Realistic or Modern Over My Dead Body [Apocalypse]

[burninglog]

Jackson stretched a little and threw himself back into the truck, buckling himself in out of pure habit. He was sure the older people could tlk out traveling plans, it's not like he himself had anywhere to be other than in the monsters' stomachs. He leaned back in his seat and shut his eyes, relaxing himself and trying to think of some sort of goal for his now ruined life. But the only goal he could come up with was live for those who lost the chance to, especially for his little 7 year old sister. Jackson opened his eyes again and did a quick check of their surroundings. He could see a few monsters but they were too far away at the moment to be any sort of threat.


((Kk, cya tomorrow @CrystalGoblets ^-^))


@XxLuluxX @LostInTime

 

[opyim]

Wayne thought he had enough and knew if he didn't get his shit together he'd remain here. He began discarding the boxes, letting them tumble down and crash to the basement floor with loud thuds and a booming resonance. He unlocked the door and almost tore the handle from it's frame as he opened the door, ecstatic. The sun was almost blinding, a deep orange orb that dominant the heavens above and cast down graceful rays of empyrean light. The dust was defined as light pink and orange specs as it passed through the gentle beams of light through the window. Wayne heard sickly groans and ill murmurs as he casually scaled through the window, for the first time laying eyes on the group.


He saw a red haired girl whom seemed trustworthy enough, he may look like a fucking maniac and has an aggressive temperament though inside his core was soft for certain people he knew would grow attached to.


@KaiaWolf


[yh take care @CrystalGoblets stay safe x ]

 

[XxLuluxX]

"Ah, I see. I don't know about the air force base though. Minot is one hellova ride man." Tim replied, removing the tubing and putting a cap on the can, throwing it into the back of the pick up. Then the radio cried out, the fireman half diving into the cab.


"My is not important, what is important is I'm allowing asylum to anyone northbound on the highway as I have a small farm just off the next exit. There may be a gathering of whatever the fuck you call... them. Though I won't be hesitant to let a small party take refuge if they clear the immediate area and knock on the basement door where myself and another are held up. If you're travelling North, you can't miss a sign that states, "JOHNSON FARM" with the general directions. We have ammunition, food and purified water I'm willing to ration. Caution advised there are dead lingering in the treeline off my acre, be careful and safe journey."


"...I think I know where we'll be spending the night till this whole thing calms down. Sound like a plan boys?" He grinned, glancing to Jack and then Ethan before bringing the radio to his lips. "Over. Over. Can you read me? This is Jamestown Fire Department- Timothy Harper. We've received your transmission. I have two others with me. Does the offer still hold?"


@LostInTime @burninglog @Opium

 

[opyim]

Wayne was unbeknownst to the radio, it had trailed from his mind as it transmit the relay of the fireman's broadcast. Instead his gaze was focused on the red haired girl whom seemed timid though knew looks could deceive. He knew she must have an ounce of primal instinct that made her unlike others, able to handle herself in most situations. Wayne was so attentive to her and the SUV he hadn't realized a corpse lumbered dauntingly close and lugged its arms to grasp him, though thankful to his hand eye coordination he rose the Colt 1911 without paying a notion of attention, not a glimpse, as he discharge the firearm sending a cartridge through its frontal lobe. It snarled before choking and stumbling back before falling limp, laying in the dirt.


Wayne tilt his head, mouth half open as he scrutinized the party.


@KaiaWolf

 

[burninglog]

Jackson looked over at Tim and Ethan with a smile. The sixteen year old boy was definitely an awkward and relatively shy person, but he loved meeting new people. He knew full well there was strength in numbers although too many would be... Well, too many. He imagined how many people there might be and why they'd be like. In all honesty, he imagined around five badass twenty year olds with soft hearts although he was sure he'd be hit with an entirely different reality. Jackson was kind of scared to meet the new people, but at the same time he was super excited.


@erybody xD

 

[XxLuluxX]

The line was dead. "Damn it" He clambered in, messing with the dials. "I repeat, this is Tim Harper, Jamestown Fire Department. Are you there? Is anyone out there?" The fireman ran a large palm through his mop of hair, clutching it tightly in his fist. "Is anyone there?" He needed to find his daughter. Which meant he needed to return to the city as soon as possible. He needed to get these survivors to safety, and he needed to do it now. At this rate, he'd get to his daughter by first light. Even now, he flipped through his wallet, gently caressing a dogeared photo.

​

The three people who meant more than the world. He'd failed two. But his daughter, his daughter he'd find. He swore it. He swore it on his wife's early grave. The big man almost let a tear slip. Everything had been so fast, and to stop now, take in what had happened. The reality of it all was crushing.





@burninglog @LostInTime @Opium

 

[Hoax]

Juniper exited the car with the others, switching her knife to her dominant hand and looking around for approaching corpses. Only a few seemed to have noticed the commotion, making their slow way over. But within only a few seconds, the door burst open and revealed a rather wild looking man. Certainly not your usual farming image, in any case.


"Uh… Hey there." She got out once nobody else said anything, trying not to seem nervous. He didn't really scare her, just looked a solid bit aggressive. Plus he seemed to be staring at her, which was a little weird.


Glancing at the SUV trio, she opted for staying silent for now. Jamestown was still her adamant destination, but tagging along with a group didn't seem like a bad idea. Besides, she didn't particularly like her chances of wading through the surrounding dead just to get back to the road…


@Opium @SeaSkies

 

[LostInTime]

"Well, I think Minot is our best bet. It would-" He stopped himself as Tim dived into the truck. Listening to what was being said over the radio, the smile returned to Ethan's face. "Seems we are not the only people left. That offer better still stand." The idea of going up to Minot had left his mind almost instantly. Ethan walked towards the passenger side of the truck, he then opened the back door and pulled himself in. He placed his bag between his feet, and then closed the door. "They are still there, since it is not on repeat. Don't worry." Ethan was sure that the people on the other end of the radio were still alive, they had to be. "We better get moving, we are burning light." He sat back, resting his head against the seat.


(If the truck is only a two-seater, I will edit my post.)


@XxLuluxX @burninglog

 

[opyim]

Wayne strained his vision accordingly as he stared out to the treeline. The minor assembly grew to more of a convention, a horde of undead walkers advanced with an eerie pace, their moans hollow and weary, almost sounding as if in agonizing pain. A glaring sun glimmered across the expansion of land, reflecting golden rays off the wheat and crops as it leisurely sank behind the tree canopies, fluorescent rays of light weakly cast farther before the sun settled and was not seen, the sky was a mass of pink, red and orange clouds. Amidst the tranquil serenity lay a horror of reckoning, a sudden realization that struck Wayne like a fallen tree. He stomach dropped and began to produce a cold sweat though noticed the horde drew nearer.


Wayne pronounced in a deep and erratic voice,


"Fuckers jus' gon' sit there? Get in!" he commanded, harshly waving his gun at his farmhouse. As he paced into a light jog he wasn't hesitant to discharge a few more rounds that rendered four of the undead limp.


His silhouette disappeared as he climbed the stairs, remembering how he'd misplaced his Kalashnikov in the front bedroom. He grasped its handle with a firm grip and waved down at them to,


"Hurry the fuck up!"


He violently yanked back the unjam lever, it made a rich heavy sound that was a pleasure to listen to, always was to him. He focused on the front sight and rest the lower hand guard on the window sill providing secure stability. His finger lightly pressed on the trigger, waiting to engage.


@KaiaWolf

 

[XxLuluxX]

Timothy Harper:


He nodded, wiping at his face to avoid any other confrontation. The front cab of the pickup was three seater, so of course they were in luck. Another six, or eight depending on how pressed for space you'd have to be, could fit in the back. Looking back at Jamestown, he cringed. Then turned to Ethan. "Take the wheel. Get the kid and yourself to the farm. You hear?" He jumped out, gathering a few supplies and all that wouldn't hinder yet he could live off. "I'm finding my girl. Good luck gentlemen. I'll see you at the farm? Who knows. Maybe even the other side." Timothy thumped the door of the truck, saluting mockingly. "Whilst there's daylight left." He nodded, setting off at a job toward the city. Plumes of smoke and panic still emitting from the tall buildings which had once represented a society.


He'd return with Penny. Or not at all. A suicide mission with little left, meant he was the right man for the job. "GOD BE WITH YOU" Timothy yelled, his silhouette becoming smaller.





@burninglog @LostInTime


Penelope Harper:


Penelope was a clever girl. When her babysitter had begun shaking and crying, closing the curtains to knock back pill after pill, grasping an old pistol in her hand, the child had hidden. Instinctively she had waited, before huffing and rubbing her eyes. Dressed in only her pyjamas, as her father had handed her half asleep to the child minder, she began her trek. A little pink rucksack upon her back, filled with biscuits, canned peaches and an atlas. Fooling herself into thinking of it as a horrific game, she clutched rather tightly to her chest a stuffed bear. Childish for an 11 year old, yet it had given her comfort from crying out on more than one occasion. Penny ducked and weaved her way to the only place she knew where to find help. The nursing home. Where her grandfather was. Kept in private care. The nurses had always been so nice, and the doctors all with a smile! They could help. They could call her mother, not to mention father. Infact, it was her father that insisted she only ask help from members of authority or trustworthy positions.

 

[burninglog]

Jackson watched as Tim ran off. He waved at him and silently wished him luck with finding his daughter. He felt a small pang of sadness as Tim left, but ignored it and instead turned to Ethan. "So how many people do you think are at that farm?" He asked a random question to avoid an awkward silence. Jackson hugged his duffel bag and glanced out of the window to see if any monsters were getting close. Two were closer than earlier, but they were still at a safe distance.


@XxLuluxX @LostInTime

 

[opyim]

Wayne's mind ran free, that picture burnt to his mind, the mental image of that day was always there. He could describe what the air felt like, warmly caressing his face as it drift past, the sounds, what the ground was to him when they finally land. He could still feel the crease from smiling when the photographer took his picture, not physically but knew what it was like. He remembered. A brief nostalgia trip enforcing itself with the current situation, he grew nervous, picturing the undead as Vietcong troops. Wayne began to mentally image this scenario picturing objects and people that weren't there. A mild panic grew over him, as if a sudden, chilling wave washed over his face. He tightened his grasp on the Kalashnikov and felt a terrific rage coursing through him.


"MOTHERFUCKERS!" he roared, standing with the rifle pressed against his hip as he began firing unanimously into the bustling crowd. Wayne grit his teeth and his expression contort through emotions of hatred, anger and rage that were fulfilled with every round discharged from the rifle. A salvo of bullets sprayed into the reanimated gathering, he was not accurate though managed to clip a few of them.

 

[opyim]

The shots rang out like alarm bells. They resonate from the trees and disperse amongst the pastures, the sound still travelling for miles. It was a rapid, paced sound as if a whole flock of woodpeckers were pecking on the same tree. The reverberation was so intense it shocked the party and even Wayne himself though could surpress these feelings, focused on killing those "Charlie sonsa' bitches,"


Wayne had deplete the munitions of his clip, his two spare lay on the floor below him and he crouched down sliding the emptied magazine from its holster. He forced the spare one in, a fully loaded full metal jacket. It was lethal. He braced the lever and yanked it back after reloading and began spraying effortlessly again, less sporadic than before though still the heavy, rich booming commenced.

 

[LostInTime]

Ethan climbed into the front seat of the truck as Tim hopped out. "See you at the farm. Godspeed." He said, saluting back. Watching as Timothy ran off, Ethan wondered if he would ever see him again. After making a quick check to see if he was good to go, he put his foot on the gas, not wasting anymore time. He glanced over at Jackson, giving a halfhearted smile. "Does it really matter? As long as there are others at the farm, we will be fine." It would not be too long before they turned off onto the exit. "If no one is there, we will take it."


@XxLuluxX @burninglog

 

[opyim]

The barrage of endless fire presumed, pounding the offense of a shambling horde. Wayne's ears began to ring and everything sounded muffled, his breathing was heavy and delayed as a throbbing sensation took to the side of his head, this did not bother him, he continued to fire with the immensity and loudness of the shots. They could be heard from the freeway, north and south bound. Wayne appreciate his last clip before kneeling down comforting his head in his hands, he grit his teeth and shut his eyes tight hoping his migraine would fade. Once Wayne gathered his senses there was a scatter of groups left, this would be good unless the relentless horde hadn't received reinforcement from the tree line as before. They were migrating.


The shots had certainly rang out piquing curiosity and grasping the attention of survivors. Wayne was now on his last magazine, his Colt had five rounds left in it with a spare clip he kept in his pocket and a few shotgun shells that lay scattered. Wayne took a deep breath before emerging from the window again, now more accurate and organised. He fired single shots at a steady pace.


A short, brief motion of hot brass eject from the Kalashnikov, the used rounds discard and scattered on the wooden floor. At least sixty or more. It was a mess.


Yet he remained determined and focused as the travelling party from the SUV sort themselves out. He continued to provide fire.

 

[GuyWithLaptop]

Few days has passed. Just only about three since this horrid day. Two dead and one standing beside them. His wife and daughter. Both infected by this disastrous spreading virus. This one man standing before them was their father of that grown teenager and a husband of that beautiful woman. Before arriving back home, he was in his business. In a tall flat with workmates, doing to earn for money, and for his own and their proud loving-family. His life was then wrecked until the phone couldn't respond. His wife wasn't answering. All he heard was blood splattering behind his very back of the room. The moment he slowly turned around, his face did not panic, he was greatly shocked. By this terrifying existence that was displaying in front of him. His work mates already has scattered from the room, while he was left with a dead moving person, and an infected that recently has been bitten. Luck wasn't on his side, he'd never knew his workmates are just cruel people who couldn't alarm him in a more trusting manner. They just ran and screamed like little girls in the hallway while he was on the phone and wasn't bothered to look. Though, he thought they weren't being serious. Once he has glanced at the slow moving corpses that was about to head straight to his desk, he grabbed the office chair beside him with ease without being fully terrified by such things. They’re all the same to one of those video games with these monsters in it. But this time, they are all real, moving bodies. The thing is, by being eaten and then become one of them is what frightens him. Still his calmness kept staying inside him. Being brave was to overcome greater terror and it worked really well for his very first career that he have chosen further back in the past. Being a hitman was his sole purpose to overcome those bloody and brutal times. Yet, he have to face this once more, in order to survive. Fear never feared him until the man he has now become.


Johnson, a married man with a single daughter whose about to be turning 18, was in his work desk, doing the paper work. Once facing a new horror in his life, they all came to life. With the office chair in both hands with a tight grip, he tossed it straight to the first target on the front lines drawing out a ton of strength and power. Aimed right to its head, falling backwards, knocking the other behind like domino blocks. The black office chair struck them real hard with full of intensity. Johnson was in his greatest advantage to escape the room as he hurriedly headed straight for the exit. Rushing out off the room, he closed the exit of his working area, with the room key that he borrowed from his boss. Two monsters inside couldn't reach him. The distraction worked perfectly fine according to his expectations. Johnson was safe, truly safe. He now have to go several levels down via the lift, soon experiencing a hellish escaping with enemies awaiting down the very first level of the building.


"How.... Did all of this happen?"


-------


Looking down on the two dead bodies that have been shot real dead through the head. Johnson draws out a cig out of the little box containing all the cigs. Placing the box back in his small right hand pocket, he lit it up with a lighter. Slowly a smoke then came out of the cig and Johnson started smoking. Once letting it out with his index and middle fingers both aligned, Johnson let out a ring of smoke forming once he exhaled. "You two are no longer my wife and my cutie pie... You are one of them... The infected...." he murmured disgracefully. Once he said that, his other hand takes out a black tinted glasses out of his other pocket from his jacket, on the right hand side. Drawing his shades out, he just put it on in front his eyes.


Once more letting out a smoke. Dimples below his mouth was formed. Lifting his lips a little up, Johnson looked rather calm and serious.


"I must kill them all for what they've done to my family..! I will regret it...! You chumps must pay....!"





It was all written in his head, he have become truly a man who will avenge his family. Still it wasn't simple since they are everywhere around the state. Johnson headed in the garage to reach his wife's expensive car where he have made some preparations ready.

 

[Neuton]

Ryan woke up to the firing of bullets. As he looks at the empty basement he blinked. He stood up, as his muscles and bone ached with pain. Ryan grabbed his baseball bat, then hearing another shot. Suddenly, the adrenaline rushed through Ryan's body. He's grip on the baseball bate tightened. He walks out of the basement with the baseball bat up. He heard the shots coming from the front. Ryan knew his bookbag full of stuff was in the backyard. Ryan dashed toward the backyard, to see his book bag laying on the ground. Nothing touched it. As he advanced slowly, he notice that the gun firing was getting "their" attention. He sees figure coming from the woods, slowly advancing. As he watched, it seems that the number keeps growing and growing. The more he stayed watching, the closer they got to his bookbag. Ryan did not know what he packed in their, but he knew he packed the one thing he needed to keep. Ryan made a decision of life and death. Either signal the farmer or run for the bag himself. Like all 16 year old boys, Ryan sprinted toward the bag at top speed. As he advanced, some of the dead seemed to walk faster. As soon as he got to his bag, some shamblers were right in front of him, about to lung. Ryan quickly gripped the baseball bat with two hands and swinged it at the three shamblers. Each hit made contact with the head. They all fell down. Ryan crouched down and grabbed his bookbag and begins to run toward the house. He starts to yell, "We got some in the back! We're surrounded!"

 

[opyim]

The farmer, Wayne, took cautious steps back, observing the pasture of corpses that littered the plain. He swore to himself, shaking his head as he broke into a steady job barging into the back room of the farmhouse, a three by four bathroom, small, though served its purpose. He pushed out the wooden cover and rolled up the screen, he paused, awestruck, dazed. There, in the masses, was an endless horde, multiple enclosed undead shambled through the dense and thick cornfield which fortunately proved a difficult struggle to traverse. The stalks limit their vision and movement pace though Wayne knew for certain it was impossible to takedown each one. The chances of getting injured were too high and was reasonable to not get involved with attempting to halter the hordes' progress. Wayne glanced down noticing the kid whom he allowed refuge, then the incoming scatter.


"Holy sweet baby fuckin' Jesus Christ saint Mary and fuckin' Jospeh," his exaggeration of his profanity hoped to trick himself into feeling better. Wayne slipped the magazine from the Kalashnikov and examined his rounds.


"Twenty two," he claimed, shoving the clip back in and locking it. He yelled downstairs as he neared the banister.


"Gather supplies n' anything of use, I'll bring the fuckin' bags," his tone was assertive despite the situation. Wayne went into the master bedroom and began to plunder his personal belongings, photo albums, pictures, currency, deodorant, an old pen knife, fingerless gloves, a beanie, leather jacket, other clothing garments and his most attached possession, his helmet from the Vietnam war. Surprised how he was allowed to keep it, now it did not matter, he grabbed what he could hastily stuffing those items filling two bags with another spare and the one that contained his weapons in the other room. Wayne hurried downstairs after retrieving all he could placing two full duffelbags, an alicepack with the majority of essentials and a half full backpack. Wayne spoke to the boy,


"What'cha find kid?" he busily occupied himself with rearranging items for comfort in the long run, and ease of space.

 

[burninglog]

Jackson nodded to Ethan response although he was pretty sure people were there. "I dunno but I can here distant gunfire getting closer, I think it's from that farm." He frowned and looked down, realizing in pretty much every zombie movie, the person wasting rounds usually drew a lot of unwanted attention. He looked up and our of the window to see the monsters heading the same way as they were headed- towards the farm. Jackson could tell they were nearing since the gunfire became louder and louder and there were little crowds of monsters heading towards the source.


@LostInTime

 

[opyim]

Wayne had the cigarette from earlier still in his mouth, his lips pursed around it as the ashes dropped and smoldered on the floor. He leant over an open duffelbag resituating his shotgun, then Kalashnikov. Whilst he finished he momentarily disappeared in the basement,returning with a worn rucksack, worn though easy to carry, more like an accessory. Inside were the last of his munitions which consist of two magazines for the AK-47 and single clip for the Colt 1911, it was that small. There was also another garment to him, Wayne now fashioned a tool belt, a farmer's one with pouches and slots to insert handy tools, some holes vacant except for on his side, strapped was a huge machete, a blade construct equal in size of a forearm. It seemed pristine, the steel shiny and polished. Yet that wasn't necesarilly distinguishable as the sun had fully set and the sky grew dark, a pale shade cast across the landscape as the day drew near to an end.

 

[Neuton]

As Ryan yelled, his bag got yanked back by a man in a business suit. Ryan turned around and slammed the metal bat right into its head, it fell limped to the ground as he darts inside the house and closed the door while he locked it. He stood breathless at the farmer yelled to gather supplies. Ryan ran to the basement and started to somehow stuff his bag with more supplies. Ryan then darted out and saw the sun setting.


Their is no way for us to survive with a hoard at night!


Ryan looks at the back door as something on the other side begins to band on it. Ryan shivered in fear as he watches and hears the groan. Ryan grabs the radio from his pocket and clicks the button, "We need h-help at the farm! We are surrounded. P-please hurry as fast as you can!" ,he yelled into the radio. Ryan shoved the radio into his pocket and begins to look for the farmer.


Where is he?!


Ryan becomes scared again thinking of the worst. "Farmer! Where are you?" ,He yelled through the empty house. Ryan stood their frozen as the banging on the door got harder and harder. Ryan gulped as he raised his bat. Getting ready for the worst.

 

[burninglog]

Jackson stared at the radio after hearing some guy's distress signal from the farm. Honestly, he wasn't surprised but that didn't make him feel any better. He wanted to help and he knew his sword would knock out quite a few of the monsters. The boy looked over at Ethan. He had no idea how to use the radio to signal that help was on the way. "We should hurry, it sounds desperate..." He said as he looked back out his window, watching the monsters all make their way in the same direction to the same destination. Jackson just hoped that the people in distress could hold their own until Ethan and he got there.


@LostInTime @Neuton

 

[opyim]

The farmer was situate in the living room, he was calm, Colt hung freely by his side in his right hand, machete sheathed in the belt on his left. A thin trail of smoke cast from the cigarette gracefully rose and wisp into the air, dispersing as it expand. On his head he wore a dark green camoflauged helmet, commonly worn by marines during the 60s. It had signatures signed all around it, some in Vietnamese and others in English supposedly from the Vietnam war. It was obvious by now he was a veteran had pictures in the living room not given it away. Wayne appeared over encumbered with the amount of bags he adorned himself with.


He casually stood there as if nothing was happening, he clearly did not give a shit for the world's sake.


"Whaty' yellin' for," he spoke.

 

[Neuton]

Ryan jumped as the farmer came into view. Ryan opened his mouth, but no words could come out. He pointed at the back door, which was being pound by something on the other side. As he watches and points, sweat begins to drip down his face. Ryan stuttered, "S-surrounded We're surrounded, farmer." Ryan kept his bat raised as he pointed at the door.

 

[opyim]

The farmer sighed, dropping his head as he strolled to the door, kicking it hard and causing more of a commotion than they did.


"Will you shut the FUCK up?!" he emphasised, though the clambering continued till he grew pissed and yanked open the door grabbing one by the shoulder and leaning it forward as he fired into the immediate crowd, two at the front dropped and he slammed the door. The corpse he pulled into the house was wrestling with him whilst Wayne punched it in the jaw.


"Motherfucker!" he growled, "My friend and I are trying to have a decent conversation, and you're being a disrespectful, noisy neighbour!" he argued with it as it tried grabbing him.


"Learn some fuckin' manners!" the farmer yelled at it before shooting it in the side of the head. It slumped over and hit the wooden floor with a loud thud. A crimson mixture stained his clothes and dampened his sleeves.


"For fucks sake, see what you made me do you asshole!" he shout at its lifeless corpse beforing turning to the stunned boy and beckoning him to follow.


"C'mon we're movin' out!"


[Read that in Trevor's voice from GTA 5, trust.]