}{Mass Hysteria}{ [CLOSED]

Chinatown was dense; a neighborhood meant to squeeze as many people together in order to compensate for the influx of immigrants. The buildings were close, almost unbearably so. The halls were narrow enough to induce panic to someone who wasn't even claustrophobic, and the rooms were filled with bodies beyond their capacity. Floors creaked and walls slowly crumbled from the gathering of insects tearing down its foundation. Windows were shattered like the city, the pieces broken and separate. Six months have passed and the silence was still unnerving. It was a corpse now, and the living were simply the maggots that clung for survival.


Bobby accepted that. He clung to life like any other human would. Self preservation was his only goal in this new world and he had no qualms of killing if it meant he could live.


Kneeling next to a corpse, he rummaged through the body to see if he could find anything useful before leaving Chinatown and heading north to Harlem. There was nothing left in this place. No food, no humans, not even Strollers were present. Three days of sweeping the area made sure that anything and everything useful for his trek north was taken. He had been particular about that course of action, but he wasn't one to let opportunity go to waste and believed that a boon would present itself if he was relentless in his search.


He stood up, patting his hands together to rid itself of the dust and walked out to the fire escape, empty-handed. The metal groaned with hatred as he stepped onto the platform and climbed down into the empty streets. There was a cool wind that brushed against his face as he jumped the last remaining feet down onto the concrete. He adjusted his pack and brought up the hood of his sweatshirt onto his head, making sure the shadow covered his eyes from the blazing sun.


With the wind against his back, it ushered him forward, leaving a gray and silent land behind.
 



Samantha
Location: Albany, New York


Sighted: None




Sam was alone. As light rose up a peeked through the blinds of her boarded pent house, she knew it was time to leave. She had been boarded up too long, and she knew her luck was soon to run out if she didn't move soon. As she stretched, she noticed the strange growth at her bedroom window had gotten worse since yesterday. The vines now covered most of the top frame, and she was almost certain it had only been half last night. Either way, Sam stood up, tossing her hair behind her and gathered only the things that would be useful to her. She tossed it all in her blue jansport backpack before pulling on her nikes and heading into the living room. She poured the whole canister of fish food into he beta, Jin's, tank. "See ya little buddy." she whispered, fist bumping the tank before walking out her front door.

There, about five feet away from where she was standing, laid the small Tabby cat that she had been feeding daily since she moved to New York. The tom cat's insides were spilled across the concrete walkway in a clear path to the parking lot. In the state it was in, it had to have been dead for days already, and the smell of rot drifted through the air around it. This sight caught Sam off guard, causing her to vomit, making the foul smell even worse. She quickly turned her sight away from the animal and continue to walk on, trying to shake the image from her head. It was odd, she had seen images of humans sprawled out the exact same way and she never even shed a tear for them, but seeing the cat really woke her up. She was heading out into the real world now, and it didn't seem very welcoming to the college student.

She drifted through the parking lot like a lost puppy, unsure of where exactly she would be headed to. Her mind flashed to Freshman History, to the story of New York, and how it came to be. It had been named after the European city of York, and was one of the very first places that people began to settle in once coming to America. New York was actually very rich in farm land, but people found better use for all the space. When the industrial revolution came around, flat buildings quickly became skyscrapers in order to fit in all the factories that would soon pop up all around the U.S.A. New York offered many jobs, and some people began to call it the land of oppurtunity.

Did this nickname still stand? Even with the dead walking, was this still the land of oppurtunity? Sam was unsure, but she certainly didn't believe there were any dreams to grasp in this dead infested place.

 
The snakes. They were touching her, clinging to her, wrapping their bodies around her, choking her, killing her. A horrendous sob fell out of her mouth, a noise so animal-like she fully believed they were all creatures on the food chain until the hands on her body made her realize they weren't on the food chain- they were the top of it. Her mind clattered to a halt and her world began to twist and tumble until the midnight blue of darkness encompassed her mind and her eyes rolled in the back of her head as a slight drizzle of under-developed foam dribbled out of her mouth.


She hacked weakly as Roman took her into his arms. The wolf was warm, the wolf felt like her brother, and yet he didn't. He was rigid, chiseled, not completely man yet not completely beast. She sunk into him as he carried her, desperate for warmth as cold seeped into her bones, stiffening her joints and causing her to shiver. Wolf not man. This was perhaps the only thought that allowed her to stay as still as her flailing limbs would allow as he carried her.


Harlow's open eyes saw this dark haired man, but then she saw a dark haired wolf. She couldn't decide what scared her more. Her eyes closed and his arms, wrapped around her so carefully, set her down. Her mind drifted in and out of consciousness as her body was stabilized and her world churned with the tormented nightmares of snakes and panthers and wolves chasing rabbits in a circle until the rabbit was perhaps chasing the wolf but the snakes became hurtles and the panther such a rough wall that she was forced to come a halt and the wolf caught up. Her back pressed against the wall as the man approached her with a growl to his teeth. So close... so close. She could feel his hot breath against her body and fear jolted through her nightmare-induced self until she felt the sweet saliva of a long lick, and suddenly the wolf was no wolf, but just a simple dog.


She reached out to pet him but once again he was a wolf and she was just a lowly bunny. Only, instead of eating her as he assumed she would, he curled up around her, offering her his warmth. And suddenly she was half dead and half alive, eyes open but body shut. Arms wrapped around her, held her safe in the warmth, and her heart began to beat with such a profusely painful thud that she just had to open her eyes. The wolf man held her in his arms, carrying her away from the snakes and the panther, from the obstacles in their way. He was taking her somewhere... perhaps his den, where she would either live to tell the tell or die and become a mere myth.



Location: Ithaca College Campus - Outside

Status: Severely dehydrated and sunburnt.

Tags: @Soylent @DreamsAreForDreamers

Notes: Sorry I took forever!
 
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Logan walked. Its what he has been doing for the past six months, walking, a little bit of surviving. Walking from what, though? He walked from his past, from his brother's resting place and Manhattans military forces' last stand. Logan tucked his hat lower and kept walking away from the city, every once in a while glancing to the thought to be busted radio, since he can never get anything to come up other than static.


His R5, slung down at his waist, bumps uselessly into his hip and thigh. He breaks into a jog, ducking into an alley to avoid a group of switchers, climbing up a maintenance ladder to the roof. He gives a quick survey of the area, looking for any signs of others, not that he'd team up with them, he preferred to be alone, being around others was too much on him, it reminded,him of the fun he had with his father and brother, and not to mention having to find food for others and having to deal with their complaining AND having to deal with more loss if one were to die. He sits against an air vent that long since stopped, and takes out a Nature's Valley bar. He eats it, thinking about where to go as he watches the sun creep above the skyline. New York is now as dead as the strollers who roam within it, dead as his father and brother. He wish Ryan were here, to give him some advice, help him push through the hellscape that was New York.
 
Macy's was a wonderful place to be when you are alone in New York City. Jamison has spent almost two weeks there. when New York was evacuated nothing was taken with them, so he had all the clothes he could ever possibly want and all the canned food he could ever need for a while. One section of the store had bed so he also go to enjoy a comfortable bed at night. things had definitely started to look up for him.


Right now, Jamison was venturing further from the safety of Macy's to the surrounding buildings. His bow strapped to his back and his quiver attached to his leg. A gun slipped into the waist band of his new jeans and his bag across his back. As he walked he made an effort to step over anything that might make any sort of noise, while at the same time paying attention to the sounds around him.


Jamison always thought that when he got to New York he would crawling with Strollers. But it was oddly barren, at least New York city was. Jamison started up a ladder to a building that was just taller then Macy's to watch as the golden rays of light signaled the rising sun and the beginning of a new day. But when he got up there he saw a figure sitting on top of an old air vent staring off into the distance. He quickly took his bow off his back and Notched an arrow pointing it right at the figure.


@LoneSniper87 if that's okay, figured it would be a good way to jump in. also i won;t answer till the morning i'm going to bed, but i wanted to get into the rp
 

Rena Frost - Location: Ithaca College Campus. 4 hours from NYC - Mentions:

@McMajestic @Soylent



no slide no slide no slide no slide no slide


Rena felt herself get tugged away from the girl, but before Luna could react she stopped her. The girl looked like she knew what she was doing and it's better than Rena guessing what to do. She heard the girl called the man, Roman to pick the girl up. So, she guessed that was his name. Roman is a nice name for a very hot man. She feels someone snaps her fingers at her and Luna. She glares at the girl and stops Luna from again attacking the girl "No matter how hot you are. Girl I will let my sister take action if you snap your fingers at us again. I am sorry for how we had to meet, but damn it stop treating us like we are idiots. You don't know us. "


Rena then follows the girl into an entrance through the barrier. She was ignoring the girl and tugging her sister through the entrance. She held Luna's hand softly making sure not to let go of her if this was a trick or something. She heard the girl say watch your step and she scoffs muttering "Yea that isn't obvious." She heard Luna snickers at her comment. What was obvious was the Rena was very annoyed with the girl, it wasn't her fault that her sister is an overprotective idiot, they have been through a lot and she was just looking out for her. They followed the girl into the campus. She saw the girl being placed on the ground and looked to the girl saying.


"Is she going to be OK? I'm sorry for my sister again, but she's just being overprotective. We've been through a lot and she just doesn't want something to happen to me. I hope you can understand that." The last thing they needed to do was fight. Fighting would just lead them to their death's way quicker. Somehow they had to learn to work together and not get on each other nerves or else, the world is going to be doomed to be like this forever.


no slide no slide

 
Logan hears the faint sound of the bow being drawn back, he turns, drawing one of hos silenced M9s and aiming it at his head. "I suggest you lower that before someone gets hurt" He hops off the air vent, a look of malice but lingering sadness in his eyes. "I don't want trouble, and imma take a chance saying you dont go around killing at first sight. So im gonna give you a proposal, you leave me alone, and we both live. Or we sit here and see who hits who first. Your choice." The early rays from the sun cast shadows on my face, making me seem ghost-like and you could wave my hand through me as if i wasn't there. @KingHalliwell alright see ya tomorrow.
 
FIRST LT. ROMAN WOLFE


Location:Ithaca College Campus, 4 Hr drive to NYC. Mentions:

@McMajestic @DreamsAreForDreamers
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As the girl calmed down, Roman calmed down with her. He felt the thumping in his chest ease as he watched the woman's muscles visibly relax. Under the impression that the stranger could have been turning, and he had rested his hand on the pistol concealed in his waistband. After Isabel confirmed that she was going to be just fine, he removed his grip from the gun, embarassed. Of course she wasn't turning. She hadn't tripled in size. Shaking his head in self deprecation, Roman decided that the woman was stable enough to be moved.


"I'm going to take her to the breezeway. Stay with Rena and Luna."


Roman leaned down and heaved the small girl into his arms, holding her similar to how a mother holds her baby as she burps it. He made sure her arms draped on his shoulders and wrapped around his neck very slightly. Her legs limply straddled his torso and he supported her body weight by positioning his forearm under her bottom and clutching her thigh gently. His other arm embraced her in a hug, pressing their chests together. Once Roman was satisfied that she wouldn't slip from his grasp, he started the ten minute trek to the breezeway.


Five minutes in, Roman was drenched in sweat. The midday sun cut straight through the police chest plate and his long sleeved shirt, which he used to protect himself from the sun. The shirt's collar pulled at his jugular, and he cursed the button that secured it around his neck. Roman wished desperately to strip off the moist layers and fan himself, but alas, he had 107 extra pounds of pure girl plastered to his front side. He hitched the girl a little higher on his body with a grunt and walked on, disgusted by the feeling of his slippery perspiration rubbing against hers.


When they finally made it to the admissions building he climbed the three flights of stairs and gingerly dumped the girl onto his mattress, feeling slightly cooler already. He'd retrieve a new bed later. But right now, the Lieutenant was being suffocated by his NYPD uniform. Breathing heavily, he tugged violently at the straps of the chest armor and threw it on the ground, before hastily unbuttoning his shirt and disposing of it the same way, leaving him in his jeans. Roman exhaled audibly as the cool air in the breezeway danced on his bare skin, and he picked up his shirt and used it to dry off his face, neck, and armpits. The air dried his torso and back, leaving a chill on his flesh.


Still not looking at the girl, Roman took two MREs out of a backpack and began to prepare them, commencing the chemical reaction. He watched the world outside of the large window in front of him, thinking about how the day had taken such an odd turn. Three new survivors in just a matter of minutes.








ISABEL WOLFE


Location: Ithaca College Campus, 4 Hr drive to NYC. Mentions:

@DreamsAreForDreamers @McMajestic
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Isabel waved to her brother as he carried the girl off, and turned to Rena and Luna with a forgiving smile. "She'll be okay. And I totally understand, I'd be protective over you, too." Isabel's grin instantly dropped, and she realized what she just said. To a girl who had called her "hot." Fuck. The last thing she needed was a relationship in the damn apocalypse.


"I mean- You know, I'd be really protective over my sibling too in a time like this." She felt heat crawl up her neck, heat that didn't originate from the sun, and she sat down in a huff, inviting the girls to sit with her.


"So," she started rather awkwardly, "Tell me about yourselves. You're living with me now, so I might as well know everything." Isabel picked at the grass, observing the girls in front of her. "What are your sad stories?"


 
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Harlow rested heavily against him in her half-conscience state, her arms which rested weakly around his neck slowly moving tighter around it, feeling the sweat that pooled at the back of his neck. Her fingers slowly moved through his hair, getting stuck on tangles and so she stopped. She wasn't in her right mind at the moment so she wasn't quite sure how to be scared of this wolf. he was carrying her, treating her like his pup, not like his prey. "Wolf," she whispered, her lips moving against the crook of his neck as the single, raspy word vibrated against his flesh. She nipped at his neck, like a bunny would nip at a carrot, obviously starved and dying of thirst. His skin was salty with the promise of sweat, but her tongue pressed against his flesh all the same. Sweat was water. She was thirsty, she was dying, she wasn't sure what way was up or what way was down. Was she with the wolf or the man? Life or death?


Her eyes squinted towards the sunshine that beat down on them like a scolding mother, and she buried her face against his shoulder. "Please don't eat me," she pleaded, her words nothing more than a whisper. Even as sweat dripped down her body, sticking the back of her brother's tee shirt she was wearing to her body, and gluing stray strands of hair to her forehead, she craved the warmth this wolf gave up. It wasn't anything like the sun's harsh rays. It was comforting, something a parent would give to a child. As he adjusted her she pressed herself closer to him. She wanted the wolf, but not the man. The creature was vicious yet predictable, the man was not.


As the sun continued to rise her body began to droop until once again the aches in her body and the dehydration sent her into a light slumber. The wolf was running but so was the rabbit. In a circle, a cycle, over and over, lap after lap, until the bunny hopped on the wolf's back and suddenly the wolf was no longer a predator but a friend who sometimes growled and sometimes snapped, but never actually bit..


She awoke to the feeling of something soft beneath her. Her body was unimaginably weak, like a small rabbit's. Her head slowly tilted to the side and she stared in awe as the wolf man pulled his shirt off, eliciting a much different kind of heat than she had ever felt before. It wasn't external against her skin, or within her heart causing a sweet comfort, but rather it was low in her gut, it was dangerous, it was the animal's heat- not the human's. A small blush crept across her cheeks and she closed her eyes. if she couldn't see the man that created the animal then she could just pretend he was the wolf that created the human.


Harlow laid there for a long time, awake but unmoving, her mind not completely right. She was still delirious, still in a hallucinating state of mine, still unaware completely of the man she was with, and so her panic slowed but something else was speeding up. She couldn't quite figure out what it was though, and so she let it be as her wolf man got to work, and she awaited the sweet nutrition he was to give his little bunny.



Location: Roman's Dorm room at Ithaca College Campus

Status: Dehydrated, malnourished, sunburnt

Tags: @Soylent
 
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Albany, NY



Blood splattered against the wall as the switcher falls to the ground. "That was a lot messier than I thought" Riley commented before sheathing his machete. He then turned towards Tristan. "How's your leg?"





Angered by the question, Tristan responded angrily. "Oh how's my fucking leg? Pretty damn great. It's in shit condition yet I still gotta keep up with your ass. Why are you always in a fucking rush?" Tristan rolled his eyes after his response.


"You know if you told me you were on your period, I would have grabbed those tampons we saw at that store" Riley joked. "Hell I don't know why you're complaining. I got shot too."


Tristan rolled his eyes again. "I actually had to gauge out the bullet. That and you had a bigger caliber you fucking retard."





Lately the two have been bickering at each other. The only reason they haven't killed each other is due to the fact that they both feel they owe one another. After a bit of walking, the two decided to take a break. They were near what looked like a pharmacy, but unfortunately the door was locked. The windows however were not covered. Riley found a rock and would have thrown it at the window. The sound of windows breaking obviously attracted all the switchers in the vicinity. No problem for the two though. Their way of killing those things in melee were to simply dodge when they lunge. By that point any type of attack to the head is simple.


Clearing the pharmacy out didn't even cause the two to break a sweat. There were only like a couple switchers. Riley killed one while Tristan killed the other. Tristan rendezvous with Riley at a counter. Riley was feeling cocky and decided to show off by climbing over the counter to the other side. Clearly Tristan got pissed by that.


Immediately, Riley got to the point and grabbed a map from his bag. He'd lay it out on the table to discuss. "Okay, so we are over here" Riley explained while pointing at the map. "Now if you ask me, this place sucks. Being a capital causes attraction. Eventually more people will turn out like us." Tristan raised an eyebrow. "You're right. More like me. I doubt there'll be much people who'll be sick enough to eat others."


"Hey man. Just so you know I don't regret it" Tristan responded. It caused a disgusted looking face to form on Riley.


"Either way, I thought about heading south."


"Is there a certain reason for that?" Tristan asked.


"Not necessarily. I just figured its best to keep moving for now" Riley let out a sigh. "It's weird asking this questions since we tried to kill each other a couple hours ago, but are you in?"


Tristan just stared at Riley for a bit. He rolled his eyes for the third time. "You know, we barely know each other at all. What we do know is that we can defend each other pretty well. Don't disappoint me Riley."


 
Louis Colberton


Louis looked at the other man, still smiling. The other’s little too sharp grin bothered him a little. It wasn’t entirely right, something was off, not natural and somehow tense. Just like the man’s posture.


Maybe it was because their situation; the officer doubted his own grin looked entirely sane now, especially paired with how he was speaking. It was pretty ironic, how much context means. He was quite sure his casual style and relative nonchalance looked more than a little bit odd. The horror and loneliness of the last months turned everything upside down, ruining all pretense of normalcy overnight. It was absurd, to be honest.


Scanning his “fellow human being” over again, properly, he noticed a shotgun on his back. It made him feel a short pang in his stomach, but the other wasn’t reaching for it. Louis smiled, sliding the knife back into the sheath, lifting up his hands to show he is unarmed, too.


Not such an old man, huh. Certainly a bit younger than his father would be. Means he can be still fit.


When the other spoke, it made him even more relaxed, especially the last sentence, equally absurd to his own speech, conjuring back normalcy. And he would swear it was real playfulness.


“Now this is quite a good day indeed, nice weather” he agreed, moving out further into the open, absconding every single precaution now. “Sadly I cannot offer you that wide range of drinks and snacks, but I have black tea, water, vodka and chocolate liquor. Maybe some granola bars and Mars, if you wish.”


Louis grinned at the other man.


“Louis Colberton, revenant of the second rescue company, at your service. May I invite you for sitting down and enjoying the weather with some drinks and snacks until the sun goes down? After that, I can provide you a mostly safe place to stay, with admittedly limited resources… Mr…?”


He was somewhat relieved. Finally, a human came here; his signal was seen. Now, maybe for another one, if they could keep the signals going…


@Elephantom
 
FIRST LT. ROMAN WOLFE


Location:Ithaca College Campus, 4 Hr drive to NYC. Mentions:

@McMajestic
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As the chemical reaction cooked the food, Roman set the bags down and dug around in his backpack. He found two 16 oz water bottles and exited the breezeway after kicking off his shoes and socks, filling the bottles to the brim in the nearby bathroom. Roman dipped his head under the faucet and guzzled the liquid, gulping noises emitting from his throat. Then he positioned his head so the water soaked his sweaty scalp, leaked onto his neck, and trailed between the muscles of his back.


Roman retreated from the faucet and whipped his head, shaking his wet hair out much like a dog does after getting out of the water. He braced his arms on the sink and gazed at himself in the mirror with the hint of a smile. Boy, did he look tired. Roman examined himself, every inch of his skin, and came across something intriguing. There were minuscule bruises on the side of his neck, right where the stranger had rested her lips. Although the interaction was quite odd, he had to admit that the flesh on his neck had grown exceptionally sensitive due to the lack of touch throughout the years. In other words, it felt good. But Roman was not a man who took advantage of a woman in her delirious state, so he quickly let it go.


The cool tile refreshed the burning soles of his feet, and he returned to the girl, content, and with an empty bladder. He still didn't address her as he unfurled the now cooked MREs: chicken pot pie and chili + macaroni. His favorites. He was giving his two favorite MREs to a stranger, and he had no clue why.


Roman stuck a plastic utensil in each of them and crawled over to the mattress, one MRE in each hand, the water bottles dangling from his forefingers by their handles.


"Hey," he whispered, afraid to alarm the girl, "I have food and water for you."





 
Charles William Faulkner /Chie


The lock was hard to convince gently, but finally, when Chie almost gave up hope, it clicked and the door opened as he pushed down the handle.


He almost jumped from the screech, risking falling down the stairs, but managed to keep his balance. Damned rust. No one was around to oil the hinges since a while… he had to open the door wider really slowly, avoiding any more sounds. That first squeak was way too loud… the man reached back for his axe, slowly. It felt goddamned heavy… he let it hang loose by his side, he knew he could move into attack anytime from this position.


Chie stepped out to the roof, crouching down and looking around carefully. There were chimneys obstructing the view, the wide rusty whites of antennae, some solar panels, and…


…the water tank was there, seemingly intact. He could see the yellow signs on its side. Chie sighed gratefully.


Well, checking the environment comes first…


…he jerked aside and rolled out of way from the incoming attack just in time, his left hand still gripping the axe. He moved without any elegance, with jerky efficiency. Jumping to his feet. Dodging.


Damn it. It was a lonely stroller, in a somehow weakened state, thankfully slow, but still scarily strong. Most likely, the door’s creaking attracted it; the first sound he made today. Bad luck.


Hm. Switchers were not smart. Chie kept dodging, always backing towards a small gap between two chimneys. It was wide enough for him, maybe he can lure the stroller there and trick him into trying to pass the gap. Even if it wouldn’t be stuck for long, still… he only needs a moment.


Unbelievably, he managed it. He ducked through the gap just in time, the creature’s hands ineffectively slashing at his strengthened coat, and when the stroller tried to follow him, Chie raised his axe.


It was really just a moment. The switcher tried to push itself through the gap, and he almost managed it with half shoulder already free, but Chie took a swing at him. Even if he wasn’t strong anymore, the adrenalin gave him enough power for a moment to lift up the weapon high enough, and to start the arc. The rest was taken care of by inertia and gravity.


The man panted for a while, trying to retrieve his axe from the smashed skull, and checking around to see whether are there any more. Nothing else moved, which was good; he wouldn’t be able to fight a second time.


When he caught his breath, he carefully cleaned down his axe with the remains of the switcher’s clothing, and looked around, surveying the roof in the scorching heat. Nothing else. Well, a few corpses. One of the woman still held a keyring in her bony hand.


“Thank you” he said to her, words slurred, when taking the keys. It even had a glittery pink pepper spray on the ring… he took it, too, and checked her bag. He became a little less scrupulous in the last months about robbing the dead… he took the pills and tampons, and the baby wipes and some kind of massage oil, leaving the ungodly amount of make-up and the smart phone. The other girl had nothing but some jewellery on…


Chie sighed, looking around for something to cover them with, and chose a sheet of tarred felt from the roof. The switcher also got some sympathy and a tarred shroud, even if he didn’t lay it down, simply because he couldn’t. He locked the door again, carefully, first oiling the hinges slightly. Not too much, he would use the rest before leaving, so the door would be still creaking when opened. It was a good alarm system paired with some simple trip wires, which were attached to the tin clutters he found. Nothing which could cause injury to others, but if disturbed, would make a lot of noise. He needed some sleep.


The heat started to become unbearable… the man was immensely grateful for the revelation that the water tank was indeed untouched, the water mostly clean and almost cool. He took the opportunity to wash up a little. The burns made sure he wouldn’t have to worry about shaving, but the heat was absurd. He still enjoyed it.


He chose a spot farther away from the corpses, hidden enough, and he laid out the solar chargers, to fill up all of them. He drank as much water as he could, and made a rudimentary berth for himself in the shadows, keeping his axe close by still.


He was murmuring quietly to himself, the nursery rhyme his daughter loved so much.


“Row, row, row your boat…”


It was almost soothing. He closed his eyes, leaning to the warm bricks against his back, and was asleep in the matter of minutes…
 
As time wore on Harlow's illusive thoughts began to drag themselves together, moving away from the wolves and the rabbits and closer to the humans that burrowed in her thoughts, the true explanations for the life she was bound to. As reality carved its way back into her mind and body, her eyes focused on the wolf man, and her breathing hitched. Shallow breaths began to heave from her lungs, and she was desperately clinging onto the meager droplets of oxygen that got into her body before she huffed them back out again. A man. Not a wolf, a man. a person. A stranger. She wanted Johnny or her father or any of her other siblings but this strange man who she had never fully seen until that moment? No. No, she didn't want him.



Tears began to stream down her face once more, trailing paths through the dirt as she looked at him, attempting to move back but stumbling instead. Her body weight pulled her down and she fell off the edge of the bed with a sharp cry, legs still resting on top of the mattress as her back hit the floor. She didn't like this. Whose bed was she in? How long had she been out. Her crying grew strong, though it was a wonder that any tears could fall with her dehydration.


She tried to sit up but only whimpered, unable to move on her own. "Please don't hurt me," she sobbed. "Please, please don't use me." She was weak and she was nothing but a victim to whatever the man wished to do with her, and she had heard plenty of stories of what hungry men did to tired women. They feasted on them, they impregnated them, they murdered and beat and stole. Her breathing got worse. She was falling back into a panic attack.


Suddenly she was coughing, hacking, choking on the very air that was supposed to bring her life as she sobbed harder and louder. "Please, please, please. I'm sorry." Why was she sorry? She didn't know or care, she just knew that she was. "I'm sorry. Don't hurt me." But then, why avoid it, the inevitable call of death? He was always passing by and one day he wouldn't just pass but rather stop. A particularly horrendous sob left her mouth and suddenly she was dry heaving for their was no food within her to leave. She retched, unable to move, unable to empty her vacant stomach, unable to do anything but wait for the wolf to have its way.



Location: Roman's room

Status: Dehydrated, malnourished, sunburnt

Tags: @Soylent
 

Rena Frost - Location: Ithaca College Campus. 4 hours from NYC - Mentions:

@Soylent



no slide no slide no slide no slide no slide


Rena felt herself blush at Isabel's words. "I never pegged you for a flirt. I guess I have a lot to learn about you." She giggles softly at the stammering woman and shake her head softly. She sadly frowns as she thinks about the events that have happened before this moment. She sat down softly in between her sister's legs who was already sitting, and thinking. Taking off her bag and other gun and putting it on the side of Luna, and leans on her sister laying her head on Luna's chest as her sister starts to softly comb her fingers through her curly hair pulling the curls slightly out. "It started pretty good, our life. My sister and I were pretty good at school. She had a 4.5 GPA and I had a 4.0 GPA. We both at good in certain things. My dad and I were close and he loved guns so I'm good at knowing my guns and using them. Our mom was good at archery and crossbows and Luna was close to her so she's good at aiming and shoot an arrow from a distance and knows how to use a sword because she wanted to know the way of the sword. We both took Martial Art classes and became masters at age 16. Life was great."


Rena was holding back tears. She missed her life before this. She missed her classes and friends, and she missed her parents and how her sister used to be. She missed it all. "I was studying to be a Family Lawyer at Harvard. While Luna was studying to be a Pediatrician also at Harvard. We were in our second year of school when the virus hit. We had to move back home to be with our parents and for a few weeks everything was fine. Switchers attacked our house sometimes, but we were able to hold them off. " Tears flowed down her face softly, as her sister held her tightly lightly rocking her back and forth knowing how hard it was to relive it again. Rena also knew she had to get out, it was causing her too much pain holding it in.


"However, one day we couldn't. I was upstairs in my room when I heard a scream, I hurried up and ran downstairs, but it was too late. My parents were getting eaten alive, Luna tried to save them, but I had to stop her. I knew it was too late. They were going to become switchers either way even if we did stop them from being eaten. I couldn't lose her too. I shot switchers in the head to prevent them from doing any more damage. My parents were still my parents when I did. They made me promise to protect Luna and for us to stick together. " Rena closed her eyes still seeing the scene play over and over in her mind. She was trying to be brave and stop her crying, but she couldn't.


"I was about to take the shot when-" She was cut off when Luna spoke. Her sister looked like she was holding back tears herself, but she wasn't showing much emotion other than that on her face "When I took the shot. I couldn't save them, but I could stop the pain they were about to go through. It's the least I could do. I couldn't save them, but I could stop them from becoming monsters."
no slide no slide

 
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FIRST LT. ROMAN WOLFE


Location:Ithaca College Campus, 4 Hr drive to NYC. Mentions:

@McMajestic
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She was scared. And he was the reason for her terror. Roman quickly scooted away from the sobbing girl, wanting nothing more than to know the reason for her distress. If he knew, then maybe he'd be able to aid her. He decided to give her the space she needed, and watched helplessly as she struggled.


"Please don't hurt me. Please don't use me." Her pleading words pierced Roman's eardrums. What kind of man did she have him pegged as? What kind of horrors did she think he committed? Roman felt his stomach fill with rage as he seethed, staring at the MREs in his hands. No, he was not an animal, an abomination that mistreated women for their sex. He had seen enough of that in the army and refused to be treated and labeled as a pig. He'd show her the man he truly was. On that vow, Roman stifled the anger in him and looked up at the woman, who had somehow ended up partially on the mattress.


Roman put the food and water down, scooted back over to the retching girl, and took her gently by the hands. "Trust me," he said with soft urgency, trying to meet her eyes, to make her really see. His fingers laced with hers, he pulled her into a sitting position and onto the mattress. Roman kept the distance between them substantial and comfortable, moving backwards whenever she advanced. It was an odd sight to see: two people sitting on a mattress, arms extended, holding hands. "Trust me," he repeated, this time in a whisper, hoping that she'd see him as a man, and not a monster. As he held her hands, Roman examined her forearms. They were an angry red, burning from the attention of the sun. He'd get to those next.


Roman unlaced their fingers and reached for the food and the water, setting it in front of her. "Drink," he motioned to the two water bottles, "You need it."





 
Harlow couldn't hide the fear in her eyes as he helped her, and although he pleaded with her to trust him she found it difficult to do so. Their fingers interlocked made her uncomfortable but she was afraid to pull away, afraid to unleash his anger, and so she allowed his touch until he moved himself, and motioned towards the food and water. The girl looked it all over before hesitantly reaching for one of the two bottles of water. She was about to turn the sealed cap, to open it and drink when she quickly realized her mistake and shook her head. "The men eat first," she whispered, her voice a quite fright that pounded in her ears as she pushed the water and food towards him.



She offered no further explanation but she would refuse until he ate or she collapsed. Tradition was not an easy thing to break, not even when her life depended on it. She stared back at the food, her dry, swollen tongue pressing against her chapped lips. She was hungry, she was thirsty, but she was a woman. She cooked, she cleaned, she watched the men eat her food in satisfaction because she was removing their hunger, making them strong, healthy, able. But this man had made her food, something she couldn't allow. He had to eat first, he had to be satisfied or she couldn't eat at all.


The second bottle of water called to her and she almost reached for it, until she noticed the wolf man still hadn't drank or ate. "Please eat," she spoke quietly, nothing but a barely audible whisper. She had no desire to rush him, to make him angry. Wolves were vicious creatures and this man was not just a man. He had the spirit of a wolf. She could not risk tapping his vicious qualities. It wasn't that she believed he was like this, it was that she believed all men were like this. She had grown up among seven brothers and one father who all lived by the same mentality and she lived by the thoughts they put in her head rather than her own.


She looked up at him finally, making eye contact with dark brown eyes, and her lip trembled as silent tears fell down her cheeks. She was still afraid despite his kind enough nature. His touch was rough but it held something tender to it, something determined. It reminded her of her brothers and yet it didn't at all. This man was so much different. Her brothers were all pack animals but this man? He was a lone wolf.



Location: Roman's room



Status: Dehydrated, malnourished, sunburnt, possible illness


Tags: @Soylent

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Sarah Jensen


The metal steps clanged noisily under Sarah’s boots, no matter how lightly she tried to tread. A quick glance at the alleyway below dispelled her worries, no switchers had come to investigate her racket, and made her grip the railing even tighter. She wasn’t afraid of heights, exactly, but being five stories up on a fire escape that didn’t look particularly well-maintained would make anybody a little nervous. The wind blasting the side of the building and trying to throw her from the flimsy metal structure with every gust certainly didn’t help.


Sarah forced her eyes back up and continued her climb. She was almost at the top, and the thought of being back on the comparatively solid ground of the apartment building was almost enough to dispel any concern for what she would find there. She had seen a light from the room the night before, the building beside it just short enough to leave the seventh story window visible from the street, and was hoping to meet more survivors. But these past six months had been hard on her optimism. She knew that even if they were still in the apartment, even if they were still alive and hadn’t fallen to the infection, they weren’t likely to have the answers she was looking for. But she had to try.


She crested the current set of stairs, just one story shy of her target, and hunched over, one hand on her knee while the other still clung to the railing, taking deep, controlled breaths to relieve the pressure building against her lungs. Her condition had been acting up all morning, something that just happened sometimes ever since she’d run out of her medicine a month after the outbreak, and climbing six stories hadn’t done her any favors.


The doctors had called it atrial fibrillation, but even after eleven years and more tests and specialists than she could remember, they still didn't know exactly why she experienced it. Which, they’d assured her, was neither unheard of nor cause for concern. Normally, as long as the symptoms were under control as Sarah’s had been, they’d have left it at that. But her parents had plenty of money and a sick daughter they’d have given it all to make healthy again, so the search had continued.


In a way, they likely had saved her life. Sarah’s apartment building had been overrun early on the night of the outbreak, when what had once been a homeless man plowed through the glass entryway and tore into the residents in the lobby. But she had only learned of that later, when she'd returned to gather the belongings she absolutely couldn't do without. She had been across town for yet another examination, this time with a visiting expert from Denmark who'd made some promising discoveries in the past year, and had left the hospital mere minutes before the outbreak began in earnest. Being outdoors in the crisis hadn’t been ideal, but it was better than being trapped inside with what would later become known as the ‘switchers’.


She had taken the fire escape, just as she was doing now, and though her apartment was quite a bit higher up the stairs had looked considerably more sturdy on the upscale Upper West Side structure. Far more upscale than she could afford, in fact, but once again her parents' love and money had come into play. Nervous about her living alone, they had insisted she stay close by and in a good neighborhood, even if that meant footing part of the bill themselves.


She hadn't been able to find them in the aftermath, hadn't even been able to speak to them as the city's cellular network had either been shut down to reserve it for emergency responders or had simply failed under the sheer number of calls. Their apartment building had been overrun as well, but their own unit was undisturbed, as if they'd been out, and Sarah clung to that hope.


It was getting easier to breath now, and Sarah readjusted her backpack before creeping up the last set of stairs to peer cautiously around the edge of the window. The scene within made her shudder. A young boy lay on a cheap looking wooden bed in the center of the room, his form appearing slightly swollen under his now too-tight clothes, as though he’d been halfway through his transformation when the bullet had removed the top of his skull and scattered bloodied pillow feathers across the beige carpet. A woman, her yellow sundress reduced to rags by her sudden growth, slumped against the mattress with a similar injury. A handgun lay discarded on the far side of the room, and just through the splintered door frame…


Sarah had just enough time to stumble out of the way before the window exploded outwards, her backpack cushioning the impact as she tumbled down the stairs. She came to a stop mere inches before she’d have rolled off the edge and to her death, ignoring the sudden fluttery feeling in her chest as she scrambled to her feet and bolted down the steps. The switcher had caught itself on the railing after bursting from the apartment and was now lumbering after her, both of their footsteps echoing through the alleyway. She considered jumping at the bottom, but a quick glance over her shoulder revealed she had enough of a lead to play it safe. She clambered down the retractable ladder, feet hitting the cement walkway just as her pursuer leapt from the last set of stairs, hitting the ground hard and sprawling on its front.


Now there were more of them, drawn by the noise and blocking her exit to the street. With no other option she turned to run deeper into the alley, where only one more switcher had shown up. Skirting around the one still struggling to its feet she raced forward, ducking to one side as the newcomer lunged and already starting to twist around as she passed under its outstretched arm. She continued her turn into a hard kick to the creature's backside, adding enough force to its already unbalanced charge to send it stumbling to its knees. It wouldn't buy her more than a few seconds, but that was all she needed to disappear around the corner.


She staggered onto the street ten minutes later, her surroundings spinning dangerously but, as far as she could tell, free of switchers for the moment. Slow and dumb, it was easy to lose them in the twisting back alleys. Dropping her backpack next to a wall and slumping to the ground beside it, she wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her forehead on them, concentrating on getting her breathing under control. She needed to decide where to look next, with her last lead having proven a dud, and more urgently she needed to get moving before the switchers drawn toward the fire escape started wandering back out onto the streets. But she wouldn’t get very far as she was now, so that would have to wait until she’d rested a bit.
 
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New York HWY 89 South





The highway was dotted by the shells of abandoned and burned out cars, but never fully blocked, thankfully. This had not been a highly trafficked route anyways, so Peter made good time south just driving until the truck ran out of gas or he could think of a better plan.


He was holding his bleeding hand above his head to restrict the bloodflow, but took it down and unwrapped the bandage to inspect the wound. It was a nasty wound, but had thankfully missed the major artery in his hand. He could articulate his fingers, but with some difficulty. He decided to wrap the wound back up and hold it back up against the roof of the pickup.


By now, it was dark and the high beams of the truck illuminated the roadway like two huge floodlights. They were the only artificial lights in view, save the barely perceptible lightening of the horizon to the south from the phantom lights of Ithaca.
 
FIRST LT. ROMAN WOLFE


Location:Ithaca College Campus, 4 Hr drive to NYC. Mentions:

@McMajestic
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147008987435626
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"Men eat first." Confused and concerned about the malnourished girl sitting in front of him, Roman completely denied her statement.


The things she was saying, the rules she was abiding by, they were completely outdated. Hell, they weren't even biblical. Scouring his mind for a time in history when women ate first, he could only come up with social gatherings in the upper class society of medieval Europe. Which was wrong. Even in the 18th century, men and women approached the food at the same time. It made Roman wonder what sick, discriminating past she really came from. He was starting to put together some theories based on her lack of willingness to touch him, the terror in her eyes, and her disposition towards how men should be treated.


Roman incredulously countered, "I'm not hungry." The fallacy slipped off of his tongue with ease as he prodded the food back to her, unsettled by the way her cheekbones protruded because of the lack of fuel in her body. How long had she gone without eating?


He sat in stone cold stubbornness, his unmoving body mirroring hers as he searched her eyes, recognizing fear and indifference toward her wellbeing. Roman noticed the way her gaze flicked to the water bottles and back to the ground with shame, and he groaned.


"Fine." He chose the MRE with the least amount of nutritional value, the chicken pot pie, and took three heaping bites of it, leaving half of it for the girl. Then he watched her out of the corner of his eye as he tilted his neck back and chugged down 1/3 of a water bottle, emitting loud gulping noises so she heard the liquid being swallowed. After wiping his lips with the back of his hand, he set the food back down in front of her and opened the other parts of the MREs. Each Meal Ready to Eat came with different sides, snacks, drinks, and deserts in addition to the main dish. The chicken pot pie came with two flavored peanut packets, hefty wheat crackers with peanut butter, dried cranberries, an energy drink of some sort, two bars of dark chocolate, and coffee. The chili-mac came with a side dish of roasted vegetables, savory biscuits, a trail mix pack, an energy drink, a brownie, and coffee. The girl needed all of it.


Roman dumped all of the side packets, organizing them on the mattress. "After you finish the main meals, start one some of these. They're good. They may not be a five star meal, but they're tasty for what they are. And they're military rations, so you'll be full soon."


He hoped that he had consumed enough of the food to convince her that she could eat. Roman backed off of the mattress, allowing her the luxury of the bed alone.





ISABEL WOLFE


Location: Ithaca College Campus, 4 Hr drive to NYC. Mentions:

@DreamsAreForDreamers
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146999055218640


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As Isabel listened to the twins' story with a heavy heart, she ripped the grass from the ground and accumulated it in to small piles. Throughout the story she listened for any warning signs, any signs of their insanity. Survivors were dangerous, no matter how sweet or sound they seemed to be. They looted, raped, slaughtered, and fended for themselves. The virus had caused many good people to fall into hysterics and commit awful crimes. People had become psychotic animals. Some chose to show their other side, some didn't.


After no red flags appeared in the sisters' story, she relaxed a little. But the two wouldn't get away with residing in the precious base camp that she had established so easily.


"What's your kill count?" Isabel started with the simplest yet most revealing question she could think of.


 
ZAAAAAAP!





The switcher fell sideways, convulsing before falling still, brains fried. His taser was also a design of his own, allowing for much high voltage than was necessarily safe and being solar charged. It's initial use was for soldiers in close-combat as a capture method, whilst still being able to kill the target with the added charging sustainability. It was honestly a very convenient tool and Arkus admired it for that reason, as self-indulgent as that was being the creator himself.


He was currently clearing out a few Switchers on the levels just below his. He was going to attempt to barricade the stairwell to the 47th floor so that he wouldn't have to persist with the arduous task of felling the slow beasts such as these. Make no mistake, they were not easy to deal with for Arkus. Granted, he was graced with great hand-eye coordination and self-awareness when it came to swift and decisive movements. But he could not block or deflect a blow from the undead scum, or he would probably be sent flying anyway. It was just as well Arkus had his taser, had he tried to wield any other melee weapon or large gun, he wouldn't be able to take the strain for too long or the knock back would throw him if it were a gun. He could handle a small pistol or some knives, but anything heavier would be inefficient if he used it.


He had got the radio working finally and had also found a small tape recorder. So he had recorded a short message describing his location and position and let it constantly play over one of the past popular frequencies when civilisation was. It was likely someone would hear it at some point and they could either take him to somewhere that was already set up or help him secure the upper levels of the building. Either way, Arkus hated having to do this all by himself. Even if the person was stupid, he could handle it if only they did the grunt work, as unpopular as it may sound. It was just the way Arkus had grown up to be.


He was cut short from his job by another Switcher that came shuffling over to him. It wouldn't have been a problem, except for the fact that the Switcher was massive. Normally, one would only be thrice the size of a normal human. This one that now moved to take a bite out of Arkus was possibly closer to quadruple that of a normal human. He towered above Arkus, his fat hands groping about. He was probably ridiculously obese when he had been alive and now it had made him into more than a mountain of a man. Arkus's eyes narrowed and he dodged right, ducking under the massive hand that attempted to swat him aside. He buzzed the taser into it's ribs and it shook violently, a low, guttural roar sounding out loud. It swung another arm at him and Arkus backed off, instead drawing one of the pistols he'd found. He aimed it at it's head, arm straight like how the guide had described and pulled the trigger. Even with such a small gun his arm shook a little from the recoil. The bullet entered the big brute's skin, but didn't seem to kill it. His skull must be a bit too thick for the bullet calibre, Arkus thought, groaning.


He sprinted forward and slide under it's legs, then spinning around and kicking it's knees. It fell forward like a tree crashing down to Earth. Arkus then jumped onto it's back and fired numerous shots into the back of it's head, where he assumed a weak point would reside. And a weak point there was, the skin came away and the bone cracked, leaving a hole. He had, however, run out of ammo. With a sigh, he jammed his taser into the back of it's brain, set the voltage up to max and let the sparks fly.


After, he returned to the chemists. He had found some alcohol in the bar which would fuel the generator somewhat. The radio was still going with the recorder, his message being replayed over and over if anyone was listening. He stretched, he had most likely pulled a muscle when clearing out the Switchers, and picked up his telescope, peering out through the window with it in search of anyone who was still alive.
 
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Harlow watched the man eat carefully, an obviously tension just beneath the surface as each movement was quick and haughty. It was obvious he had no appreciation for what he was eating. It was for something- for her. So she could eat. Her mouth opened to argue that food was a blessing and to never wolf it down like he was doing, but she quickly closed her mouth, afraid that she would anger the wolf within the man.


Slowly, with aching limbs, sore bones, and pulling flesh, Harlow grabbed the full water bottle, attempting to twist her hand around the cap and turn it, to pull it off, but she found her body was too weak for such a task and so her hand turned and turned but the cap never did, and soon there was an area on her palm rubbed raw by the ridges in the cap of the water bottle. She looked towards the wolf man, embarrassed but too upset to show it much. "I'm sorry," she breathed out, her voice a crackling mess as her words trailed into weak coughs. "I... I can't..." She was going to cry again. Not from fear, but from weakness. She couldn't take care of herself and at this rate she wouldn't be able to for quite a few days. How long would she need someone to pour water into her mouth, to spoon onto her tongue.


She couldn't even look at the man, afraid of what his anger could be. Her brothers spoke of normal men as beasts. Her brothers had the spirits of peaceful animals but normal people? They had the spirits of predators, vicious demons that used every trick in the book, that hunted for joy, for sport, and rarely for food. "Please... Please, I don't mean to weak." Her chest tightened and she was beginning to hyperventilate again, He was going to kill her. She was weak and if you were weak you had to be eliminated. Whenever she was last in drills her father would say she was the one that would end up dead.The weak ones always did. She was crying again- or no, not crying, just sniffling as dry sobs fell out of her mouth. She couldn't cry anymore. She had finally exhausted the last of her internal water supply. She was dangerously low and she certainly needed more than one water bottle. She wasn't going to make it. She didn't think she was. Not as her breathing grew worse from the thought of being killed- and deserving the punishment no less.



Location: Roman's dorm

Status: Dehydrated, malnourished, sunburnt, hyperventilating

Tags: @Soylent
 
FIRST LT. ROMAN WOLFE


Location:Ithaca College Campus, 4 Hr drive to NYC. Mentions:

@McMajestic
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147008987435626
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Roman's concern increased as he noticed the fragility of the woman's arms, the way they could barely withstand the task of unscrewing a cap. He felt as if she was growing weaker with every second, the apocalypse and her past taking a toll on her body, killing it from the inside out. He needed to get some nutrients in her or she'd surely perish, another entity gone from the world.


"Let me," he offered, taking the bottle from her hands and loosening the cap in one swoop. He didn't remove it from the rest of the bottle - he'd give the girl the task of lifting the disconnected cap off herself. Perhaps it'd lighten her spirits.


"You must drink," he urged, taking her small hands in his and cupping them around the circumference of the container, "I can't help you if you don't drink." Roman hated the way her torso trembled with exertion. He hated watching someone break down emotionally and physically, right before his eyes. She needed to get better in case of a switcher attack, or a survivalist raid.


 
Harlow watched him unscrew the top and hand it back to her, and she carefully nudged it off before lifting the bottle to her lips. For a long moment the indentions of the lip of the bottle rested against her chapped lips and she merely breathed in the sweet scent of plastic and water, before she slowly took a drink, letting the water sit in her mouth and allowing her tongue to soak it up. She swished the water weakly, wetting every crevice before letting it trickle down her throat in a languid stream. She coughed from the new experience of cool water against her aching vocal cords, and then repeated the process, taking cautious sips until half the bottle was gone. She then looked up to the wolf, to the man, to the creature that was not quite either, and she rested her hand on his chest. "You are not a man," she whispered, looking him over. "Men are supposed to be vile creatures. I was always told they ruled with hatred, with disproportion." She looked him over, her eyes resting on his face before moving down his torso. That animal heat she had felt before was starting to prod at her again, and she carefully peeled her hand away from his sweaty skin. "Yet you are not quite wolf," she added. He wasn't feral either, though he certainly had been in the beginning.


"So then, what are you? Perhaps it is not for me to know." She then moved back to her water bottle, finishing it off before setting the empty plastic down, screwing the lid on about halfway before laying back on the bed. She hadn't eaten yet but the water was refreshing enough, and she was still quite tired. "You're warm. You hold the warmth of family and yet you seemed so cold when you grabbed me. You're a sweet contradiction, but I'm okay with that so long as you are not a man," she mumbled, resting her head on a pillow and laying on her back. If she was being honest with herself she felt sick. She didn't want to eat, for fear she would only throw it back up.


She let her eyes flutter closed and was careful to leave her arms a bit away from her body so as not to irritate the burns. "Could I sleep? Would that be okay?" she asked weakly, having learned a long time ago women were always to ask permission. If he said no she supposed she could force herself to power through but she was already feeling a drifting tug deep within her. She wanted to sleep, she craved it, but a small part of her also craved the family warmth, that loving pump of blood that touched her very finger tips and offered her protection from the cold. She almost wanted to sleep with the man who was not quite man, to lie with him and be safe, but again she was afraid. And so she merely laid there, hoping he would grant her passage into the dream world.



Location: Roman's Dorm

Status: Malnourished, sunburnt, exhausted

Tags: @Soylent
 
Jamison lowered his bow and slowly backed up he slung the bow back over his chest and bag. He slipped down the ladder and took off heading in the direction of the Macy's door he had left from. He hoped tho guy never showed up at the store. Cause that was his territory. And he will attack anyone on first sight.


As he rounded on of the comers he saw stumbling figure and he took off in another direction. Hoping to reach Macy's. All his years in high school track prepared him for something he just never thought it would be an apocalypse.
 
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