City of the Dead

[Eric Easy E Pelka]

“Hear that Lonesome Whippoorwill,” a radio sung softly from the small building sitting at the corner of 14th and Michigan Ave. “He sounds too blue to fly.”

The sun was going down, descending below the city sky line. Soon the peace and security that the day provided would be gone. The moans and screams that drifted over the city would no longer be predictable. Danger lived in the shadows. Sitting on a balcony protruding from the second floor of O’Kelly’s Pub, a dark figure took a long draw from a cigar, before blowing the smoke into the fading light.

“The midnight train is whining low. I'm so lonesome I could cry.” The radio sang a last lyric before the buildings power automatically shut off and melted into the silent night.

“Well, looks like it’s just you and me,” he said in his thick burly Irish accent, looking at the inch of whiskey left in his glass. “To 12 nights of survival, may Mary herself walk me through the valley of the shadow of death.”

With those words he sucked down the last bit of tobacco in his cigar and chased it with his glass of whiskey. Standing up he made his way back inside, sealed the door, and walked to the cabinet in front of his bed. In front of him sat a shoulder strap holster, a police issued pistol, and a badge. He inspected his clips, his pistol, and put his holster over his shoulder. Feeling confident that his gear was on correctly, the man picked up the badge; it read: ”Chicago Police Department, Officer Patrick O’Kelly”.

“Well Patty boy, looks like it is time we kick a little ass.” Putting his Badge on the red bearded man walked out of the room, down the stairs and slipped out the front door of his Pub.

The light had all but faded and the moans had increased exponentially. This was Chicago; the city of Al Capone, of John Dillinger. But all the aging police officer could see was a husky brawling city that had been brought to its knees. A city filled with people who became the ravenous monsters the city had always been infamous for. All Patrick knew was this was another night on the job.

[dhusted34]

He woke up with a light sweat cold on his body. There were many things on his mind. How long had it been since he ate last? What time was it? And then he heard it. The familiar moans and screams from through the once flourishing city of Chicago. All of a sudden, none of his questions mattered. The only important thing was that he needed to get out of the light of the street lamps and up. Up on the buildings where they couldn't get.

The rough looking man walked towards a building with a sign that read, "Mitch's Deli." He walked over towards the nearest window and began to climb. It appeared to be a circus act as the scrawny fellow worked his way up to the roof of the building. When he finally reached the top, he pulled a single Polaroid from the pocket of his jacket. The picture contained himself and a somewhat cleaner looking, older fellow.

He flipped the photo around and on the back a short message was scribbled. It read as follows, "Alex, you're the best friend I ever had. Remember, always survive. Trust nobody." It was signed, "You're pal, Safe."

Just as Alex finished reading the note, he caught something on his ear. It wasn't the typical moans he was used to, but it sounded like music. He stood up on the roof and glanced down the road a couple hundred yards, and what he saw scared him more than the walking corpses. He saw a man....open a door, and shut it. The sign read "O'Kelly's Pub." The pub was about ten roof tops away. The words were still on the back of his mind... "Trust nobody."

[todd2point0]

His eyes snapped open with a start.

"When did I doze off?" Kevin asked himself aloud. He pushed himself up off the wall and out of his seating position. As he walked across the upstairs room to his gym he couldn't help but think of how many times he'd come close to dying, and how much things had changed in his life the past week and a half.

After the incident at the gym he didn't know what to think. He made his way to the police department, but no one was any help there. It seemed like the whole town was being turned upside down. Once finally back at his place he poured himself a drink, and decided to go through his gun collection. Just to be on the safe side.

His reminiscing was cut short as his attention snapped back into reality when he realized he heard music off in the distance. He thought his mind was playing tricks on him, but when the song kept going he realized that he wasn't going crazy. This meant one of two things. One, that someone out there had a radio, or two something had managed to turn on the old jukebox down at the pub across the street.

"I'll have to check that out later if it keeps playing," he thought to himself as he took stock of what he had left: One 12 gauge shotgun with only 20 shells left, two 9mm pistols with 2 full ammo boxes worth of clips, and one military issued M16 with 5 clips left and 6 grenade plugs that he got to keep after his service in the Army.

After taking inventory he realized that the music had stopped, and looked out the window just in time to see a lone man walking out the doors of the pub.

[Kristen Caselnova]

Mia couldn't take it anymore.
Everyone she had ever known, everything she loved was destroyed within 12 days of the outbreak. She remembers when it first hit. The blood, the patients and the panic that had consumed not only the hospitals but the whole city. The doctors were in shock to see the dead walking among the living, and yet how could this be possible? There had to be a reasonable, scientific explanation for this, right?

"This has to be a nightmare. There's no such thing as the walking dead," she thought to herself. She instantly opened her eyes, to find that reality had come crashing down, and that this hell that she lived in was in fact actually happening. Rushing around her small apartment overlooking union Park. It was a bit of a distance from her studio to the hospital but she was smart enough to go earlier in daylight to grab supplies from the hospital in her gym bag that she got for free from the MMA Gym she recently started going to.

She needed a change of pace; something different than track and field. She needed a vacation. Away from this shark infested waters she used to call home. But she knew that she always wanted to help people, and now her city needed her more than ever.

Running low on energy and sleep, Mia could hear the groans getting louder which meant it was time for her to leave her place and carry on. With swiftness, she grabbed her duffle bag, and her colt 45 pistol. She knew that she only had two clips left for it, but it was the only protection she had left until she could make it to the police station to steal more ammo.

Lacing up her sneakers, and putting her earphones in, she shoved her photo in her bag and closed her door for the last time of her second floor studio home. She made it to the bottoms steps and with a deep breath, she began her jog to beat the dead. She turned up her radio to as loud as it could go. A song came on that reminded her of her father and the tune seemed to soothe her heartache as it sang into her ears .."he sounds too blue to fly.."

[Eric Easy E Pelka]

OOC: My expectations for all of this have been blown out of the water. Keep it up guys...

IC:

The street used to be bustling at this time at night; a class at the gym across the street; the Tavern down the street rowdy with patrons; his Pub a reprieve from the elements; the Firehouse Restaurant. His stomach grumbled at the thought of the steaks the restaurant used to serve before its main dish became human flesh. Shaking off the thought, Patrick scanned both ways. It was dark. Only a single Lamp Post on the street was still working. Cars were parked or crashed along the sides of the road, but it was relatively quiet. Quieter than the last few days he had been out.

He had spent the last few nights venturing up and down the block. Clearing out what remaining creatures inhabited the general vicinity. It was surreal. Seven days earlier the bar was open still inviting guests in. Seven Days ago the city was still in denial over the gravity of its catastrophe. He pushed the thoughts down and turned south on Michigan Ave. His generator was out of fuel. He could no longer stay at the Pub. He needed to find somewhere new. Somewhere where he could still provide some help for the remaining denizens of this self realized city.

Where would I go if I were a pussy looking for some shelter? Patrick thought laughing at his own words. He was raised by a tough woman, in a tough house. He was taught to always help himself and never rely on others. The thought of being so helpless that searching for help was necessary was comical. Guess I better be gettin’ to the station. Sure me Bosses would love to see my face around there. Poor sods have too much faith in those bastards in blue…

Resolved, Patrick turned right and headed south toward the Police Station. It wasn’t far. But with most the lights out, the trek would prove to be challenging. The former citizens of Chicago loved to lie quietly in the shadows taking out their victims swiftly and mostly silently. Still the trip was necessary. Supplies and a working radio were too important to pass up. For Patrick the worry that survivors may have gone to the Police for help was too great for him to ignore. The South State Street Department was not far way, only about a half mile walk. Yet as the night got darker, the dangers lurking about became more and more daunting.

[dhusted34]

It didn't take long for Alex to make up his mind. Now that he was safely up on the rooftops, the questions returned to his head. Food? Water? This was going to be his only chance. He was in disbelief that somebody would be crazy enough to walk out into harm's way, when they were apparently perfectly safe where they were. This was it, he had to make a dash for O'Kelly's Pub.

The first jump was always the scariest for him. From his current rooftop to the next was six feet and he had to do it. Alex closed his eyes, mustered every bit of strength that he had left, sprinted for the edge of the building, and jumped. He kept his eyes closed and it seemed as though he was in the air forever. Finally, the young man landed, and he could only laugh at the fact that he cleared it by more than three feet. "Haven't lost a thing," he whispered to himself.

From then on out it was a pretty clear shot to the building that he saw the man walking out of. He went from building to building, jumping like some kind of urban cat. With only two gaps to go though, he happened to look down and he was instantly sick to his stomach.

It was a child, no more than nine years old, dead. The kid must've been trying to get away shortly after the outbreak began. He was laying face up with a rusty red bike laying over him. He appeared to be untouched by those damn monsters however. He glanced at both ends of the alley and saw that they were both barricaded now... Lucky kid, at least you get rest peacefully.

Alex leapt the final two gaps and for the first time in a few days, he was able to hear his own heart beat. He had to do this....now. He shook out his arms to make sure they still had some spring in them, grabbed the edge of the building, and began to lower himself. Luckily, he lowered himself right in front of a second story window with two boards nailed over it. There was no need to break the boards because he was now skinny enough to fit through, and the glass was already broken. He slipped in without a peep of noise.

"Trust nobody," was still ringing in his head, but that all disappeared when he glanced over at the first table he noticed and there sat a plastic bottle of water and a half eaten burger. "Gourmet dinner," he whispered to himself quite cautiously and walked towards the table.

[todd2point0]

"Who was that?" This question ran over, and over in his head while he was getting all his gear in place to go out and investigate this man, and what on earth could he be doing walking around at night like this.

It really doesn't make since. Night isn't the time when just anyone goes out these days. Unless this man has a death wish, but Kevin was enticed by the thought that this man was going hunting.

Ever since he had gotten safely back to his living area on the upper floor of his gym the idea of going out and hunting the thing that was hunting him. Why should he cower in a corner? This question plagued him until one day he woke up and took his M16 to the streets. The rush was like nothing he'd ever felt before. Testing himself in the ring was one thing, but actually playing with his own life elevated him to an all new high. One that he couldn't get enough of.

He made it downstairs and out into the cool dark streets of Chicago just as the stranger was rounding the corner at the end of the block. He figured he'd just follow close behind this guy for a time to see where he was going, and to find out where he was going.

He made his way quickly, but as silently as possible to the street corner he saw his new friend turn at.

[Kristen Caselnova]

She had felt like she'd been running for days. While running on low sleep, let alone barely eating, it was hard for her to keep pushing like she had done so many years ago. Back in the day she could run for hours not only for her fitness sake, but just being outside and feeling the city beat against her nike's was how she cleared her mind.

She thought she couldn't go on for much longer when she saw the broken sign for O'Kelly's Pub. "I'm sure there's plenty of alcohol there for wounds and well... what the hell, maybe there might be food there and I might as well have a drink," she thought to herself as she slowed her pace to a walk.

As she opened the door, with caution, she pulled out her colt 45. Walking in, swinging around swiftly watching for any movement that might bring her to pull the trigger. Approaching the bar, she started to search through the strongest of alcohol, grabbing what she could fit into her duffle bag. After finding what she thought was suitable for medical uses, she took a few shots herself, letting the alcohol soak and hit her like a tidal wave.

"There's no use sticking around. Sooner or later, they'll find me here, and I'll be damned if I'll be another meal." She yawned and started to stretch. Knowing that she only had a few more blocks until she could reach the police station was somehow soothing to know. She made sure her shoe laces were tight, because the last thing she wanted was to be outrunning a mob of monsters only to find herself tripping and sacrificing herself to them.

She returned her gun back in the back of her shorts, and pushed open those doors to the midnight sky. She took in the air and gagged, only to find she was choking on air that wreaked of the dead. Sighing, she pushed on the sidewalk, and began running through the streets again. "There's no place like home" she repeated over and over in her mind.

[dhusted34]

"Oh wow," were the only words that Alex could muster as he ate the cold dry burger. He felt like one of those competitive hot dog eaters as he practically drowned himself with the bottle of water while his mouth was still overflowing with the greasy beef.

He finished his meal and was relaxing in a chair; just enjoying the safety of the room. Not but five minutes had passed and he suddenly heard a door on what must've been the first floor open.

"Those fuckers can open doors?!"
As soon as he realized that he was shouting he threw a hand over his mouth in a cheap attempt to muffle the sound.

Alex got up from his seat and slowly walked towards the only door in the room. He opened it and the steps were only five feet ahead of him. He dropped straight to his stomach and slowly began to crawl towards the steps. He stealthily slipped down the stairs head first, only far enough so that he could see right below the overhanging ceiling.

What he saw would've flushed his face red with anger, if only it hadn't already been colored from holding himself upside down on the steps.
He whispered to himself in a disgusted tone, "A girl?! How the hell has a girl like that survived this long? She can't be older than twenty-two..."

The lady walked over to the bar, put some bottles in a duffle bag, and began to take a few shots.
"There's no use sticking around. Sooner or later, they'll find me here, and I'll be damned if I'll be another meal," the woman said to herself

It was the first time he had heard a human voice in what had to have been thirteen days now. The girl then gathered everything up, holstered a gun into the rear of her running shorts, and then exited the pub.

"Sooner or later they'll find me here...." Alex repeated the words to himself.
The woman was right. They would.
Alex understood that it was now time for him to move on also....but to where?

He then realized what he had just seen, and thought to himself in his head, "That woman's eyes. They were so...................... Hope."
'Hope' was the only word that Alex could think of....and he made the choice that he was going to follow Hope.

[Eric Easy E Pelka]

Patrick stood near the low light coming out of the Dunkin' Donuts at the corner of South Michigan and East 16th street. Either way would lead him to his destination, still he contemplated the safety of both routes. Michigan was a bigger more well lit street. It was likely that a blockade was never placed on it. Yet it was also more popular. If any of those…things were still in the area. They would definitely be on South Michigan.

Still, 16th street was dark, and lacked the sheer area for movement. If an unhappy pedestrian happened to catch him off guard, Patrick’s would have far less options for countering the attack. It didn’t take him long to decide to continue on Michigan. He had shot plenty men in his life, one or two more wouldn’t make a difference.

He continued on, walking slowly while trying to quiet his footsteps. His eyes and ears were wide open listening to every moan and every shuffle that echoed in the quiet empty city. He got halfway down the block and stopped. To his right he could here noises. Patrick turned slowly not wanting to make any quick movements.

There were two buildings a Sushi shop and a sign that read South Loop Animal Hospital. The sounds had seemed to halt, yet Patrick’s instincts told him to stay alert. Something was amiss. He whispered quietly, “Come get me ya bastards…I dare ya.” He un-holstered his Berretta and readied it breathing slowly so as to steady his hands.

He took two more steps; sill no sounds. Finally he resolved that the danger was past and began to walk away when a loud scream echoed from inside the Animal Hospital. It was female, it was young, and Patrick knew it was his duty to help the poor soul inside that death trap of a building. Jogging to the front door, Patrick put his back to the wall and checked the door knob. It was locked. Stepping away from the wall he picked his foot up and put all his force behind his leg. With one swift kick the door came off its hinges.

Nothing was inside. The backup generators were still running and a dim set of emergency lights lightly basted the entrance with light. Checking to his left and right, Patrick swiftly yet cautiously entered the chamber. He stopped and listened. A series of screams and cries were pouring from the back of the building. Someone was definitely in trouble.

“Alright ya bastards! You want to eat, come get me!” Patrick yelled boastfully, hoping to draw whatever was threatening the pour soul trapped in the building to him.

The screams got louder. Patrick moved swiftly to follow them. The hallway ahead was littered with bodies. They were still. Carefully stepping over them one at a time Patrick ensured none of them were still alive…ish. He made his way to the door at the end of the way and pressed his ear against it. She was on the other side, the cries were close. Just as he reached to turn the door knob, the door flew open sending Patrick to the ground, his gun slid back down the hall.

In front of him was a dog, half of its face dangling by a thin patch of skin. Its fur was matted with blood and lesions were sprawled around the feral beast. “Nice Doggy…” Patrick tried to calm the animal. It wouldn’t have it. Lunging forward the dog landed on top of the prone Irishman and snapped violently at his face, saliva dripping into his red beard.

Patrick struggled to hold the animal away from him but his strength was running out swiftly. Now what are ya gonna do Patty Boy. Tink. Tink hard me boy!

[Alain Laure]

A cold sheen of sweat covered Tobias’ body. Every muscle seemed to twitch at different intervals of sleep. His flashbacks followed him not only in battle situations, but seamlessly snuck into his dreams. Somehow a peaceful getaway on a small island had become an all-out warzone against the undead. Writhing ghouls outnumbered him, pinning him in a small alcove near the trees. This wasn’t optimal fighting at all. He could hear them in the dense foliage but it was too thick to see them. He reached down to un-holster his pistol, discovering that he was merely in swimming trunks. He growled and pulled his blade from the sand, readying himself in a stance that would best let him defend all around him. He was no longer Tobias, but Soldier Zero. He could see more bodies washing up onto the sand. As one noticed him, it let out a long, loud moan. Each head snapped in his direction, each arm pointed toward him. He could hear the wave of moans fill the air, choking it. It didn’t matter to him. His nerves were steeled, his concentration unbroken as they moved forward.

A gasp of air flooded into his body as Tobias shot upward, not merely leaning up from his sleeping position, but leaping to his feet as well. It was a beautiful performance of the body’s mechanics all working together; one he’d practiced many times over. He reached down to his holster, letting his and rest on his HDM, silenced pistol. He breathed slowly and silently, looking around the room quickly before dropping his stance. He took a quick glance out the window, taking in the number of bodies stumbling around. He was in one of the worst possible places; a city. With the countless rebels firing off arms as they saw fit, and the massive amounts of flesh for the undead to feed from, cities were highly-regarded as “no goes.” Zero on the other hand was on a mission. He was placed here. What faith he had in the officials giving the word from behind locked doors pushed him to accept the mission. He sighed softly and stretched his muscles, preparing them for the work ahead. After his muscles were readied, he recalled information. He was in the University of Illinois Chicago Medical Center, on West Taylor and South Wood. He’d chosen the location because it was the closest thing he could find to a medical outpost, without the dozens of zombies that would be in a traditional hospital after the initial class one outbreak.

Zero eased on his backpack, which had a few nondescript weapons, supplies, and some classified government implements. He shrugged a little, settling the straps in a comfortable position before tightening the laces on his boots. He adjusted the lightweight Kevlar plates on his vital parts and his arms and legs. They were a little cumbersome, but helped when his limbs were inches from the mouths of the undead. He covered his hands with leather, fingerless gloves. The patches of his SWAT-like uniform were ripped half-off; his nametag read merely “Zer.” He scoffed silently at how far he’d let his uniform fall. But this was survival, not a fashion show. He gripped the handle of his issued sword. The sword itself seemed like a combination of a Japanese katana and a combat knife. He asked for the weapon specifically because of the silent killing force and lack of reload time. His pistol had an integrated silencer as well, but it just seemed like something he should reserve for distance, not the closed-quarters silent killing of the streets.

He followed the stairs to the streets, encountering only the mutilated bodies from the previous night, which he’d left motionless on the floor. As he moved in the shadows, quickly and silently, he heard the screams and moans that filled this tainted world. He traveled South until he’d hit Roosevelt and proceeded East, toward the Chicago Harbor. He managed to sneak up on a smaller ghoul before severing its head from its spinal column. Fortunately, The main roads had been attacked first, leaving nothing for the zombies to feed from. This caused them to abandon Roosevelt altogether in search of more meat. His trek would be far easier than he’d originally thought. He pressed forward, his breathing regular and his body was without tension. He was a military machine, and he’d be ready for any cursed body he saw.

[Eric Easy E Pelka]

OOC:Just introducing this guy so he doesn't get forgot.

IC:
Jack Hathaway
Old St. Patrick’s Church towered ominously above Adam’s Street, peeking over the edge of the Kennedy Expressway. At one time the Catholic Church was thought to be the warmest church in the city, a beautiful testament of architecture prepared to welcome all into hits historic doors. Yet now it stood as a warning; a reminder to the city; It was human sin that led to this downfall. The cathedral, along with the archdiocese and Francis Xavier Ward School were surrounded by a wall made of cars and sheet metal. The place of worship had literally become a military base, fortified on all sides. But it was what was inside that was most threatening.

“Brothers, sisters, children! Hell is upon us. HELL has wrapped its jaws around this city of degenerates and Sinners, and now we must toil,” A burly man in a clean pressed black suit and white clerical tie shouted to a congregation of 100.

The audience shuffled hesitantly and then bowed their heads, “Yes Pray!” he screamed, and “Pray for your salvation, but FAITH without WORKS is dead my friends. And our hour is upon us. We alone have been charge with the duty of wrenching the human race from the Jaws of HELL!”

The crowd screamed in tandem, “AMEN!” and began to lift their hands up and rejoice. The Reverend paused, a small smile coming across his cold stern face. All he had accomplished. At the beginning of the outbreak a mere 23 lost souls served underneath him. His excommunication from the Puritan church ensured none would trust his “heretical” teachings. Yet now, only 12 days into the outbreak he had plucked 100 souls from a life of sin, created a sanctuary amongst the cinders of hell, and reaped the souls of countless evil men. The walking dead were not his concern. God had chosen to enact his judgment; he would serve in ensuring the harvest was swift.

“Go out my children of the Lord. Go out and do God’s work outside of these walls. Save the sinners from their own iniquities or lead them to the throne of Judgment!!!” He motioned for a man to stand with him and whispered in his ears, “Finish them off in prayer, I must attend to the callings of God.”

The man bowed as he turned and began to walk into an office behind the altar. The chants of the congregation’s prayer echoed throughout the Cathedral complex and poured threateningly out of the walls, into the streets of Chi-town. The brawling city had more than one worry on their hands. The Perish wanted a stake in its judgment too.

Sitting at his desk a satellite phone began to chime. The Reverend picked it up and answered, “This Jack Hathaway. The Police Department? South State Street? It’s there?! God’s will be done.” The phone shut off, as Jack Hathaway leaned over the map on his desk, and smiled. “Finally…”

[todd2point0]

Kevin walked the dark streets as silently as he could. Always taking in all of his surroundings so that nothing would be missed, for he knew anything he missed meant death for him or worse.

The man he stalked was about a half a block ahead of him when he stopped at the corner of South Michigan and East 16th street. Kevin knew that Michigan offered more room to maneuver. E 16th was to constrictive.

If this guy goes down E 16th Kevin knew he was a man looking to die, but if he went down Michigan that was another story. Going down Michigan probably meant he was more likely a man on a mission.
Lost in thought Kevin almost missed him make his decision, and start walking down Michigan. Upon seeing the choice the man made a light smile washed across Kevin’s face. “Tonight was going to be interesting”, he whispered under his breath.

He made his way down Michigan after his new friend. Suddenly he heard noises up ahead and immediately stopped. It seemed that the man he was following heard them as well for he had also stopped. After a few minutes he saw him taking a few steps forward, and a loud scream came from one of the buildings where the man was standing. He could tell that the voice was female and more than likely young.

Kevin saw the man make his way into a building following the noise, and he knew he had to do something. After a minute he made up his mind, and made his way up the street to the shop that he saw the man walk into.

The sign outside read South Loop Animal Hospital; “Ohh great”, Kevin thought to himself. He shrugged his shoulders, and made his way inside. He walked into find the man lying on the ground trying to fight off a dog that looked like it had been hit by a semi. He quickly grabbed a broken piece of wood, and then ran over to T off on the dogs head. He heard the snap of its neck, and then it went limp.

"Well hello there", Kevin said to the man as he reached down to help him up.

[Kristen Caselnova]

Mia slowed her pace to a fast walk. She didn't want to run anymore, because if those decrepit bodies were to start chasing her she wouldn't have enough energy to outrun them. She took out her earphones for her radio too, so she could be able to hear the sounds of the moans to tell how close they were and if they might be getting closer.

All she could hear was her own breath and the sound of her feet beating the pavement. She felt like there were eyes on her; following her, watching her to see her next move. It gave her the chills, but she thought nothing of it and continued along the streets. After all, if it had been someone that was alive, wouldn't they have approached her by now? She looked around to see what street she had reached to see she had managed to get herself onto west Roosevelt road and south Damen avenue. She knew this only because of the by-pass she went under. This was the route she would take to go back to her home to visit her loving parents.

She let the air swell in her lungs, although she hated the taste that lingered in her mouth now. It brought back a lot of memories from the hospital; like blood and sulfur, and above all the terrible taste sitting on her buds was the taste of hate and fear. She hated the trauma room for that reason. All the blood and gore, the sound of bones crushing together was enough to make anyone go mad but she had a strong stomach for it. She missed the hospital now. She missed the nurses, and the doctors because they all made her feel so very much at home. She missed the social interaction, watching how the medical chain worked. But mostly, she missed her patients. Knowing that she was needed, was all she ever wanted from her life. To take care of people who were willing to let her. She missed being needed.

"God do I need sleep. I shouldn't be that far from the station now" she thought in her mind. Her thoughts were racing around. She was trying to stay hopeful, thinking that there were still survivors out there that she could save or better yet, she was hoping someone would save her.


She let her mind wonder back to her surroundings, staying alert and yet so very weary at the same time. She had started to cross the bridge when she heard sounds coming from across the way. She immediately grabbed for her gun, cocked it back and swung it in front of her. Whatever was over there was waiting for her, and she wasn't trying to outrun it this time. She listened attentively, directing her mind in the way of the sounds. "C'mon stay awake, girl. Your life is depending on it," she whispered to herself. And with that, she picked up her pace and charged across the bridge searching to destroy whatever rotting corpse was awaiting her.

[dhusted34]

"What is this dumb broad running for," he asked himself as he crept out of O'Kelly's front door and saw her trotting down the road.
"Is she late for a very important date?"

Alex looked down at his feet and felt bad for himself for the first time since Safe died. He had thong flip flops on, with duct tape wrapped around his feet to keep them on; hardly running shoes at all. "Oh well," he mumbled to himself in a very nonchalant way. He jumped a few times in place to loosen his legs up and began to trot after her, sticking to the shadows of course.

Was he really this out of shape? Was he really out of breath? Alex couldn't believe it as he was struggling to keep stride with the pint sized woman. Time seemed to stand still and it felt like he had ran a marathon before she began to walk.

Alex was surprised that he had not been discovered by now, for he was only forty yards behind her, and the sound of his breathing had to feel contrastingly different on the ears mixed in with the moans of those ugly fucks. The young man was having an extremely hard time keeping his eyes off of her rear end...the gun of course. He realized that he had no means of protection if he were to be attacked. Glancing to his left, and then his right, Alex saw only trash laying on the ground. His only option was to put his arm through a handle of a metal trash can lid, and to use it as a shield. Hopefully if he was to be attacked by one of the monsters, he would be able to keep them at bay long enough so he could get the attention of the girl. And if he DID get her attention, he would just have to pray that she was one hell of a shot.

Several times the woman stopped to look at street signs and study her surroundings. Becoming a little aggravated, Alex hissed to himself, "What the fuck does it matter where you are?! Go where they aren't, it's that simple."

They were both on a bridge now, separated only by darkness with no physical barriers hiding Alex's presence. How he hadn't noticed was beyond him, but Alex looked down and one of his flip flops had completely fell off. When he looked up he saw the girl running again, gun in hand and apparently something had gotten her attention.

Alex immediately tore after her, but the dash came to an abrupt stop. The next thing Al knew, he was on the ground and it felt like something had smashed his ankle. He got to his hands and knees and peered behind himself. "Fuck me," he said when he realized that he had rolled his ankle on a crooked curb. "It isn't that bad," he told himself and attempted to stand up. He immediately dropped back down to his hands and knees and rolled over to his back. What he saw took his breath away.

He looked up into the sky and saw stars. Light. Everything out there was still fine. The stars reminded him of something. "Hope's eyes," he said to himself clearly. Alex couldn't let Hope get away.

With a final thought on his decision, he pulled out the picture in his pocket and began to whisper to it. "Sorry Safe, but I have to trust somebody. There is no way I am going to get out of this one on my own."

As he slowly placed the photo back into his pocket, Alex drew in as much air into his chest as he could contain, and yelled at the top of his voice. "Help me! Please!!! I'm behind you! The girl with the eyes!!!"

He accidentally moved his leg, and when he did, a sharp pain shot through his leg up to his hip. "If she doesn't help me, I'm going to be somebody's Happy Meal."

[Eric Easy E Pelka]

“Shit me boy. What took you so damn long,” O’Kelly breathed heavily, exasperated by the vicious attack.

Once his bearings were better focused, Patrick was happy to accept the lowered hand. In all his ventures around his block the past few nights he had never seen a creature like the one that almost devoured him. He noted to himself that the streets may hold even more dangerous foes, and from this moment on it would be wise to be more alert. No more leaning on doors making strange noises. It was sheer luck that this fine fellow before him showed up when he did. Without worrying about wiping the spattered blood from his face and clothes, Patrick bent over to pick up his firearm. Patrick hesitated. There was a sound in the distance. They weren’t alone yet.

Without a word, Patrick lifted his gun and aimed it in the direction of his savior. The man shuffled and gave Pat a nervous confused stare before getting ready to speak. However, Patrick’s Beretta didn’t give the stranger a chance to speak. Swiftly, O’Kelly shifted his weight and aimed over the right shoulder of the man firing two rounds. Behind the athletic stranger a dog pounced through the air, and whimpered as two bullets bit into its meaty skin. The creature instantly crumpled to the ground sounding like a raw piece of steak falling into the pan; a lifeless bag of skin and bones. Not with the steak Again Patty?!

“Well me boy, though your timing could use some work, I am mighty thankful for your help.” Patty holstered his pistol and reached his burly hand forward, “The names Patrick O’Kelly, Officer Patrick O’Kelly to a citizen like yourself. I recognize yer face me boy, what might be yer name?”

[machina]

A dry scratching sound echoed down the dark alley as Kana slowly made her way towards the main street, her eyes glazed over and her face spattered with blood. Her usually tidy hair was matted and strewn about her face, several strands caked in blood and plastered to her thin lips; her mouth parted as she struggled to breath. The air around her was thick and humid, her eyes darting from side to side as she moved toward Michigan Street, the large iron tipped scythe dragging behind her. She didn't pay any mind to any humans who would come in passing, her work for the evening done and she desired nothing more than a shower to remove the residue of the undead scum she had slaughtered off of her flesh. She blinked twice as she walked, her footsteps slowing as she stepped into the dimly lit street, her eyes adjusting to the lights and she jerked her head as she heard footsteps coming from the North.

"Who is it?" She called calmly, her body taking the instant defensive stance as she had come to know so well. Her clothing was not what many would call appropriate for battle, but she preferred to look her best in all that she did; be it battle or otherwise. Her heels clicked as she shifted her position, following the sound as it came closer; unsure if the owner of the sound was friend or foe.

[Eric Easy E Pelka]

Jack Hathaway
They chanted as they walked in a tight group down the Dan Ryan Expressway. What used to be used to transport multitudes of people at great speeds now was a graveyard, the final destination for so many countless souls. A coterie of 15 men chanted in their V formation around the outside of the two armored vans. In all, Reverend Hathaway allowed thirty five people to attend this scavenge in the South State Street Police Department. It was an unusual amount of people for a single expedition, but something here had caught the Reverend’s eye. He himself chose to join his perish on this mission trip.

A man in the front of the convoy held his hand up and stopped the group. Walking reluctantly to the edge of the freeway he pulled out a set of binoculars and peered across the city over Roosevelt Street. There in his site was a young man collapsed on the ground, screaming at the top of his lungs. He was injured. Could he be their newest brother of God, or just another wounded gazelle to feed off of?

The Reverend was informed of the sighting. Though he felt the trip was of great importance, he could not bring himself to ignore the cries of the suffering. The convoy switched its course and exited onto Union Ave. The group had picked up its speed. Jack Hathaway closed his eyes and dozed off proud of his work, unconcerned with whether the stranger lived or died.

[Kristen Caselnova]

"I fucking knew it," she mumbled under her breath.

She cocked her gun and started firing across the way she and her new found strange stalker had come, hoping to keep her new crowd of followers at bay. "Uh, Hi. My name is Mia. I'm a doctor, and unfortunately you've hurt your ankle. I don't know that the people that are following us are exactly sane, and for that matter, among the living. So I need you to wrap your arms around my neck, I'm going to pull you up and we need to hop as fast as we can out of the way. Do you got that?" She could see the pain and anguish written across his face and instantly felt bad for him. But she was also glad to know that she wasn't alone anymore, and was finally needed again.

With what little energy she had, she pulled the man to his feet only to find that he had opened his mouth to scream in agony. Mia quickly wrapped her hand over his mouth, "I know this hurts like a bitch, but if you want to make it out of this alive, you need to keep quiet." After helping him gain some sort of balance, she quickly swung his arm around her neck, and wrapped her right arm around his waist. Gripping his wrist, she pulled as tightly as she could to take the pressure off of his abused ankle and started to sprint for the other side of the bridge. She pulled his body closer, ignoring the stench of rotten garbage seeping through his pores and pulled his body under the passage way. Quickly she found the back way inside of the shoe department and kicked the door in. She began searching for a place to hide her crippled friend, and found a place in the stock room. She rested him up against some boxes that had not been opened yet and propped his ankle up with some socks that were laying around. "Now listen, I need you to be as quiet as possible while I check out and make sure that we'll be safe here for a while." With that being said, she left her new acquaintance in the room and shut the door. She ran back to the door that she kicked in and found a chair to jam under the door handle. Mia began checking the windows for signs of the crazy's and sighed.

"This is a lot harder to do when you really do have to care for someone," she thought. She returned back to the stock room and glanced at her fallen comrade. He was a rugged looking fellow. Something about him she couldn't quite put her finger on, but she had known him from somewhere. But where, she thought. He was gripping his leg with a great deal of pain. Immediately she dropped to her knees and started rummaging through her duffle bag. She began to pull out supplies when she stopped and looked at him. "Sorry for the terrible introduction earlier. I'm Doctor Isebella Mia Costenelli. You can just call me Mia. It looks like you did some pretty good damage to your ankle. Let me take a look at it. I'm sorry I didn't catch your name. And you are..."

[dhusted34]

"C'mon Alex, she's talking to you. Quit thinking about yourself and your stupid leg for five seconds. Give this girl a chance. She did just save your life," he was saying to himself in his head. A minute had to have passed before he finally gave his response.

"I'm sorry, my name is Alex. If you want you can call me Clean. That's what my, well...that's what this guy used to call me," and he suddenly realized how little of human relationships he had had in the past twelve years. "Anyways, how's my ankle look? What's the damage?"

Mia only looked at him and shrugged, and then started to wrap his ankle in some cloth that had been laying on floor next to a few shoe boxes. Something else must to have been on her mind. Alex began to look around at all of the boxes and he felt like this day was just going to keep getting better and better. First a gourmet meal, and now a fresh pair of Nikes. Maybe he would also take a nice pair of leather shoes and try to fence them to one of the damn monsters. For how dumb they were, he could probably run the price really high.

Alex chuckled to himself and Mia shot a glance at him full of surprise. He could tell that she hadn't seen a happy face or a smile since all of this had started. She finished field dressing his ankle and motioned for him to get up and try to walk on it. He tried, but he still could not put any wait on it, and he felt helpless as he fell to the ground again. But Mia was there for the second time, helping him up. What a good smell she had to her, and he was suddenly embarrassed as he realized how pathetic he most likely looked and smelled.

"You wouldn't happen to have a shower and a razor in that bag of yours would you?" He looked at her and waited for her to laugh and knew instantly that he had sounded like a complete moron. "Sorry, I was absent the day they taught humor. Needless to say, I failed the test," he said as he tried to regain himself. She chuckled and smiled, and it made him feel good that he was also contributing to their two man team.

"We're going to have try and find you a crutch so that you can support yourself, okay," she asked in a very professional way. The woman rose to her feet and began to rummage around the stock room. She exited through a door and Alex could hear her moving things around out in the main store. All of a sudden the noise stopped, and he had a feeling that she had found something that she didn't like.

"Mia?" He called out in as cool of a tone as possible.

"Alex, you might want to come out here and see something. That is, if you don't mind crawling some," she answered softly.

Alex rolled off of his bench again and began to slide his way over to the doorway. When he got through the door he knew something was wrong. This woman that had just saved his life and risked her own in an extreme display of courage was staring out the window with a blank face. He didn't know if he wanted to see, so he only asked, "What is it?"