Zombie Apocalypse

SanAndreas

SanAndreas

Junior Member
Character sheet if you want to join :) http://www.rpnation.com/showthread.php/4241-Zombie-Apocalypse-Survivors!?p=148082#post148082


http://www.rpnation.com/showthread.php/4241-Zombie-Apocalypse-Survivors!?p=148082#post148082


Giselle was talking thew the deserted streets of Bellchester, she looked up at the sky, it was about mid day. 'Better find a car to sleep in before it's dark.' She thought to herself. She really wanted to find a house to camp out in but it was to risky to raid a house by herself, and so far hiding out in cars was her best bet. She looked around her surroundings seeing nothing, but the empty park she was walking threw, but she was still alert, ready for anything.Besides knowing she was in a park she had no idea where she was. Since the city died and Zombies took over she kept on the move walking during the day since she could see her surrounding better and hiding out at night. When she walked out of the huge park she came to a deserted street and pushed one combat boot in front of the other. She took out her water from her satchel and twisted the cap off taking a sip as she looked around. She saw a few cars some distance ahead of her. She put her water away and began to walk to them hoping the windows weren't busted or anything.
 
Vincent had left his truck back at the deserted street between Deepdell ave and Wilder Rd. as he kept on looking for some source of food. So far, he's been surviving off water and the convenience stores nearby have already been raided. Vincent had his keys at hand and forgot to lock his doors but there's no doubt these zombies are as smart as they look. Odds were, they wouldn't know how to open doors. He continued his way back to his truck which was a long while away from his location but at the pace he was going, he'd be there in about 5 to 10 minutes. Vincent kept his grip on his axe strong in case of an attack but the day has been event-less for some time now.
 
Summer got to the cars quickly there was 4 cars and 1 truck and 2 of the cars had busted windows. Her eyes landed on the tuck. She made a face of appreciation. It was in pretty good shape compared to the other cars. She walked over to it and pulled on the handle. It opened and she grinned. "Jackpot." She muttered, and climbed into the truck. She looked around inside and smiled. There were a few useful things in here. She closed the door and climbed in the back seat. She set her bag down and laid her head down on it and looked up at the roof of the car and brought her legs up in a angle since she didn't have much leg room laying down. She took her gun out her holster and began to examine it.
 
After a moment of walking, Vincent came into the clearing of the street he was in recently, walking back to where he had left his truck. He made up his mind and figured he'd try the next town before making his way back to the Tennessee borders. He knew it would be safer there since he has already been there and knew almost all the "safe" routes in sight. As he approached the car, he noticed something odd in the back seat through the window. He saw healthy skinned thighs rolled up at an angle. Was he imagining this? He slowed down his walk to a quiet tiptoe and cringed his brows. What were they doing out here alone? But he was, in a way, glad to see another survivor, not that it mattered. He peeked an eye through the window where her head laid, watching her for a moment, examining her pistol. Quickly, Vincent pinned his fully loaded shotgun to the back of her head.


"Ain't your mother ever told you not to touch other people's property, yet alone, get in it?" He spoke in a deep and bored like tone, finger on trigger.
 
Summer stiffened when she heard a male voice. 'what the fu*k' she thought. Did she just hear someone talking? She sat up and looked past the window in front of her . She took the safety off her gun and and looked behind her. She saw a the front of a shot gun and man holding was aiming it at her head. She glared at the man. "No, she didn't actually." She snapped at the man. "But if you put your damn gun down then i will get out your precious truck." she said with a raised eyebrow in question.
 
Vincent knew better than to surrender a weapon when the defense had a weapon on their own and he sure as hell saw her put her gun out of its earlier position in safety. He just kept his gun leveled, what made her think he'd trust her. His eyes trailed to his gun.


"What? This? I'd rather not." He looked back at her with a stern glare.


"You just step out nice and slowly and maybe I won't shoot you?" He replied with the same expression she had given him.
 
Giselle nibbled on the inside of her cheek in frustration. But then a thought came to her and she squinted her eyes at him. "how do I know this is your truck. For all I know this a Zombies truck and they always let me crash in their cars." she tilted her head to side and gave a wicked grin.
 
This girl was getting on his nerves. Honestly, who argues with a person who's about to blow your brains out? Vincent quickly gestured to his pocket and shook his head with a sigh, not willing to further this conversation. He just wanted to get a move on.


"I have the key. It's mine!" He grumbled.


"Where you from anyways?" He wondered how far she's been walking.
 
The dreary night settled in, the overwhelming need for rest ever so slowly pushing at Joshua's will. He needed somewhere to sleep if he wished to survive the night. His hatchet was in hand, although his fingers slowly lost their grip. The lids of his eyes sagged wearily as his feet trudged across the cement. Two days it has been without rest. No sight of a living man in miles, zombies waiting behind every corner. He sighed heavily as he took another swig of the vodka he had clasped in his other hand. Only twenty years old, he thought it wrong to be drinking something such as this. So, to remain intoxicated, he forced himself to only take a sip every so often. When he really needed to. And right now was a time he needed to. Sheathing his hatchet, he shoved a cork into the neck of the bottle and placed it back into his pouch. Naturally, he wanted to save as much of it as he could.


The air whisked past his face as he pushed himself to find a place to rest. The bigger, the better. Cramped cars or phone booths were so easy to become trapped into. If the time came that he was surrounded, he wanted to be able to move. Dance with his opponents when they came into range. He chuckled slightly to himself, thinking of it. Dancing around a load of zombies while they tried to grab him. Of course he would never be able to do such a thing, but one can imagine.


Snapping out of his thoughts, he laid his eyes upon an interesting pair in the distance. Overwhelmed with excitement, his tired state began to shrink away. Survivors? Finally! However, with a closer look he noticed that they were not simply exchanging a friendly banter. They were arguing, or, more to the point, the man's gun was drawn. Rashly, he slowly began to approach them, trying quickly to remain out of sight.
 
Giselle smirked. "right" said said sarcasticly but turned around to climb out the truck. She forcefully pushed the car open and leapt out. Her boots made low clunking noise when the landed on the concrete. She reached in the truck and snatched up her bag. It was now dark outside she sighed in dissapointment. She hated the dark. But of course she wouldn't admit that. She put her gun in the holster on her thigh. She looked around, checking her surroundings down the street she thought she saw a figure and put her hand on her gun. She squinted to focus but nothing was there "hmm" she relaxed a little
 
Not gonna answer him, eh? Vincent just shrugged after she had stepped out and swung his axe into the trunk of his truck, readying himself to get on his way. He looked around, hearing absolutely nothing so hopefully the night would be just as peaceful as it went further into the rest of his ride. From his calculations, the next town wouldn't be too far but if it came down to it, he'd take one stop. Just as he was looking around, he found a staggering figure, trying hopelessly to get out of sight. At first, Vincent believed it to be one of those brainless monsters running around but he figured otherwise as he squinted his eyes, finding it to be more of a drunk sway. Another survivor? If it was, by the looks of his approach, he wouldn't last much longer. Vincent slowly entered the drivers seat and set his gun beneath him.
 
Joshua, seeing a nearby glance of the wary truck driver, decided to end his futile attempt to hide. Rather, he instead decided to approach. The woman who was now outside of the car, most likely waiting for the man to leave, was most likely in her late teen years. Although she appeared to have a weapon at her side, he could not tell how long it would last her. The man, appearing to be older than he, entered the driver's seat of his truck and jostled something beneath him. What it was, Joshua did not know, but he had to remain wary. Raising his hands above his head, he tried his best to seem innocent. Truly, he meant them no harm.
 
Vincent was ready to run him over if he was wrong with any of his accusations but let out a breath of relief once he saw the figure throw his hands up in surrender. He might've seemed to be of no harm as of now but sane can turn crazy in a matter of seconds so Vincent shut the door to his truck, starting up his engine and switching on his headlights as he slowly veered over to the man, setting him in the trajectory of the blinding light, finding him still in his humanly form but a little on the drunk side by the bloodshot tint of his eyes.


"What's your status, boy?" He shouted in a reasonable tone. He's heard this phrase said many times by "survivors" on his radio, meaning healthy or bitten.
 
The sun was beating down on his back, stinging his bare neck as he walked. He hadn't stopped for days, and his feet were beginning to hurt. He paused for a second wiping away the sweat trickling down his brow.


"I need to find somewhere cool to hang out before it gets to night fall..." he mumbled to himself, feeling a slight warmth travel up his spine to the base of his neck.


He suddenly froze; hearing a groan in the near upcoming corner of the highway he was on. His heart began to pound in his chest, his cheeks reddening. On instinct he quickly ducked down behind a blue SUV parked sideways in the highway up against the cement divider. The groan was coming closer, he ducked down, his chest touching the cool cement relieving the hot shirt he was wearing. He felt a cool breeze pass underneath the SUV as he looked under it to see what was coming his way.


There must of been at least 8 of them piling up against each other in a big group heading his way. He breathed out for a second not noticing he had been holding his breath.


"Sh*t" He gritted his teeth, his jaw tightening. He slowly pulled out his machete, tightening his grip on the leather handle. "This is not a good idea.." he whispered to himself closing his eyes momentarily. He felt his hard breathing beat up against the road, moving the small pebbles below his nose with his breathing. "Stay calm, you have training.." He said again, watching their feet stagger even closer.


He quickly hopped to his feet, but remained ducked down behind the door, his fingertips pushing up against the blue metal. Don't be stupid. His brain began to fight his decision to head into the hoard. "shut up.." He grumbled under his breath.


He stood up slowly, his 6'2 body stretching a bit over the SUV as he looked over the hood. This won't end well for you, Idiot. his brain screamed at him, as he took a deep breath. "It's all or nothing.."
 
Giselle was about to ask the man something when he got into his truck but she saw him looking where she was, and decided to look again this time focusing harder and then thats when when she saw a man walking towards them "Another damn survivor" She muttered when the man in the distance put his hands up. She saw the bright light beam out of the headlights of the truck and frowned up at the idiot. "Are you trying to draw attention to us?" She hissed out after he yelled out to the man who was approaching them.
 
"What? You scared, little lady? I've already scouted out the area..." He scoffed, not even bothering to defend his mentality any further. All he wanted at this point was some answers. Where were all of these survivors popping out from? Maybe they were still al...no. Vincent shook the thought from his head and waited for a reply, dimming his lights a bit once he noticed the fidgeting response he got from the man.
 
Giselle rolled her eyes. "No, but the last thing i need is Zombies trying to crawl up my ass." she responded. She looked back at the man in the distance, it was dark, iry dark, it gave her the creeps. She pulled her hood over her head and wrapped both her her hands on the strap of her bag that crossed over her chest. "Where are you from?" She asked the as*hole next to her. She was curious to know, she hadn't seen a survivor since she started her journey.
 
Oh, so now she wanted answers from me when she refused to answer my question earlier? The nerve of this girl. Vincent just kept his voice down as he awaited the man to make his move again or at least try to respond, civilly, to his question.


"I'm from Tennessee, where I'm headed now." Why? She didn't have to know.


"Now will you answer your own question for me since you decided to ignore me the first time." He tried his best polite voice.
 
Giselle nodded after he answerd her question. "Im from here, Bellchester but i've never been to this part of the town." She answered and looked around her. She tended to do that a lot, always checking her surroundings. She looked back ahead of her. "And maybe i wouldn't have ignored you if you didn't have your shotty pointed at my face." She got irritated thinking about that. She hated knowing that he could have killed her if he wanted too. One gentle push of the trigger and BOOM!. ​'Ugh"
 
"Sorry about that, but trust has been thrown out the window now-a-days. You can't really blame me." He replied. Honestly, Vincent was still a bit upset about the whole infection thing going around so he didn't want to waste the progress he's made the past couple of months by letting another bitten get away. She seemed innocent enough. That's when a thought came to his head. Maybe if he couldn't kill the survivors since they were still fresh; he could help them get to the borderline just a bit past his destination. It's worth more saving two lives than letting them die, only to be turned into those nasty crawlers.
 
Reyna arrived home just before dusk with perfect timing. Sloppiness got you killed. If she got to have her way she would never go out at night, it was common sense, the infected were night dwellers who generally slept during the day, to go out at night was asking for some serious trouble dished out to you on a silver platter.


Ever since the breakout, she had begon to build up her apartment like a fortress. She had reinforced the entreeway around the front door as well as add a dozen extra locks and other metal supports. The windows on the front and back of it had steel paneling. Over the past few months she had carefully built up her pantry with non-perishable foods, her closet with first-aid gear and chemicals, and raided the gun stores for bullets for her MEU M-45, she could have gotten a better hun, a shotgun, or something bigger, but to her there was something familiar about her gun. It had been with her ever since she had completed her training in the Marines back when she was eighteen years of age. It had been with her when the virus had blossomed into the horrible pandemic that had come to infect the world. It had been there for her through all the tough times. It reminded her of all of her military buddies and mentors that had died, some who she had watched died and turn into the ungodly monsters, who she, knowing there would be no cure for them, had put a bullet through there skull. It was her steady. It was special to Reyna, she had an attachment to it.


She padded into the kitchen in her socks and grabbed her dinner of powdered eggs, canned tomatos, and canned soup with a bottle of water. She sat down with her legs curled under her and her plate on her knee at the front windows on the second story of her two story apartment. In the darkness she ate tastelessly, the lights from the kitchen behind her set on dim and the last light of the setting sun across the horizon the only thing that illuminated the porcelain dish in her hands. This was the only set of windows she had yet to close down, normally she would have closed them by now, but something had made her sit there with them open.


Reyna scooped that last of the dregs of tomato juice and eggs into her mouth and took a swig of water then stood up with her plate. It was then that something caught the corner of her eye. She froze. Her heart began to pound against her ribs. Her hands fell numbly to her sides, the plate slipped out of her hand and clattered to the floor. Reyna leaned forward and pressed her hands to the glass, it was cool under her touch. She shook her head slowly side-to-side, No, it can't​ be, I'm dreaming...She chided herself in a daze.


A light was shining up from behind some trees about two miles away, flooding the face of the buildings. Like a spotlight...Reyna didn't think the infected had any human left in them, what if it was a trick to draw her out, acting blindly on her curiosity. Well, it worked... She closed and locked the metal panes of the window and turned toward the kitchen, dinner completely forgotten. She would to break her rule tonight. What if it is other survivors? She thought, They could be passing through. This is my chance. I can't miss it...She stopped herself, she was in the middle of lacing up her combat boots...What if it is a trap? Reyna continued to make sure her camouflage cargo pants were properly tucked into her boots.


She buckled her belt around her waist and fascened the straps over her shoulders before buckling on her black body armor vest over her black tee-shirt. Reyna attached her gun to the belt and her sword to the other side and double checked she had her knife. If she was going out at night she had to be prepared. Reyna paused at the thought and went into her closet were she stored her things from the amou store. She made sure her vest was reloaded with magazine, her eyes grazed the shelf as she did so and her gaze landed on a small thick plastic box. She picked it up, almost experimental and weighed it in her hand for a moment before zipping it into her vest. She had to be prepared if she was going out at night.


On her way out she picked up her keys to her car and her gloves laying on the kitchen table, she would be taking the SUV tonight.


((Sorry about extremely long post. It was to catch up, I usually don't have them this long.))
 
In silence, Joshua observed those before him as they held their own conversation. They spoke on about themselves, where they were going, where they are from. Feeling a pause in the current statement, he decided to quickly chip in; "If I may, you said you were going to Tennessee? I was planning on heading down that direction as well, in hopes of finding something dear to me. I will be no trouble, I promise. I have enough food to take me all of the way there, and I enjoy silence." ​He murmured, trying hard to be heard by the two. He always had a problem with that, specifically; not many cared to listen to him before the virus sprouted. Even now, not many do; just a farm boy in a larger world. Carefully, he waited for their response as he shifted his footing. Although his hands were above his head, he noticed a crashed mini-van nearby. Although it was totaled, and thus unusable, it would make ample cover if the man or the woman began firing.
 
Vincent was just about to say something in addition when he finally heard a reply from the man he had shined the light at earlier. Carefully taking in his words and watching his every move, Vincent listened, glaring at him for what seemed like eternity. He thought over his earlier thought and paused. This was taking more time than he had expected and it wasn't like him to think about leaving anyone behind, nonetheless, the thought has came up many times before. What if he'd regret this? He didn't need anybody slowing him down to his demise.


"You any good with them buggers?" He finally asked, nodding him over.
 
"If I wasn't, would I still be alive?" Joshua replied with a grin. Taking light a situation that appeared otherwise saddening was a difficult thing to do, especially in times such as these. He wasn't really trying to joke around, rather, he more wanted to share a more jovial personality. Times like these, everyone seemed gloomy. After the moment faded, he decided to answer the question, decently; "I'm better with my hatchet than my gun, but I don't think that'll be too much of a problem. Even if we were alone or together, we would still be runnin' if a large group came tumblin' through the brush. I'll be able to help yah' in a pinch, however. A few zed won't keep this boy down." He was rambling, he knew. Never was the type for forward conversation, but he at least put his point across.
 
Vincent looked the boy up and down, taking in his character as if deciding what to do with it. He obviously was as scared as a bitten, paranoid and shaken but he seemed to have a sorta determined build to him. As he rambled, Vincent's expression stayed the same, roughness plastered on his face. He let a long, silent pause pass through as the boy finished up his attempt of winning him over. Vincent then looked out his window and down at the boy's hatchet, examining it. It wasn't half bad but a little outdated, not a problem when it came to these "zed" as he called them. He then returned his sharp gaze to the boy and gave a light nod to the trunk.


"Hop in."
 
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