Virus

[Nebula]

View attachment 10342​


Virus


owner: nebula co-owner: liztopher


To read information about the storyline or other things, please


revert back to the information thread here. To join the roleplay,


please fill a character form out here.

​

RULES-





This is a zombie survival, wasteland type of role play.


Please follow all the rules listed below to be able to join this role play.


Do not fight with anyone, everyone is the same; no one is better.


Do not godmod or "auto-dodge" things, you're character isn't God.


Do not kill other characters unless you have the owner's permission.


You may play zombies or humans, it's up to you.




​

 

[Charlene]

Leaning forward and pressing his dirt covered hands lazily across the glass case in front of him, Lane's hazel pools glistened brightly when eyeing the mass array of weapons before him. All the way from submachine to the lousy pistols he didn't bother to pay attention to, he rose his decently large foot to a good distance before swinging it forward. With a loud crash, the glass shattered and pieces scattered beneath his feet, dirtying the floor more than it already was. "Well, would'ja lookie 'ere," he mumbled to himself, his thick southern accent dancing in his words as he spoke. Lane reached in and pulled out a shotgun, immediately giving it look-over with keen fascination. "A Winchester 1200, what a beaut! I remember Pa had one just like it."


Talking to himself was the only thing that kept the hick sane. Loneliness was the worst thing in the world, and Lane had a large case of it. Ever since leaving his parent's home and his shop behind due to this disaster, he didn't have the opportunity to communicate to no one other than himself. Lane was a bubbly guy, and when nothing fueled his fire, what else was there to do? Setting his axe down and turning his back from the door, he brought the weapon close to his mouth and breathed on it casually. When fogged up just enough, he used his already bloodied plaid shirt to wipe it off and reveal a clean reflection of the redneck. "Heh, never knew I would find one just like it."


"Pa would be so proud a' me." Lane solemnly said, raising his hand to his head and giving it a light scratch. Ever since losing his parents, something about him wasn't the same. He was still there, the beer-loving, knee-slapping redneck he grew up to be, but on the inside the sadness ate at his hope slowly like a parasite. The family he could only think of was in California, and that was a ways away from where he was now. Lane would never think of suicide as the answer, but if nothing changed, he didn't want to think.


Checking the gun to see if it had ammo in it, his face twisted to a scowl when figuring out it had not. "Dagnabbit," he hissed, carefully climbing over the counter the dig through the cupboards for any left over ammunition. But figured there was very little, all ransacked when the time had come. "Just mah luck, huh?"


The sound of gravel crunching rang in the ears of the hick, and he immediately stood up, turning his attention to the front door. Clutching the empty weapon dear to him, he snatched the axe from the counter and slowly started sauntering around to the entrance. Excitement began to build inside of him, another zombie he could batter the hell out of. This was all a sport to Lane it seemed, not killing or slaughtering of the dead, but a game. Might as well enjoy the things in life, right?


-


Sinking an arrow in the back of her friend was the last thing Ophelia wanted to resort to. It had been days, possibly weeks (she couldn't remember) since this thing had hit, and her best mate named Kevin was the only one that stuck by her side. Now, he was dead. She didn't know if that constituted as bad karma or not, but something had to happen. Ophelia would rather not be used as a walking Happy Meal, so what had been done, had been done. Wiping the beads of sweat off her forehead she gripped her bow and exited the diner, turning her head back and fourth at the few shops nearby. "This place is already dead.." she whispered, furrowing her brow in frustration.





CRASH!





Ophelia turned her head quickly at the direction of the noise, jumping slightly. There were more? Tilting her head, she started walking, holding that bow tighter than one could ever imagine in her skinny, slick palms. Whatever it was, dead or alive, it was gonna have to go through her first. Holding her breath as she inched closer ever so slightly, doing whatever it took not to make the slightest noise before raising to steady her bow. The young woman slithered her thin body to the door and took a moment to stop, thoughts running through her racing mind. In those few seconds, she calmly counted to three and dove into the doorway, close to striking whatever it was in the head. Seconds before she let the arrow go, she stopped just in time before sinking the feathered arrow in the head of a man. He was tall with a decent build, sporting short messy brown hair and a plaid shirt. It was another survivor.

 

[Autumn]

Beccalyn had been wandering for days trying to find somewhere safe to stay. She could feel the heaviness of exhaustion in her limbs as she walked down a seemingly deserted street. She knew she was never alone. Perhaps the living were gone, but the dead were always hanging around. It had been a while since she had seen any living people. Thankfully, she hadn't encountered many of the dead either and those she did encounter she was able to sneak around. Becca shuddered at the thought of having to kill anything or anyone. She believed that the dead still had pieces of them old selves locked in their brain. Perhaps they could be helped.


Becca froze, her hazel eyes widening with fear as a small groan sounded from a nearby alley. She surveyed the street: all the door looked boarded up and it didn't seem there was anywhere for her to go. She pressed herself against the dirty wall of a nearby building, hoping to go unnoticed. She pulled her brown leather bomber jacket tightly around her, covering her white t-shirt in the hopes she would be able to blend in a bit more. She looked down at her feet: her brown boots had taken a beating the last few days. A pair of dark blue skinny jeans were tucked into the top of those boots. She had tied to dress as smartly as possible, not that she had much time to gather her things.


Looking back up, Becca saw someone stumble into the street. Just a regular zombie. She carefully slid her beige backpack off of her slender shoulder, setting it lightly on the ground. She stooped down, reaching into it and grabbing her knife. It was a joke of a weapon but Becca wasn't interested in killing anyway. Her thoughts drifted back to her sister. She knew that Abigail would do anything to ensure her own survival. Her sister had always been that way: self-interested and never thinking about consequences. Becca felt tears prick at her eyes as she wondered where her sister was or if she even survived.


Becca shook her head, clearing her thoughts. She turned her attention back to the zombie as a slightly breeze ruffled her wavy brown hair. She suddenly stood up straight, shouldering her bag once more and taking off running, just as the zombie caught her scent on the wind. It looked at her as she ran by, a blank look in its eyes, as it began to follow after her. Her feet hit the concrete lightly as she bounded away, her knife still clutched tightly in her palm. She made it to the end of the street she had been on and rounded the corner, stopping dead in her tracks. She saw a woman, but she was unsure as the whether she was dead or not. The woman suddenly dove into the doorway and Becca tilted her head to the side, momentarily forgetting about the zombie pursuing her. Another survivor. It had been so long since she had seen one. Relief flooded through her for a moment before she heard a familiar groaning close behind.


Becca turned suddenly, a small scream escaping her lips as she stumbled backwards, tripping over er feet and falling to the ground in the middle of the street. "No, no, no, no," she whispered, scrambling backwards as fast as she could. She didn't want to die. She couldn't die, not now. She didn't even know what had happened to her family. She held her knife, ready to strike, or at least attempt to. She had never used it before and she was afraid she wouldn't be able to. She looked at the woman moving towards her with glazed eyes. She could have been a mother or a sister. She was someone's daughter. She had dreams and aspirations and she wanted to do something with her life. She might have been married and lived in one of the houses nearby. Maybe she made her kids lunch each day before they rushed out the door to get on the school bus. She always made sure she gave them a kiss on the forehead before the left, though.


As Becca made this imaginary life up for this woman, she felt her willpower drain. She couldn't end her life.


--


Walter walked confidently through the middle of the street, swinging his bloodied baseball bat lazily by his side. He surveyed the road: there were a few of those damn zombies nearby. With a bright grin as if he was playing a game, Walt dashed over to them, kicking one square in the chest to knock it back while he swung his baseball bat as hard as he could. The zombie fell to the ground, lifeless, like it was supposed to be. Turning to the other zombie that was rushing towards him, he took another swing, effectively taking care of that problem. "Well, that's a good job, Walt, if I do say so myself," he muttered happily, looking down to examine his clothes. His black tennis shoes looked fine but there were spots of blood all over his blue jeans and grey t-shirt. "Great," he muttered, rolling his eyes. Too bad he didn't have the option to choose from all the clothes hanging in his walk-in closet at home. Damn, he missed being at home. Life was a lot better when you had money..


Walt began to make his way down the road. He heard a scream and paused, confused. Was it a zombie or a girl? He made his way over to the street he had heard it from. There was a woman, definitely a zombie, stumbling after this brown haired girl who was on the ground for some reason. He was behind the girl so she couldn't see him. He leaned leisurely against the wall, watching the show. He felt no need to help this girl. After the zombie had taken care of the... problem, he could rush in and get her things before she turned into one of them. Foolproof.


He crossed his arms, staring interestedly at the events unfolding before him. Walt wasn't inhumane or a bad person. He didn't see himself that way anyway. Walt just felt that it was survival of the fittest. Plus, he wasn't going to rick his neck for someone he didn't know.

 

[MsTeaTime]

Civilization.. Where is civilization? East?


Simon rotated his trail map right, left and right again, trying to make sense of his direction. It had been four days since he last raided a town and not only was he growing tired of the woods, but his food supply was pretty low as well. Not deadly low, but enough to make him anxious for tomorrow. He folded his map and threw his chin back to peer up at the sky. Resting his arm on his forehead as he squinted through the rays of light that struck his skin in pillars through the trees, he observed the placement of the sun. It was still high in the sky which meant it was probably around noon. That’s good, it meant he had at least 5-6 hours of good daylight to take care of business. He knew he was close, actually he should be there already, but he didn’t want to risk over shooting his destination by proceeding without reassurance from his map.


It’s so hot..


He could feel the heat muddled around him. He was sweaty, pretty dirty, and his hair was a little longer than he would have preferred—infact he was already getting stubbles on his chin and he’d only thrown out his razor a couple of days ago. He was starting to think that was a bad idea. Standing still wasn’t going to do him any good though so he started trudging along again, his water jug shaking 3/4ths empty as if a reminder of the urgency of this detour.


Detour… as if I’m even headed anywhere.


A small scream a short ways off had reached Simon’s ears.


Huh, a scream.


It took him a moment to process.


“A scream!” He said aloud. In a confused excitement he started sprinting in the direction he heard it from.


That means I’m close to the town. But if it was a scream, then it must have been another survivor! But since she screamed that means there’s trouble?


He hesitated to keep his pace as thoughts raced through his head.


I haven’t seen another survivor in so long. But if she’s in trouble than there’s no way I’ll be able to reach her from this far or do anything about. I guess I should stay positive, I mean I’m headed in that direction already and if I happen to come across her than I’m in luck.


He clutched his crossbow tight and his make-shift tarp bag even tighter over his shoulder. He wouldn’t have as much time as he thought to raid the town if any zombies in the area had heard the same scream he had. The roofs of the town’s buildings peeped over the hillside now as Simon sprinted in their direction.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


“You have got to be kidding me.” Amelia mumbled to herself as she watched a group of small survivors forming through her scope at her newfound sniping point. There was a girl crawling backwards, a zombie on the move, a midget in the doorway, and a peeping tom around the corner of the building. Are they going to do anything? Amelia was growing agitated at the scene unfolding before her. It looked like that one guy didn’t want to be seen, couldn’t blame him- she’d probably do the same. But that one girl groping the cement was really started give her a headache. She was the first one that Amelia spotted in her scope, running through the town like a fresh sack of meat on display, dead things not far behind.


Maybe the midget will do something..


The girl screamed and Amelia sucked her teeth, finger heavy on the trigger of her rifle as she kept her aim on the zombie’s skull. If she killed this zombie, that would be one more mouth raiding the food supply, three beating hearts that would know of her existence, one less bullet, and a sound much louder than a scream. Her best bet would be to get in and out of the grocery before the others did and before more dead bodies horded their way. She didn’t budge from her spot though; sprawled out on her belly, elbows digging in the ground and eye straining in anticipation through the glass of her scope. There was an urge itching her and it was starting to weigh heavy on her mind.


Dead things should stay dead...they should stay dead.


So Amelia shot before the snarled lunge, splattering rotted brains all over the bricks of the little diner. It wasn't like her to choose a dead thing over a live one. “That gives me ten minutes.” She said to no one in particular, kicking up dirt as she took off with her gun and possessions in the direction of the grocery, two streets behind the beatings hearts. Her ears were ringing at the loud "pop" sound her gun made after firing- she would probably suffer permanent ear drum damage if she didn't find ear plugs soon. The most disturbing sound was probably heard by the survivors though, a loud thump as the bullet made contact, combined with a cracking skull and spray of blood. The red stained bullet was now lodged in the wall, half the size it was initially.

 

[Charlene]

Only a second behind the other, Lane snaked himself along the cold wall near the entrance, his grip ever so tight on his axe that soon his knuckles began to bear white. It was kill or be killed, and in any moment Lane was going to strike whatever that drew near. Biting down on his bottom lip, he dropped the shotgun he had acquired and raised the axe above his head, leaping forward into the doorway with agile speed. “You’re goin’ down you mangy-“


Screeching loudly, the red weapon fell from his sweaty palms and toppled to the ground, clanging loudly while he swiftly ducked, protecting himself from the arrow that was about to sink into his (not so bright) brains. “Ahm sorry ma’am, don’ hurt me!” he shouted, eyes squeezed shut, “I beg you, spare me! Ahm jus’ like you!”





Ophelia looked down at the man practically rolled in a ball in front of her, screeching to spare his life that she was just about to take on accident. Letting out a deep breath, she lowered her bow and ran a hand across the back of her neck. “Get off the ground.” she whispered after a stretch of silence, reaching behind her to slide the arrow back into her quiver. Darting those blue pools around the room she spotted the shattered glass, making her exhale smoothly with relief. “Why would you break glass like that, you know those things are attracted to noise.”


Ophelia turned her back, squinting at the sunlight that seeped its way through the pepper of clouds. She was about to just walk away, thinking it was not the brightest idea to drag along a complete idiot that would only cause more trouble than the apocalypse itself. She had enough trouble on her mind already.





Shivering ever so slightly with fear, Lane peeked from a space between his fingers shielding his rugged face and cocked an eyebrow. This woman was small, thin and wore a button-up blouse that was open at the top, revealing a feminine build behind it. She looked empty, and worn - like she was tired of the world around her, fighting a constant emotional battle within her even before all this had happened. But, that didn’t stop Lane, despite the differences at first glance; he had just found another survivor. At the moment, it was like his loneliness was cured that instant.


“Oh thank ya’ ma’am, thank ya, you are a saint!” he exclaimed in a relieved tone, grinning like child. “Ahm so glad ya didn’t sink that arrow into mah cranium, man, I would've been a goner!” Laughing nonchalantly, he stood up and regained calm composure, picking up his axe and shotgun he had dropped earlier. “Mind telling me who ya are?”





Ophelia stepped outside the doorway and opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by the screams of something, or someone nearby. Was it a zombie, or a survivor in need? “Sh-t.” she whispered, glancing back at Lane who glanced around in utter confusion. “No time for names.” she mumbled, and immediately started towards the noise, tiny feet barely touching the ground. “Wait, lady, ahm comin’ wit ya!” Lane shouted after her, almost forgetting he was being loud once more. He tucked his shotgun under his arm and wobbled after her in a uncoordinated motion, gripping that lucky red axe of his as always. “I ain’ leavin’ you alone out ‘ere!”


Ophelia arrived at the scene as quickly as she could, somewhat relieved to see that it was another survivor and not one of those special infected she ran into a couple of times before. “I can handle this on my own!” she shouted back to the redneck, sliding an arrow into her bow and raising it, aligning her target as carefully as she could. “Die you son of a-”





The boom of a nearby weapon filled the air while the bullet that shot whizzed past the thin female, initially hitting the zombie square in it’s cranium, making a sickening crack and pop while brains splattered everywhere. Ophelia stood there in shock, frozen in time as the bits of flesh and blood decorated her once semi-clean frame.

 

[Luka]

Luka jumped down from the tree she was in and took off down the street for the dirt bike she'd been eyeing for the last two days. She jumped on it and pulled a bobby pin and a small rod out of her pocket. She manages to get it running and takes off down the street that was now scattered with walking dead. She sped up down the street and sharply turned a corner. She skidded to a stop, almost hitting one of the dead. She swings up her AK and unloads a few bullets in its head. It fell to the ground and Luka laughed. She revved the dirt bike up and took off again. "What are you doing Luka" One of the voices rang in her head. "Oh shut up!" She growled at it in her russian accent. She grinned as she sped up and skidded past one of the dead. "Luka! Slow down!" it shouted at her. She ignored it and pushed it away. She heard gun shots, screams and shouting. She snapped her head to the nearby area. and quickly turned and made her way toward the gun shots.


(Sorry about how short mine is.... I don't RP like you guys do.... If it messes with you guys ill kill Luka off and leave the RP)

 

[Autumn]

Becca squeezed her eyes shut, realizing this was probably it for her. "I'm sorry, Abbi," she whispered, opening her eyes and looking at the approaching zombie. She heard a gunshot and saw the gruesome image of the zombie's head. Blood and fragments of something she didn't want to think about hit the asphalt. "Oh, God," Becca whimpered, nausea threatening to empty her stomach. She scrambled to her feet, getting as far away from the dead woman as possible. She felt tears sting her eyes as she thought about the death of the woman. How could someone do that? "Stop it, Becca," she muttered to herself, angry at her reaction. She didn't know that woman and whoever had killed her saved her life.


Becca looked around for the first time since she had scrambled away from the woman. She finally saw the slender woman with the bow and she was relieved. This was the woman she had seen in the street before she had rushed into the shop. Becca gave her a weak smile, her eyes shifting to the man standing near her. She hadn't seen him before. He's cute, the voice in her head piped up. She mentally chastised herself. There was no time for that now. The whole world was falling apart around them and Becca was admiring attractive men.


Becca sank to the floor, her head in her hands. She had to get her stomach under control. Her brown, wavy hair hid her face as she sat. She knew she would have to get used to these kind of actions in this new world. People would call Becca delicate. She didn't like blood, violence, or death. This kind of thing never happened in her life. Becca worked hard for all she had, always following the rules and living a quiet life with her twin sister. Becca wasn't a stupid girl: she understood what it would take to survive in this world and she understood she didn't have the stomach for it. Now, though, there were people that maybe she could convince to stay with her. She could be helpful, perhaps not with the fighting, but with everything else. She stood slowly, grabbing her backpack and walking over to the woman and man standing near the doorway. Running a hand nervously through her hair, she looked at her feet before glancing at the woman, her hazel eyes assessing her. She looked agile and well-suited for this world. She would be helpful, especially judging by her bow. It made Becca's knife look like a joke.


"Um, h-hello," she said, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice. Everything was riding on this: she was certain that she wouldn't be able to survive, especially if this event was any indicator. "My name is Beccalyn Grey," she continued, her voice soft. She had never been a loud person and that proved quite helpful now. She rocked back and forth on the heels of her boots, one of her many nervous habits. She bit her lip, looking between the two of them. "Um, do you.... do you think we could, I don't know, travel together? Safety in numbers and all," she asked, realizing she would seem like a danger based on one had just happened.


--


Walt frowned as the body of the zombie fell. He watched the girl scramble backwards and sit for a moment before approaching the others. While the brown haired girl seemed to be interested in the two people that appeared in the street, Walt was more interested in where that shot had come from. He had seen the whole event unfold before him and neither the woman or man had fired a gun. He looked over his shoulder in time to see a small figure running into a building. A sly smile broke out on his face. "Ah, this will be fun," he chuckled, sprinting down the deserted street. This must have been the person that fired that gun. Why, though, he wondered? Walt didn't feel any need to help these people. What had they done for him?


He felt the sting in his lungs as he approached where he thought he saw the figure dash into. He slowed, breathing heavily, trying to keep his steps light but failing miserably. Ever since thi virus had broken out, Walt had changed. He was angry that his parents had abandoned him in this world, seemingly without a second thought. He didn't have any sympathy or empathy for people anymore. He had suffered quite a bit, more than others, he believed. He figured that, if he had made it, the others would, too. If they didn't, well, that was nature doing what she does.


He pressed his body against the wall, waiting to hear any sounds inside the grocery store. He thought he heard something and burst into the store, holding his bat, ready to swing. "Hello?" he called out, not seeing anyone at first.

 

[MsTeaTime]

Oh sh*t..


Simon stopped in his tracks at the boom that echoed throughout the town scaring birds from the treetops nearby.


This is bad, like that time. It won’t be long now... But maybe whoever screamed earlier is still alive now. I have to find her and get out of here.


…


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Amelia stepped into the grocery, it was unlocked which meant it had probably already been swept clean. She was making her way to the counter in hopes of a discovery when she heard the sound of shoes slapping the cement not far behind her. There was only one pair; it had to be the peeping tom. She darted out a side door just before the main entrance swung open.


“Hello?”


She heard his muffled question from outside.


Wasting time…


She thought as she crept around the building, not unlike a cat. When she rounded back to the main entrance she could see his back and the bat he gripped rather showily. He probably meant to steal her gun. She slid into the entrance, gun barrel first, aiming it at the back of his head.


“Don’t think I don’t know a thief when I see one” She growled lowly as she pressed the cold metal tip of her gun against the back of his head.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Simon came out on the edge of the town, creeping along as fast as possible with his bow aimed and ready. He prayed to himself that most of the zombies were far off. As he made his way into the street, he noticed a lot of things happen at once. He could hear a bike revving in the distance, the sound of a machine gun, a guy going into a grocery store with a bat, and a girl creeping around the corner with a sniper gun- and then back into the entrance.


That must have been the gun shot from earlier…Was she the one who’d screamed?


He speculated as he noticed that she had the gun aimed when she entered the store. This town was bumping, how have these people survived so long? He wondered while he crept up to the window to get an idea of what was going on.


“-know a thief when I see one”


He heard the tail end of a comment made by the girl.


A thief?


He had no idea what was going on but it had been so long since he’d been around any other survivors that he didn’t care. But she wasn’t going to kill him was she? She sounded pretty serious.


All thoughts drained from Simon’s mind though when he noticed a cluster of movement on the west tree line. Chills ran down his spine as he counted close to seven zombies sprinting from the woods, one in particular stuck out. It was a sickly looking woman flailing at the front line of the small horde. Something else was off about her though, it was her hands- though they weren’t hands, more like…talons. She was about a half a mile away and seemed to have her eyes set on something or someone that Simon couldn’t see. As he noticed this, a shriek erupted from the creature, piercing Simon’s ears and causing him to get a little dizzy, even from the distance she was at.

 

[Charlene]

Large brown boots hit the cracked cement in long steps, scurrying behind the female that appeared to look like an infected herself, decorated with blood and fragments of bone and brain. Lane, about to reach out to place a hand on her shoulder, retracted it, scrunching his nose in disgust. "Oh lord.." he wailed in a monotone voice, turning his body away to inhale a few heavy breaths of air. "Ahm' sorry but you're gon' hafta get cleaned up, that's just-" he gagged slightly, slapping a dirtied hand onto his knee to stop his short spasms. Inhaling once more, he straightened himself out and ambled over, sniffling. "Nasty."


Ophelia's eyebrows twitched at Lane's comment to her, sinking her top pearly whites into her lush lip as gargled moans echoed from her throat. "Your comments don't help.." she muttered, making a slight attempt to move. While doing so, a chunk of congealed brain slide down the collar of her blouse and plopped onto the ground, joining the rest of the pieces down there too. She held her breath, slamming eyelids shut for a moment to prevent the vomit tickling at the back of her throat, from coming up. This, for the most part was the first time guts had actually came into contact with her.


Lane kept his hazel eyes from the woman, stomach queasy for once from such an atrocious image and turned his attention to the other woman, who appeared to be a bit troubled herself. "Ya' a'right, ma'am?" he questioned, moving his body closer. Once her voice piped up a hello and introduction of herself, his face brightened up a tad. "That's a purdy name you got thar' Becca." he complimented, nodding his head before continuing. "The name's Lane, Lane Twiss and this is-" he jabbed a thumb in the direction of Ophelia, who actually showed signs of life as she examined herself some more, and paused, remembering that she didn't tell him her name. "Uh.."


"Ophelia." The woman piped up, lifting her head and giving a forced smile to the woman she was about to save moments ago. "Nice to meet you, both."


"Oh, yeah!" Lane grinned like a giddy child. "Ophelia!"


Ophelia glanced at him, her smile faltering a tad when seeing his, bright and vivid grin, even when the dead were walking towards them not too far away. How can a idiot be so damn happy when any minute they could have their faces eaten at once? Her angered thoughts diminished when Becca spoke about her tagging along, using the whole "greater in numbers" excuse. Ophelia, obviously, opposed.


"I thank' it's a damn good idea!" Lane half-laughed, cutting her thoughts in half and nearly, throwing them into the trash. "I thank' you-"


His sentence was cut short due to the ear-piercing scream filling the air, echoing from a distance that sounded near the edge of town, and didn't sound pleasant at all.


"Sh-t."

 

[Luka]

Luka zoomed past a group of dead. The one leading the group had long talon like fingers and her screech drowned out the voices in Luka's head. She shouts right back at it as it screeched "God! Shut up!" she groaned and seen the woman at the grocery. She watched as the woman, talon, dead thing started its way toward her. Luka groaned and revved her engine. She whistled to the pack of dead. "Might as well make a rape train. Right?" The voice in her head shouted at her Luka you are an idiot! You shoulda just let the thing get that girl!





Luka shook her head and spun her tires. If anyone where to see this they would think she was crazy. Not considering the fact she is mentally insane. The back tire on her dirt bike spun and she let go of the break, zooming through the pack of dead. From the highway there was another pack of dead on their way. "They heard her screech" Luka groaned once again, knowing she would end up as one of the dead if she did this alone. Luka sped past a survivor that was just standing there in the street.(Simon) She skidded to a stop and looked back to him "You better run, here they come!" she grinned and looked past him as the pack started toward them.

 

[Autumn]

Walt flinched as the cool metal of the gun made contact with the back of his head. Damn. He dropped his bat and it made a clatter as it settled on the ground. "Don't shoot, okay?" he pleaded as he slowly turned to look at the girl. A girl. He was surprised, really. She was quite the shot. With a half smile, he shook his head. "Not a thief, doll," he replied, eyebrows raised. He tried to remember why he had followed her. That was the problem with Walt: he never thought things through, he just did, so most of the time he was confused by his own actions. Maybe he had wanted her weapon. That was highly likely his subconscious plan. His bat wasn't that great of a weapon. He had to get too close to do any damage and that did no one any good. He just shrugged at her, that being all the answer she would get as to why he was following her.


"So, is the store empty?" he asked, throwing caution to the wind and stooping to grab his bat from the ground. He knew that, in this new world, the people were just as dangerous as the dead. Hell, they could be even more dangerous. At least if you saw one of those damn things came at you, you knew it wanted to kill you. People, well, they would pretend to be your ally and then kill you for what you had. Walt wasn't so scared of death, truthfully. He figured if one of those things didn't get him, it would be a human. Even if he did survive the end of the world, what would there be for him? Parents who didn't seem to care. He sighed. He wouldn't die without a fight but at least he accepted the inevitability of his fate and realized there was nothing for these people. He stood back up, giving the girl with the gun pointed at his face a small smile and salute. "Well, I suppose I'll ju-" he began before a high-pitched wail pierced the air. Walt winced, looking around to find the source of it.


Oh, yes. Walt had encountered these things before. In his mind's eye, he saw the eerie glow of the fire from that night. His friends surrounding the fire along with some people he had recently met, all brought together by this damned virus. None of them knew the horrors that night would bring. Walt shivered, brought back to the present and the very real danger they were faced with now. "I don't know about you, doll, but I'm gonna go with the others down there. Better chance those things won't go after you when you're in a group," he said with a wink before sprinting down the road towards the others.


He slowed as he approached them, a friendly smile on his face. "I heard the gunshot and I suppose you all heard the wail. Perhaps we should go?" he suggested, raising his eyebrows at them.


--


Becca smiled at Lane. He almost reminded her of a little kid in the way that his smile and lightheartedness were infectious. The relief she felt when Lane exclaimed he thought it was a good idea for them to travel together was comparable to nothing. She had been on her own for so long. She didn't have a problem finding food or water: those things she could handle. It was the dead that walked. She had been faced with a situation like the one she had just been in before, only there hadn't been anyone to save her that time. She hadn't killed that walker, though.


Thinking back on that day, she didn't really remember how she had made it. Luck, she supposed, was what to call it. It had been raining pretty heavily the days before and this was the first day it was safe enough to travel so Becca had packed her meager belongings and set out from her deserted apartment to find her parents and sister. She assumed that, if her sister was alive, she would have left for their parents farm to the south. Becca remembered walking through flooded streets. She had never seen the dead firsthand before. She had watched the news, of course, but those broadcasts ended quickly in her city. She thought it was her sister for a moment but, as she called her name and approached, she instantly realized her mistake. The zombie was upon her in seconds, threatening to end her journey before it had really begun. She remembered finding the strength, perhaps due to adrenaline, to push the woman away and run. Becca ran until she thought she would pass out from exhaustion. She couldn't get the image of that woman out of her head, though. It was the most grotesque thing Becca had seen. She shuddered, remembering her glassy eyes and the horrid smell.


Shaking her head, Becca returned to the present, smiling once again at the two of them. "So, where shoul-," she started but what cut off by a terrible noise that reminded Becca of nails on a chalkboard. She covered her ears, wincing at the sound. "What was that?" she asked, eyes wide. She had never encountered anything but the normal infected in her travels. She was unaware that there could be mutations caused by the virus. She jumped as the man appeared next to her. Confusion colored her face as she stared at him. She heard him suggest that they leave and she frowned. "Why, what's going on?" she asked, looking between the three of them, hoping someone could give her an answer.

 

[MsTeaTime]

She didn't lower her guard, but Amelia backed off a little with the rifle. She’d barely had a chance to glance around the store and she only had a couple of food items at the moment. The shriek pierced her ears and sent a shiver down her spine. The guy called her doll for the second time and darted from the grocery. Amelia poked her head out after him, seeing the horde in the distance. What a horrific turn of events.


Maybe he’s right, but maybe he’s wrong. If we group together it could be for the increase in ammunition, but on the other hand we’d be one single target. Oh god, why did I even bother with that one dead thing.


Amelia cursed to herself as danger was closing in. No time for food, no time for thoughts. She swung her gun by its strap over her back and ran after the peeping tom through the alley, into the group. She only took a moment to pause and look at them all gravely before darting, igniting her favored method of survival. If they followed than more power to them and it would decide if they were a smart group to hang around for a time.


She ran back towards the diner, kicking her foot off the side of its wall to project her leap atop the dumpster. It was a method she’d calculated in advance when scoping out the town. There was a slightly rusted ladder handle not far above her. She jumped as high as she could, grabbing ahold of the second to bottom bar and using her elbows on the lowest one to push herself up. She finally rolled onto the roof of one of the buildings in a matter of about 30 seconds.


The path to be taken was clear and it would buy some time to escape the masses, although mutations would be a problem. It was possible for now though, to hop this trail of roofs all the way to a used car lot on the opposite side of the town. From there it was improvising. From this height she could see the wild form of a girl on a dirt bike, she was drawing a lot of attention and Amelia hadn’t seen her before. From her hindsight it was suicide, and she didn’t have time to care. She looked over her shoulder to see who was following.











Simon was almost smacked in the face by the grocery door, twice, neither of the survivors noticing him on the other side. They both took off into the alley and just as he was about to follow, a bike skidded to a halt beside him.


"You better run, here they come!" A girl with black hair and face piercings grinned wildly at him. He turned his head to where she indicated and the fleshy pack from before had at least doubled in size. He was about to run for his life when he noticed her gun,


“Let me drive! You shoot! Deal!?” He ran towards her while he yelled frantically and secured his crossbow at the hip. He didn’t have much ammo to waste.

 

[Luka]

Luka revved the engine and looked to him. She pulled out her AK and pointed it at a nearby dead. She pulled the trigger and a few rounds went into its head and neck. Grinning with satisfaction she eyed his crossbow then nodded. She moved back and let him onto the dirt bike. It took off and she turned around, holding on to his shoulder so she wouldn't fall off. She aimed for the talon lady and pulled the trigger. She unloaded a full clip into her head causing her head to become swiss cheese. Luka laughed and looked at Simon over his shoulder. "Speed it up. Circle around and get behind them. We can meet up with the other survivors in a bit." Her thick russian accent yelled over the roar of the engine.


( [MENTION=4111]MsTeaTime[/MENTION] sorry if it seemed like I was controlling your character... Im not trying to)

 

[MsTeaTime]

(It's fine, It's a little difficult to interact properly without making really short posts or talking about the other person in a situation like that. I understand. ;P)


Simon put the petal to the medal, more worried about being eaten than not having a helmet. He sped down the road and tried to get a glance behind him to assess the number of zombies on their tail, but all he could see was the girls hair whipping in the wind behind him. She girl was spraying bullets everywhere from what he could hear, and seeming to enjoy herself.


"Speed it up. Circle around and get behind them. We can meet up with the other survivors in a bit."


No way.


He thought, absolutely not. "I can't do that, you should save you ammunition!" He yelled back, "What happens when you run out?--I think we need escape for now, there's just too many and more will come. We need to get out of this town!" He could see where she was coming from though, she was drawing the dead away from the others. It was a heroic gesture, but he rather not die today, they were doing enough as it was. He heard another firing round and cackle from the girl and then he retracted his heroic idea. She was insane! Leaning as they rounded a corner, he spotted talons and the mutated woman lying still on the road.


"Oh my god, you killed that thing!" His words echoed with hum of the engine down the alley route they were now taking. "You're so lucky, those things are dangerous!" He slowed their acceleration for a moment, they were finally starting to loose those rotted corpses. Just as he was feeling relief, the engine sputtered and for the first time Simon looked at the gas gauge. "It's empty! We gotta ditch it!" They came out the alley on another road, passing a parking lot for campers when an idea struck him. "What you say we jack one of those things after we loose these guys?" He called back to her in earnest.

 

[Luka]

Luka smiled and hopped off the bike. She calmly walked after him and looked to the campers. She smiles and laughs some with a wink. "Do you know how to hot wire?" She asked. Luka you fu*king idiot. Other survivors will slow you down. Luka glared down at her feet some "Oh shut it Lane! You where never a help anyways". She looks up to Simon and smiles again. "Ill keep them away if you can hot wire and load it with gas." She pulled out her long sword and glanced over her shoulder at the pack of dead slowly making their way over. "Or you can always play hero and kill them all. Ill do the hot wiring." Again a voice popped off in her head Kill him Luka, DO IT! She pushed the voice away and shook her head "They are always pests." She smiles and awaits for his answer, cocking her head to the side some.

 

[Luka]

(My posts are really short. Sorry D: )

 

[MsTeaTime]

"Do you know how to hot wire?"


"Actually I do, so---"


"Oh shut it Lane! You where never a help anyways".


"Umm.. That's not my name but, I'm gonna just-"


"Ill keep them away if you can hot wire and load it with gas. Or you can always play hero and kill them all. Ill do the hot wiring.......They are always pests."


"Yeah..I'm counting on you, yell if you need me." Simon ran to the Side of the RV, flabbergasted by the girl's wicked tongue and assuming by 'pests' that she meant the zombies. I guess living in this world can just make a person angry all the time.He tried the side door, of course it was locked and so he beat the handle down with the back end of his crossbow until he heard the lock pop loose. He yanked the door open and ran up the three steps into the vehicle. He was about to head for the driving area when a snarling zombie came running from the back at him. He instantly, mostly on instinct, nailed an arrow in the center of her forehead causing her eyes to roll back in her head and the body crumble to the ground. "My god." He whispered to himself as he bent over to rip the arrow from her skull and reload his bow with it. He hadn't been expecting the place to occupied. Simon shook it off and ran to the drivers area, glancing out the windshield to see how the girl was fairing.

 

[Luka]

Luka slammed her sword into the ground and leaned against it. She watched the dead slowly make their way over. She looked back "Come on It aint gonna hot wire its self" She called to the boy and pulled her sword from the ground. She spun in a 360 motion cutting through the neck of one the dead. She darted forward and slammed the tip of her sword through the head of another dead. She called back again "Hurry!" she groaned. LUKA! RUN! The voice in her head called as she spun again and cut through the stomach of a dead.

 

[MsTeaTime]

Simon looked at the girl as she sliced a zombie in the gut.


Does she know what she’s doing? He thought as he motioned to her to aim for the head. He pointed at his head and pointed at the zombie that was still crawling up the blade of her sword as he mouthed,


“Aim for the head!”


His heart was racing from the pressure when he laid down under the steering wheel and pulled off the plastic ignition cover with some effort, ripping it from the screws. The thick plastic cutt his hand when it broke off, revealing a bright red blood beneath his skin. His hands were white, clammy and shaking while he gently pulled cords down from the ignition chamber. No blood was flowing out of his wound yet since his hands were above his heart. He was praying to himself that the girl was still alive out there and that zombies were not flooding into the RV to end his short life.


Focus, focus..


He urged himself. His fingers finally wrapped around the thick red power cords, knowing from experience that it was the two center red cords and not the outer one and also hoping that this RV was the same. He bit into the red cords, but failed to make an incision when it dawned on him to use his arrow. He carved into the wire with the sharp end of the arrow as fast as he could, sweat beads accumulating on his temple. Finally cutting the two, he twisted them together and lunged up from the floor. Now that the power for the car was circulating, he stabbed the tip of his arrow into the ignition and turned it, revving the engine a little by pressing down on the acceleration until a satisfactory turn and chug could be heard as the vehicle came to life.

 

[Luka]

Luka jabbed the end of the sword into its head and looked back at the RV. A grin formed over her lips as she took off toward the RV. She put her longsword back in its sheath as she darted for the RV. She pulled out her gun and shot a near by dead. She took ahold of the handle on the outside of the RV and jumped in. She looked back to the boy and yelled "GO!" she pointed her gun out the door and shot another dead. She looked to the dead woman on the ground that the boy must have killed and pushed her body out of the door.

 

[Sprinkles228]

( Sorry I haven't posted yet! I will post ASAP, my laptop has been messing up lately )

 

[Luka]

(It seems we have died?)

 

[MsTeaTime]

(Idk I was gonna post but I was waiting for some of the others to. It's possible we have a mass ditching on our hands.)