can't even put weight on it never mind use it to run. We're trapped up here. This trailer is right next an open window. I'm going to hoist you through and you are going to leave me."

Estelle stared at him for a few moments before what he said sunk in. She frantically shook her head. "No! I'm not going to leave you!" She cried, the dead below them groaning louder at her exclamation. She collapsed to her knees next to him, tears spilling down her cheeks. She kept uttering weak denials until Orion grabbed her shoulders. "Estelle! Listen to me, you are going to get up and you are going to run. Keep running, never stop. Stay away from big places. Remember, you might find a place that seems safe but it isn't. Keep walking. Never stop. I love you, Deirfiúr(Sister)." He pulled her into a hug as she sobbed onto his shoulder.

After a few moments they broke apart and he watched as she looked at him one last time before her small form disappeared through the open window. A tear rolled down his cheek before he looked down at the death that awaited him below. He withdrew his gun and bared his teeth at the Walkers, taking aim and began to fire into the horde, dropping corpses left and right.

Estelle looked around the room she had climbed into. It looked like an apartment over a shop. It was silent and she winced as Orion's gun began firing. She stumbled on weak legs towards the door and silently opened it, peering out. There was a staircase leading down and she crept down it, knife clenched in her hand. She stepped into a herb shop and carefully looked around. It was empty, blood splattering the wall but free of bodies, living or otherwise. She took a few minutes before she gathered herself and began looking for a backdoor. Her brother's sacrifice was not going to be in vain. She was on her own now. She eventually found a backdoor and eased out of it. It lead out into a street, a convenience store resting across from her.

Suddenly, voices caught her attention and the little girl froze as she watched as two figures came bursting out of the the store. Estelle gasped, not having seen other human beings in a while. She was so surprised that she didn't hear the shuffling until it was too late. She turned as a groan sounded out behind her and let a scream at the hands reaching for her. She stumbled back, evading the grasping hands and tripped over a broken pipe. She landed on her bottom and began scooting backwards as the Walker ambled after her.

[Wade Wilson]

If dead men tell no tales, then why do they walk the planet?

----------------------------------
The Apartment Group
The Supermarket on 8th St
Wilmington, Delaware
----------------------------------

----x----

@McHaggis -:- @XxLyraxX

----x----

Todd froze when he heard the young girl scream. He immediately pulled his hood down and took his bandana off, shoving it in the trolley. It revealed his (now messy) dark brown hair, and flashed his yellow complexion a little more. There was alert and a sort of sadness in his eyes, along with a firey spark of determination.

"Scout, I'm gonna need you to cover me and look after the trolley. Shoot any zombies that come my way, will ya?"

Yet again, his BC-41s were slipped onto his knuckles, and he ran over to the girl, punching the zombie in the jaw and then shoving his left blade into its skull, watching it go lifeless. He grabbed it, ripping the blade out, and pulling the knuckledusters off and gently setting them on the ground, helping the kid up.

"Are you alright?"

There was a tone of alarm in his voice, as he tried to wipe the blood onto his clothes, both from his blades and his hands. If that zombie hadn't been so decomposed, he and the girl would've probably been eaten by now. He looked around to make sure that Scout was still there, and that there weren't anymore druggies wanting to rip his throat apart, before placing his weapons in his bag. He led the girl over to the trolleys, where his balaclava went back on and his hood back up.

"That zombie didn't bite you, did it? Are you hurt at all?"

[XxLyraxX]

@McHaggis || @Wade Wilson


Estelle thought she was goner as the Walker grew closer and closer. She looked around frantically for the knife that had been knocked out of her grip when she fell and the Walker lunged for her. She turned just in time to see its rotten face grow closer and her mouth opened in a silent scream. Suddenly, a fist came out of no where and slammed into the zombie, knocking it away from her. The fist was attached to a boy probably about six years older than her and she watched as he slammed a blade into the zombies skull. Estelle lay where she had fallen, staring up at the boy with wide eyes. His task complete, Estelle couldn't help but flinch back when he placed his weapons on the ground. The girl snatched up her fallen knife from the ground and backed a few paces away from him.

Even though he saved her life, Orion had instilled a wariness of all strangers and so she regarded the boy with guarded eyes. At his question if she was alright, she nodded as she watched him wiping the gore from his hands. Luck for them, that Walker had been for a while and was in the process of decomposing. If it had been faster she would probably be dead now.

"Thank you for saving me." She said softly, relaxing her grip on her knife. When he tried to lead her over to the other person, she resisted at first before realizing that these two might be able to help her safe Orion. Because even if she dispatched all the zombies, she still wouldn't be able to move him. She needed someone bigger. She followed after the boy and looked at both of them. "I need help. My brother hurt his ankle and is trapped up on a eighteen-wheeler. He can't walk and I can't move him by myself, will you help me?" She asked in a determined voice, shoulders hunched slightly. Though she tried to look calm, she was trying not to dissolve into tears again at the thought of her brother being lost to her.

[Exit]

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

Chase waited just outside the doors to the safehouse for Sarah and Wilhelm to catch up, observing the sun as it began to set in the distance. Orange light sunk behind the skyline to the West and soon the blue canvass above turned to a deep purple and the first stars began to appear in the night sky. What was once warm and stifling air quickly cooled to a light chill that was easier to breath and felt refreshing to the lungs. It gave a weary man some peace and much needed energy and helped to dissuade the urge to simply duck out and leave the group behind. As he stood there beneath a darkening sky, listening to the whispers of the wind and watching the last bits of color fade from the clouds, he realized that had things gone according to plan, he wouldn't be standing where he was now: Waiting on people he didn't care for so he could help them continue to struggle on with their miserable lives... and standing in the middle of a small deserted town staring at a sunset.

There was something in the back of his mind telling him that the moment was supposed to be beautiful but the rest of the noise in his head drowned it out. He was more concerned about the fact that he was once again outside and back in his element. He felt at home and almost safer even if there was the slight urge to "get the fuck on". Light was fading and Chase didn't want to stay outside all night. However before he could put words to his protest, the Russian and the girl found him.

"So..." Chase began, pulling open a map of the town and holding it up for the other two to see. "Because we have limited light and time, our pickings are slim. Luckily for the three of us, there's a pharmacy just down the street from here." There on the map was a marker showing their current location, a red dot over a square that was labeled "University of Delaware Downtown Center". From there, a line had been drawn to an adjacent dot not more than a block away. At about a minute's walking distance away, a Rite Aid Pharmacy was gold. Medical supplies were literally and possibly within arms reach. Of course, as it was with Chase, there was always bad news to accompany the good news.

"Given that weeks have already passed and from personal experience, I can tell you both that the place is probably already picked clean... and there's always the potential for the Dead. People tend to flock toward comfort first: Churches, relatives... hospitals and pharmacies. Let's just hope they're not still there."

---x---
Rite Aid Pharmacy

Chase pressed himself against the cold glass of the front window and tried to peer inside. With the sky nearly dark and the drug store being pitch black, it was hard to make anything out but there was just enough light to see objects closest to him. There were shelves, empty shelves and more empty shelves left strewn all over the floor.

...Not good...

Besides that he couldn't see anything else and would have to settle with making the dangerous trip inside to be sure there was nothing worth taking.

"Alright. Place is fairly large but the layout is simple enough. Square building with aisles adjacent to us and parallel to each other. We'll cut the store into the three sections. Sarah." He turned to the woman who was behind him and met with the same deep brown eyes from earlier. He felt a familiar stirring in his gut... something he planned to address and soon. "You take left. I'll take center." Finally he turned to Wilhelm. "And you take right. We'll take this slow and quiet and unless you have a suppressor..." He tapped the metal cylinder screwed over the barrel of his handgun. "Melee only."

With the gun in his right hand and a small flashlight in his left, Chase carefully pushed open the front door and stepped inside a very... very pitch black Rite Aid.

[Shoe Thief]

Hunter Monroe

Hunter has made a lot of mistakes in his lifetime. One of his more famous ones would be accidentally blasting his dad's truck with his dad's brand new twelve gauge double barrel, with some less then legal slugs that were designed to destroyed pretty much anything it hit on contact. Though this one may have topped it, well Scout and Todd were heading to the store, Hunter got carried away in a "Book store". Saying he would be right back. A few pages into his magazine he heard the shots. "Son of a fuck..." He rolled up the magazine into his pocket and grabbed his rifle. Not a lot of bullets left inside of it but it was still a gun, and it had ammo at all. Hunter took off like he was back to playing football back at camp again, which meant he ran really fast at first then got tired, then went for a steady jog.

Hunter found Todd first, and another girl? Damn, at this rate it seemed there would be more girls then guys. Food was his first priority but he was okay with this changing ratio to be honest. "Yo, Todd, what the hell's going on?" Though it was pretty obvious, dead dead people, undead dead people, the usual. Hunter then looked at Estelle. "Who the hell are you?" He came across more rude then he meant but as far as he saw the situation it was a life or death moment.

[Foster]

Wilhelm Taggart

Rite Aid Pharmacy

@Exit@CandiBarr
Chase | Sarah Rivera

Taggart looked at the map, and although everybody figured 60 seconds of brisk walking was all it took, he mentally calculated any delays, such as bounding from cover, waiting-out any odd noises ahead, and detours which could more than triple their travel time. Still, it was barely more than 100 yards, a kid with a .22 long-rifle could cover them from the safety of their shelter if need arose.

Due to being so nearby, knowing a clear path was fairly straightforward as Chase did whatever people in his profession learned to do when busting into a place. Still, Wilhelm decided to look for himself through the safety of the window before going-in with the others. The mention of no shooting elicited the young wiry man to open the bolt, pull out the 5th cartridge, press the 4-stack beneath the interrupter, and close the bolt on an empty chamber, decocking the firing-pin as he did-so; he'd still have four in the mag, just in case things got hairy.

Inside, along the right-aisle was the checkout-lane and the pharmacy-counter behind-which he knew sat a locked refrigerator full of perishable drugs, most likely spoiled by now due to lack of power, but one never knew. He also scanned the aisles, mostly greeting-cards and instructional-booklets for losing weight, a few tabloids and other magazines. He grabbed a slight assortment of outdoor-magazines, figuring they'd keep the idlers entertained when they returned.

That's when he heard a moan.

Looking down, he saw half a body pinned under a book-rack reaching for his feet, wearing what was left of the company uniform. Poor sod. Time to put it out of their misery...

He pile-drove the steel-buttplate of his nine and a half pound rifle square on the top of the rotter's head, causing it to bounce off the tile floor, leaving a series of messy splatter where blood and snot and whatever else was ejected out their nose... and yet still it moved towards his feet... He kicked it, the rotter's neck snapped with a sick wet noise, and as it hung at a 270 degree angle off their shoulders, he flipped his rifle around and drove a twelve inch bayonet through its skill, finally pinning it until everything went still and lifeless, almost calm. Taggart meanwhile, was anything but calm; the ordeal frazzled his nerves and from then-on he'd always second-guess how much force was ever enough when trying to kill the dead.

However there wasn't time to contemplate a new philosophy, as no sooner had his heartrate began to settle when he heard a shot ring-out.

[Exit]

C H A S E
Rite Aid Pharmacy
Wilmington, Delaware
@Foster @CandiBarr
---x---

It was only a minute into their sweep when Chase had decided the place was clear. It was too quiet and dark and their entrance had been all the noise they'd need to draw any of the dead out. He'd spent the first handful of seconds clearing the left side of the pharmacy, sweeping through empty aisles and finding little more than dust and toppled shelves. The other two followed in tandem, their dark silhouettes barely visible against the pitch black. They were for now keeping up with him and more than likely finding as much to loot as he was. Chase however wasn't concerned with drugs. There was a primal urge calling to him from his gut, something he hadn't heard in a long time or maybe something he'd been ignoring all along.

The girl, Sarah. She made her pass through the center of the store between the two men in near perfect cover. Should something come at her from either side, she'd wouldn't be alone in her fight. It was strategic placing on Chase's part if safety had been either of their concerns... but it wasn't. Sarah payed no attention to her right flank and kept glancing across the aisles to her left. Their eyes locked every now and again as if they were trading invisible messages and eventually Chase sent the right one. They both stopped, and after only a seconds hesitation, Sarah left the center aisles and made her way over to him. They said nothing to each other as one lead the other into one of the side rooms and shut the door behind them.

In that dark room everything stopped. The need to survive, to scavenge, to kill. Whether or not the Russian was okay trying to clear an entire pharmacy on his own. None of that mattered. The only thing on Chase's mind was the small woman undressing behind him and how much time they had. Not much by his calculations and he didn't intend to waste any of it... and neither did she. By the time Chase had turned from the door, she'd already pulled her shirt over her head and both hands had found the buckle on his belt. He did the same, tearing his jacket off his back and grabbing the hem of his shirt to hoist it over his head. He tossed them both to the side just as he felt the familiar release of tension around his waist. He looked down to see the brass holding his pants together hanging undone and defeated below him. Pale white and eager hands moved to undo the zipper and Sarah leaned in to bite a chunk out of his chest. He countered, snaking his arms around her back and hoisting her up in the air. He pinned her against the opposite wall and returned the favor, his teeth gracing the soft skin of her neck. It was a primal dance with basic intent, not unlike that of the Dead and one that would be cut a little short. Static cut through the sexual tension in the room.

"...Confirm our Hunter made contact in Delaware."

The both of them froze but Chase's heart stopped.

"Confirm. Chase made contact. Report is 15 heads. Light arms with some ex-military. Full stash. Hunter says it's a go. Awaiting his s-" Chase killed the radio.

A heavy silence followed as he turned to look at Sarah who turned from the radio on his hip to him. With her still pinned against the wall and her arms and legs wrapped around him, their eyes locked for the hundredth time that day and this time, silent words that neither one of them wanted to share were exchanged. In the deep of her eyes, Chase could see the dots starting to connect and a realization set in. Within a handful of seconds she understood exactly what was going on and who he really was. A second after that and Chase saw something click in the back of her mind. He opened his mouth to speak.

"Lis-"

Sarah let go of him and pressed both hands and feet against his chest. With back against the wall, she pushed with every ounce of strength she could muster. It was a lot more than either of them expected. Chase released his grip on Sarah and stumbled backwards a good three steps before tripping over a piece of merchandise some inept store associate was too lazy to pick up a month ago. He fell on his back and Sarah fell from her spot on the wall onto her ass. With the same quick hands she used to undress Chase, she went for the 9 millimeter on her hip, pulled it from it's holster and flipped it around to face him. However before she could squeeze off a round, Chase had already rolled left toward safety, albeit away from his gun and pulled a knife from his boot. He flipped the blade around in his hand and lunged at her. Sarah quickly adjusted her aim and pulled the trigger eliciting a loud bark from the gun and a muffled scream from her lips. Before the sound could leave her throat, Chase closed the distance between the two of them and slammed one hand across her mouth and the blade in the other hand into her chest.

Sarah felt ice pierce her skin and a tremendous amount of weight press against her diaphragm squeezing every last ounce of air from her lungs. She struggled against him to no avail and before long darkness began to close in around her. The last thing she saw before she blacked out was Chase: His face only a breath away with one cold eye staring back at her and the other covered in blood from the wound she inflicted.

[Shoe Thief]

Hunter Monroe

The dead started to close in on Hunter, Todd, and the new person. If they were smart they could take on the undead around them. He took aim with his rifle and fired a shot, severing one's head into pieces. Then he fired again, grazing one but it still kept going so he fired again. Then again, then again. The fifth shot is when things started going wrong. He fired his rifle for the fifth time, but the thing was already pretty beaten up. "BOOM!" The rifle went in his hands, the chamber exploding out the side and pieces of the rifle scattering everywhere. "FUCK!" Hunter screamed as the pieces of the rifle went into his hand and face.

He fell to his knees screaming with blood coming from his hand and face. He knew this wasn't the time to panic, they told him how to try and ignore pain in training but he couldn't do it, his face was burning, he could see the blood. He was scared to die, he was scared of getting eaten. He was scared over all.