They were slow... except for when food was readily available for the taking. Then their meager, sloppy steps turned into a limp trot. These brainless beings that craved just for the flesh of those still living, simply bumbling about and bumping into each other that range from a slow commute to something similar to a Black Friday sale. Then again, stuff like that didn't happen anymore. Not after they took over. It started off slow, only a couple of cases here and there in a little town. The thing with any kind of sickness, though, is that it catches on quick. Especially in the grimes of the United States, where a mix of people mix with the wrong people and end up mixed up in the chaos of being a live sacrifice. From there, it spread quickly. No matter how much bacteria-killing product was used, nothing was developed to completely fight against a toxic bite from these things that managed to bring themselves into existence. The city seemed quiet now. Compared to the sounds of the street, people, vendors, and sirens that went on so long ago, it was deathly quiet. A hard thing to cope with after getting used to falling asleep to those noises growing up. The only sound was usually a distant murmur of shuffling footsteps as a herd of those things would make their way through, still on the search for something else to fill their belly. As they moved from place to place, tripping along without anymore care as to who they were anymore, they were watched. Their existence a bane to the brown-green hues that traced their movements when they came too close to the closed off building. Movements becoming slow and thoughtful as she waited for the beings to move on. Then, in the morning when dawn started to rise up, the chill will wake her up. She will sit on the ledge of the building, contemplating whether or not today was the day that she would finally make up her mind and jump. Maybe today was the day she'd finally find someone else that was still alive in all of this. Maybe she will finally hear someone else's voice instead of listening to her own every lonely morning. There was always that inkling of a possibility that there could finally be someone else on the other side of the portable CB radio. The contemplating finished, the woman deciding to carry on instead of just ending it. She sighed deeply as she brought the CB radio to life, bringing it up to speak into it as she gazed across the horizon for some kind of movement that wasn't the sluggish steps of the dead. Her hair whipped around her face in a vortex of dish-water blonde that she ignored to concentrate of speaking over the wind. "Attention," she would always start. "This is Kilo-Uniform, Yankee-Uniform. This is an attempt to reach out to... to anyone that's still alive. I am in a safe area and will keep you safe. If there is anyone left in the city that needs to reach out, follow the voice until you see the green flag. I will be waiting." She set the CB down and watched it for a few moments, keeping it on for the time being. Maybe someone would finally reply today, but she assumed it wouldn't. "I'm waking up, To ash and dust. I wipe my brow, And I sweat my rust. I'm breathing in, The chemicals..." she began, continuing on and raising her voice to let it echo off the empty buildings. The only time she made enough noise to gain some type of attention. Once she was done, she listened as her echos faded away and her voice disappeared for the day. The echo confused and jostled the undead in such a silent city, but she hoped that someone living would be able to follow it. Her gaze went up to the flag, hanging limp from the lack of breeze to support it. Looks like another lonely day. she thought as she reached up to turn off the CB radio until tomorrow.