The Walking Dead

Harli finished digging the hole and went inside the cabin. She walked upstairs and pushed Steven out of the way watching him go down stairs. Harli leaned her head against the door and cried her eyes out. "Bryan? Bryan please let me in." She sobbed. She slid to the ground against the door. "Please."


Steven ran down the steps and outside to Megan. He seen her tears and ran up to her wrapping her in his arms as he looked around for Chance and Jaylee. "Whats wrong Megan?" He looked down at her. "What happened?"
 
(((This is such a good role play so far!)))


Bryan is still frozen its so hot in the bathroom. Bryan's head against the wooden wall. Tons of sweat just pooring down his face to his neck and shirt.Thinking of a flashback. The flashback is Bryan carrying a little girl blonde hair hanging down as well as her both arms. He carrys her. The sun is behind him as he walks down a long country road. So many tears has been dropped from his eyes to his cheeks and to his neck. He gets tired and drops to his knees on the side of the road. Dropping to his knee's on the grass side of the road. Bryan can't help but to stroke the young womans hair. Bryan looks at the young womans right arm it seems it was biten. His tears drops to the grass. He comes back into reality the present. Hears someone's voice outside the door.
 
Kat had been about to leave when she heard gunshots below. The woman's emerald green eyes looked below as she moved to the edge of the roof, scanning for the source. Then she saw him. Some man had run into the alley below. Too bad for him, it was a dead end. She then saw as he quickly began to ascend the fire escape of her building, and smiled slightly. She was glad she had left the ladder down, just in case something like this happened. The walkers were too dumb to club the ladder without knowing she was up there, and they didn't.


Kat lifted the carbine she held and took aim. She shot the three walkers that were closest to the ladder, attempting to climb up after the guy. Each burst of the semi-automatic rifle pretty much popped the heads of the walkers. Kat then lowered her rifle, and gestured down to the man that he should hurry and climb. She kept her rifle at the ready, just in case the walkers kept after him. She didn't plan to just watch this civilian die like she had many others. Not if she could help him. Hopefully, he wasn't already bitten.
 
Harli begin to speak quickly. as if she was pouring her whole life out to Bryan. "My baby died. I was knocked up by a ass hole and I watched my little boy grow up untill he was 4. His name was Foster. When he was four he was killed by his father. He gave my little man pills. I watched him die." She sobbed as she watched the door. "I know how you feel to have some one you love die right infront of your eyes...... Open the door Bryan. Please..."


"Oh shit" Steven bit his lip and looked around seeing the little boys wrapped body. He let go of megan and went over to the boy. He lowered his body in the grave and sat on the ground holding his head.
 
Bryan trys to stand up. But stumbles he use's the sink to pull himself up. He slowly looks in the mirror. And can't find it in himself to look more. He looks down at see's a towel but ignores it. Its so hot in there he starts to lose his breath and then. It happens he falls down, passing out. he falls on the wooden floor. The sound of the fall is loud.
 
Harli heard the loud thump and jumped up. She banged on the door. "Bryan!" She called out. She looks around and recalls Steven climbing through a window. She ran down the hall and searches the rooms. She finds one with a open window and climbs through. She then ran around the roof finding the bathroom window. She tried to open it but it wouldn't. She growled and took off her over shirt leaving her in a wife beater. She wraps it around her hand and she slams her hand against the window. She climbs through slicing her hand open. "SON OF A BIT.CH!" She Got into the bathroom and crawled over to Bryan. She tapped his face lightly. "Come on wake up. Get up." She spoke to him. she looked through the cabnit's and got a towel. She wet it and dabbed his face. "Wake up DAMMIT!"
 
Jackson jerked at the sound of gunfire, snarling before his gaze went flat, his eyebrows knitting together, gunshot=human, human=someone else to talk to besides Remy. His gaze brightened and he leaned over the edge, his sunglasses were off and his eyes looked like a blue diamond, light enough to be considered grey. He rose his eyebrow at the male, extending a hand as to help him. Remy paced around anxiously before sitting down and digging around in her backpack for food of some sort, she took a bite of a granola bar before stuffing it back in, she couldn't use all of their food supply, they had to use it strictly if needed. She zipped back up her backpack and stared up at the blue sky, possibly the only thing that never seemed to change, in a way she found it comforting, everyday the sun would rise, and every night the sun would set. It was something that was continuous, that she didn't have to debate over happening. She closed her eyes and sunk into the fabric of her backpack, soon exhaustion took over and she found herself sinking into an afternoon nap.
 
Declan froze when he heard three loud gunshots. He watched as the three walkers closest to the ladder had their heads blown off. He looked up and spotted a bright red flame. He started climbing up at a quicker pace. He had to pause to adjust the army rucksack over his back. Continuing on his way until he reached the top, he hauled himself over onto the roof of the building.


He must have been quite the sight. Bright blue eyes on a face plastered with blood, some fresh, some old, hair that had not been tended to since everything hit the fan, ripped and torn hunter green t-shirt. Plus the bloodied bandage that decorated his right upper arm.


He stood and picked up his bag from the floor, along with the machete that had been tied to one of the rucksack's straps. Dusting himself off, he turned his gaze to the woman who had shot down the walkers. On instinct, he pulled out the gun and pointed it at her, his grateful stare becoming a glare. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice gruff and unwelcoming. 
(Eh? Ah shi- I'll edit right now. llD Are Jackson and Remy with Kat?)
 
"I'm going for a walk." Megan said as to Steven before walking into the wooded area alone. she had her roller skates tied around her shoulders in case she wanted to skate around on the roads. she needed something to distract herself from all the trauma and stress going on. everything was going fine until things went to hell. She had her trusty crow bar in hand and took out stray walkers before they got to her.
 
(Sorry, I didn't mean to. Thought he was going to my character. Um...You can come where they are too. Maybe they were attracted by the gunshots? I dunno. Sorry. DX)


Kat looked at this stranger oddly, not moving as he aimed his gun at her. She did frown though, and slowly let her rifle go, it hanging on the strap that went around her shoulders. She slowly moved and grabbed a piece of paper and pen out of the pocket of her Air Force uniform's pants. She kept her movements slow, as not to alarm the man, and wrote something on the notebook. Then she held it out to him.


In her simple and easily legible handwriting, it read;


First Lieutenant Kathleen Nightingale.


I'm not bitten. Are you?
 
(It's fine. xD We have another plan to have them meet up anyhow.)


Declan's eyes followed the woman's - no, Lieutenant Kathleen's - movements. He kept the gun pointed at her, knowing perfectly well that there were no more rounds in it.


But she doesn't know that.


He read the paper, then looked back at Kathleen. He opened his mouth, then closed it again. He set his face in a scowl and tightened his grip on the .54 Pistol. He wasn't going to give off his information, even if people had no use with it nowadays. He had learned to trust no one during the first few days of the apocalypse. Trust only yourself, he often said to himself.


Deciding to at least say something, he opened his mouth again. "I'm not bitten." he said, his face still set in the unfriendly expression.
 
(Okay, good. I felt bad. DX)


A small smile crossed the lieutenant's face, and she brought the notebook back over to her. She wrote on it again, and held it out to him.


Good. No would you mind lowering the gun?


She let him read it, then pulled it back to add something. When she showed it to him again, there was another bit below the previous words.


If I wanted you dead, I could have shot you like I did those walkers.
 
Jackson frowned, he swore he had heard gunshots. He shook his head and sighed at Remy's sleeping body. He walked over and draped a blanket over her before sliding out his sleeping bag, he rested it against the wall, tugging on the chains holding the doors closed, locking them up tighter and sliding into his sleeping bag, it had begun to grow cold, and he always enjoyed a good snuggle. He gazed up at the sky, like Remy he enjoyed watching it, although with his light eyes it was hard to stare at it for too long without sneezing or squinting.
 
Declan read the notebook, growing curious. However, he did not lower the gun. "Why don't you talk?" he demanded in a low growl. His behavior was very uncharacteristic of him. Usually, he'd be happy to meet someone new. To meet someone living. But he had gradually begun to grow more and more sheltered as the days went by. He no longer went out on hunts to find fellow survivors. He had lost hope in humanity when he had been betrayed by a few close friends. After that, he vowed to never let himself trust anyone else.


His icy blue gaze remained on the woman. Clenching his jaw, he reluctantly lowered the gun and slipped it back into his belt.
 
Jackson brushed the hair away from Remy's face, his eyebrows knitting together, she was like a sister to him. He sighed and slid into his sleeping bag, gazing at the ground. He pulled out something that he'd have since he was a child, a battery powered video player, he smiled faintly, at least he could watch a movie. He slid a disk into the player, watching a fuzzy picture pop up on the screen before it focused out, he relaxed back against the sleeping bag, watching the movie with a weak smile.
 
Kat relaxed a bit when he lowered the gun, holstering it. She then wrote on the notebook again, and showed him after a moment.


Thank you. And I don't talk because I can't. Childhood accident.


As he read the note, she reached up and pulled the high collar of her uniform shirt down a bit. A large, old scar was visible on her throat, like a long gash. She let him see, then fixed her collar again.
 
Declan stared at Kathleen for a moment before adjusting the rucksack's straps over his shoulders. "I better get going," he began. "I've got a family to get back to."


In truth, he had no family. He had no one. Not for a long time. He had been alone ever since his father got taken by the walkers. It had happened when Declan was sleeping. His father, Calvin, had been walking around the perimeter of their old ranch house when he got attacked. Declan didn't k ow it had happen until the next morning, long after Calvin had turned.


Now, Declan turned away from Kathleen and began walking to the other side of the roof, the machete gripped firmly in his left hand.
 
The glow of a screen entered the night sky, as well as the small voices of the characters. Jackson watched the screen silently, but his mind was on other things, the walkers, how freaking cold it was and Remy. He gazed at his sister-like figure with a sigh. He turned off his battery powered screen, sliding it back into his backpack.
 
Kat frowned, watching the man start to walk away. She hurriedly scribbled something on the note, and caught up to him, raising the note for him to see.


Be careful. Walkers in buildings and on streets. Stick to rooftops.


Her expression seemed genuinely concerned, and below the first line was another question.


Need anything?


She was under the impression he had a family now. As such, she was worried for those whom he supposedly had waiting for him.
 
Declan read the first part of the writing. He became secretly thankful. Then he read the second part. He clenched his jaw again and left without saying anything. He gripped the machete until his knuckles paled. Reaching the edge of the roof, he looked down into the street. He couldn't see much, bur sure enough there were walkers, hundreds of them, reaming the street.


Turning to the roof of the next building over, he began thinking of a way he could get over without going down to the ground.


You could always jump.


Declan stared at the edge of the other roof before sliding his bag off of his back. He slid the machete into its cover and put it away in the rucksack. With one strong throw, the bag landed on the other roof. My turn. He stepped back twenty feet. With another deep breath, he broke into a run, one faster than before. He stepped onto the edge of the building and leaped, reaching out with his hands.
 
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