The Living Dead

[zerohour]

Zombies were supposed to be a joke.? Something that you see on movies or joke about with your friends.? Unfortunately, for some reason or another, they became real.

No one knows exactly what happened.? Some say it was an experimental rabies vaccine that didn't work right, some said that it was a newer, deadlier version of mad cow disease.? Some say that it was the heralding of the Apocalypse.? It didn't matter, all that mattered was that zombies were real, and they were here.

Within days, almost every major city had reports of zombies.? Within a week, the infection spread.? By the time the military mobilized, their numbers were too great to contain.? Heavy weapons were too risky to use in civilian populated areas, and infantry could just as easily become victims.? They had more success in less populated areas, but there as just too much ground to face the horde at every front.

The objectives quickly changed from extermination to containment.? Air travel was shut down, and any planes were either shot down or redirected to containment camps.? Safe locations established and their locations were broadcast on the TV and radio.? The military abandoned us in order to preserve the lives of those lucky enough to be evacuated.

Since then, there hasn't been any news.? Aside from the endlessly playing list of safe locations, there hasn't been anything.? For all we know, the so called "safe" locations had a containment breach and have been overrun with zombies.? They could write the cities off as a total loss and just nuke us into oblivion.? There's no way to know.

It's up to us to save ourselves.? Either by escaping to one of the military's positions and hoping it's still safe, or by hiding and waiting for the zombies to die.? No one is going to save us, so we have to save ourselves.

I just hope we make it.

He sighed as he read the except, before tossing it back into the street. Who knows, maybe it could give some poor soul some hope. In all likelihood, the writer was already dead or zombified, and clinging to their last written words wuldn't do any good. Besides, it would just weight him down, and the food he had collected was already doing an exceptional job of that. So D-, no, Zero, set out to his hideout.

It was easier to just forget his old name for now. Easier to dissociate the relatively comfortable time he was The old him was gone, he might come back some day, but for now, there was only Zero.

Sighing again, he glanced around the currently empty streets, before heading back to the bookstore. There wasn't anything too valuable there, so it was safe from street gangs, and he had fortified the second floor to repel zombies. Plus, there was always something to entertain himself.

Noticing the sun was starting to fall, Zero slug his sack of loot over his shoulder, and readied his bat. It was going to be another restless night.

 

[Aarik]

Thinking back, if I have to curse anything, it was my optimism.

I thought this would be like the games and the stories, where I could rise up and show what I could do, save people, be the hero...

That I wasn't just some apathetic shut in, who didn't care about anything.

But this isn't a story, it isn't a game.

Or at least, if it is, I'm just one of the hidden bonus characters, at best.

Because Main characters don't get overwhelmed completely for this long, they don't get reduced to the point that all they can do is defend, defend, defend, with no hope of offense at all.

Well, most of the time.

Depends on what Genre.

If it's Action, it'll either be another Shield like me, or some military guy who got stuck here, maybe a cop or a teenager.

If it's Horror, it'll either be a Doctor, a Soldier, or a Teenager.

If it's Drama it'll be something unexpected or ridiculous.

And if it's Tragedy I'm fucked.

Best not dwell on it.

If I'm a Shield... I need a Sword and/or a Lance.

Need at least three more people though, almost always a group of three or four in Zombie movies and games.

Why do I always think about this kind of shit?

All it ever does is make me depressed.

I should head back, I'm not finding anyone right now, and this stupid rusted up, spike covered truck only has a few gallons of gas left, I can't let it get too low or I won't be able to gun it if necessary.

Most people would call it paranoia... But really.

What knows defense better then a Shield?

That's all I am, really, all that's left worth mentioning anyway.

 

[Shaderic]

Location: The corner of West and Martin Rd.

Now, let's see here. According to my map, the rendezvous point is located about... Thirty miles west of the city, and the convoy leaves in three days. I can do this.

I just need to keep going west...

I looked up and down the thankfully empty street. And then looked up. It's overcast, and I don't have a compass. Or, a reliable city maps.
Best to get a move on, then.

 

[zerohour]

As day turned towards night, the city began to change.

Lone survivors still uninfected settled down, checking their fortifications and put their weapons withing arms reach,.

The gangs that had formed lit up their fires, and their "volunteer" watchmen gazed fearfully into the dark.

Cars roared to life as the less sane citizens geared up for the hunt.

And everywhere, as a zombie fell asleep, five more woke up to roam the streets.

The city, while nothing near safe, had made the transition from its uncertain position into truly dangerous as the sun set.

Just like every other night, it was going to be a long one.

(I'll post some chaos soon, unless someone else does.)

 

[Aarik]

Truck in the 'garage'?

Check.

Front door locked, sealed and braced shut?

Check.

Traps armed?

*Click*

Check.

Fake wall at the back of the first floor blocking the entrance to the second floor covered by the tarp?

Check.

Top of ladder to second floor sealed up, weighed down and pulley's retracted?

Check.

Door to third floor locked, sealed and braced shut?

Check.

Shotgun's nearby?

Check.

Favorite pillow, the one that's four feet long and has Leopard spots?

Check.

Goodnight.

*Click*

 

[Shaderic]

"Just... a little... MORE!"

With one more heave, I pulled myself the rest of the way up into the low roof of the gas station. It had already been pilfered, and dried blood stained the floor. But, with a little help from mr. Tree, I had managed to get myself up onto the top.

I looked across the dark street, and wriggling shadow below. I stopped looking. The city was a lot scarier, minus the sun. And with no power, the night was a lot more... primal is probably the best word. All the moaning and screaming doesn't help much.

A moment of fiddling in the dark eventually got my backpack open and another of fumbling netted me my sleeping-bag.

I took a sip from my waterbottle, and decided to refill it downstairs in the morning. At least the water was still on.

At least training in basic had taught me how to take my boots on and off in the dark. I did this with much less effort, and the socks came off pretty quick after. Two minutes of fighting a zipper later, I was almost ready to go to sleep. Apart from the horrible moaning. Fortunately, as someone who works around big and loud airplanes alot, I had carried earplugs.

As rolled them up, I took a look at the sky.

Stars, and a beautiful moon, tonight. By tomorrow evening, a really bad storm was supposed to be going by. Amazing how things could look so calm, when just around the corner, something big is brewing.

I snuggled into my bag, and closed my eyes. Tomorrow was going to be a bad day.

 

[Aarik]

*WHAM*

"Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!"

My eyes shoot open, my arm snatches up the shotgun before my eyes even finish adjusting.

Nothing.

In this room anyway.

*Slam*

"Raaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Downstairs.

I haven't heard any explosions, so I'm pretty sure they haven't gotten in yet.

From the sound there are at least two.

I keep my eyes on the door to the second floor, and slowly move towards the stairs to the fourth...

The door clicks open, I shut it with my foot. I move to one of the three 'sniping' windows.

I gently ease the center window open...

Three, one of the bastards tried to ram the door, his front's a bloody mess.

I grab one of the targeting powder bombs.

Sodium and powdered glass, soaked in Hydrogen Peroxide, Nice white, sticky and shiny.

It also itched like hell and made it really hard to see and much harder to hide.

Nothing quite sticks out in the dark like bright white after all, add in the glass reflecting light and the peroxide's dull hissing and these zombies might as well glow.

I dumped a bucket of them out the window.

I hit two of them, the one who fucked himself up on the nails is starting to bubble up.

Must have a a few infections, shouldn't be surprised with all the random crap those things eat.

Now they're really screaming up a storm.

I grab the sniper rifle and the ear protection.

Gonna be a long night.

*Blam*

Shit.

I missed.

 

[Shaderic]

*BLAM*

GODDAMNIT!

Have you ever been sleeping, then been woken up by something? Something really loud too?

The earplugs barely stopped me from gettting alot of ear-damage, but what idiot was firing a such a frickin' loud rifle this late at night? I needed sleep. HE probably did too. So why was he taking potshots in the middle of the night?!

And that sound would probably draw more zombies in, too. More zombies, more moaning, louder moaning, and less chance of sleep.

No help for it. I snuggled back into my bag, closed my eyes, and prayed that the idiot would shut up.