Apocalyptic (for unicornx)

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Aria, Sep 11, 2013.

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  1. August Lockwood
    Age- 18
    Gender- male
    Appearance- He's 5'11", blonde haired and grey eyed, his nails are bitten extremely short and he always appears a bit disheveled
    Other- August was in his freshman year of college and was living with his 23 year old sister when the apocalypse began. He rarely got out much when things were normal due to his anxiety disorder, but when the zombie infection started spreading worldwide he stopped leaving the house. His sister kept them alive, boarding up their doors and windows, finding weapons and food and eventually becoming a near expert at killing zombies. However, she left to find more water one day and didn't return. August soon ran out of food too (at this point in the story he's been out of the house for a day, is just learning about how bad things really are and is hoping to find his sister but is focusing more on finding a safe place for living people, visiting schools and other public buildings in the hopes of finding someone)

    The doors to the run-down apartment complex slammed shut, August's weight immediately falling back against them to hold them shut as a small mob of zombies threw themselves at it on the other side. He was out of breath, just as much from fear as from running down the street when a group of the undead caught his scent and took chase, and he knew he had to keep moving but for a moment he just slumped over and clenched his eyes closed. The young male had been in an almost constant state of panic and confusion for the past 24 hours, shocked from being suddenly thrown into the chaos of the outside world. He hadn't eaten for several days and had recently run out of water; all he had left was the pistol clutched tightly in his hand, a few bullets still inside. Not that it had proven to be very useful so far considering he barely knew how to shoot. Once when his sister had rushed through the front door of their house with several zombies close at her heels he'd fired in a haze of adrenaline, killing only one while she took care of the others. It had been over in seconds- that was the extent of his experience with guns.

    So no, he thought hysterically, the gun wouldn't save him. The zombies were still pounding at the door, relentless, and he fumbled with the lock as he forced it completely before rushing without any forethought into nearby stairwell, closing yet another door that separated the zombies outside from him- and found the stairs above him crowded with more zombies. Great, he thought, mouth going dry, heart thundering in his chest as he froze in fear. He was definitely about to die now.
  2. Robin Alvarez
    Age: 20
    Appearance: Robin stands towering at 5'10" and weighs approximately 134 pounds. She possesses a pair of icy blue eyes and is blessed with unblemished tan complexion (her skin seems to work differently even under the circumstances). Being the type who unfortunately could care less about physical appearances, Robin leaves her previously bob cut hair grow to a heavy length, nearly covering her bum. It's always either oily and flat or dry and untamable.
    Other- Robin is a withdrawn, self-destructive adolescent with unexpected violent tendencies. Her outer appearance gives off an air of mystery, somehow convincing a passable look of innocence (in comparison to what's left of humanity), yet she is anything but. She has a sense of purpose, willing to sacrifice her well-being for the sake of others but sadly prefers to work alone. Which almost always triggers an unhealthy rivalry between her and a companion due to a misconception. She's had 'some' experiences with weapons - mostly pistols and sharp objects but acts rather indecisive when under pressure so it's not always a good idea to rely on her.


    She couldn't think of a better way to celebrate a few months of survival outside the zombie infested world than to survive another night. Of course, seeing just how far she'd gotten to reach her current state it was safe to assume that there were many, many close calls. Especially when she'd stupidly agree to 'team up' with another pitiful, desperate soul in the spur of the moment. Not that she really regret having to work in a group once in a while, so long as it was only a temporary thing. Sure, she managed to explore beyond what was to be expected in the past and thanks to the people she met, she became much more in control of herself. But the problem with people was not because as a huge group, the chances of attracting unwanted awareness was skyrocket high, but overtime, they tend to get attached. Overly attached. Somewhat clingy and possessive. And that alone drove her away, fearing others depending on her on an intense level. 'Never again,' she thought to herself whilst lying atop a smelly bed inside a rundown apartment complex she found two days prior. 'No more. That was the last one.' She never asked for any of this, really. She never wanted to fight against the zombies for her life in the first place. If necessary (and I mean she's done it several times) she'd willingly throw herself into the fray and risk getting mauled. Life was too short, and she didn't care whether she died today or the next day or maybe even in a year. Yet, in spite her decisions Robin couldn't seem to let life go. She was still trying to hold on to the future that may never surface.
    ". . . ."
    Lifting both arms above her, Robin mindlessly reached out up at the ceiling as if to grab an imaginary object. She clenched and unclenched her fists, repeating it for over three minutes until an unexpected thud from somewhere inside the complex caused her to react almost instantaneously. She sat up, fingers laced around her trusty switchblade and quietly hopped off the bed to avoid making a ruckus.
    '. . . What was that noise? Nobody could've entered the building after I patrolled last night.' Robin thought confusingly, heading towards the source of the sound in precaution. She knew better than to act without knowing exactly what she was dealing with. A mistake normal people tend to make, most of the times.
    The room she stayed at for the night was at the very top floor, nearly safe from the terrors of the zombies. After spending half an hour shooting, struggling and fending the infected off, Robin decided she was never too safe to let her guard down.
    But. . .
    Where in the world did those new zombies come from?!
    How was it possible to encounter more in less than a few days?
    She swiftly turned on her heels, instinctively throwing herself against the wall to avoid being seen by three zombies roaming in one place, blocking her only exit. ". . . ." Someone entered the premises, that for sure, she was certain of. Whoever that was attracted an army of zombies her way, only making her job that much harder.
    Robin gulped nervously, feeling her anxiety kicking in. She needed to get out of there fast! But. . . Oh course! The basement. Possibly the stupidest idea yet her only chance to make a getaway.
    She ran left, preparing her switchblade for any surprise attacks and frequently made quick stops when spotting zombies. "Damn," she hissed, coming to a dead end. Two zombies emerged from across the narrow hallway and one slumped on the floor, blocking her pathway. With her energy close to completely being drained, Robin didn't have the will nor strength to fight back. But the fact that she made eye contact with one of the confused zombies, Robin subconsciously reached down for the pistol tucked inside her jeans, brought it up towards its direction and pulled the trigger.

    Robin rarely resort to guns unless desperate times called for desperate measures. The shot would've only caused more attraction and she knew her life would only end there.
    So due to putting a bullet on a zombie's forehead, Robin was now sprinting down the staircase away from a crowd of zombies that heard the gunshot. Great. Things could only go downhill from there. And it did. . . unfortunately.

    Colliding against a wrecked wooden door covered in blood, Robin carelessly kicked at it multiple times before finally hurling herself inside an area she didn't bother checking during her patrols. It appeared to be the stairwells. ". . . No." Subconsciously taking a step back, Robin stare shockingly at an unfamiliar figure slumped nearby, his back facing her. She prepared her pistol, steading it before her as she slowly approached the figure. Unsure of whether it was human or not. ". . . . Are you bitten?" Not 'who are you?' or even 'how did you get here' but that strange question she didn't think she'd one day hear herself asking.
  3. August shakily held the gun in front of himself and fired once, twice, shooting the zombie nearest to him but as it fell to the ground with its brains blown out through the back of its head another three turned towards him and lumbered forwards. There were at least a dozen of the undead grouped together on the stairs above him, most of whom had noticed him when he'd fired his gun, and there was no way he could kill them all. He could exit the stairwell the way he'd come, but then what was he supposed to do? If the zombies he'd locked outside hadn't gotten in now they would soon; he had nowhere to go. In his panic he didn't even notice the sound of gunfire or the door behind him opening, a young woman crashing inside. His attention didn't turn to her until she spoke and he turned, expression that of a deer caught in the headlights of a car. "Wha-...bitten?" He repeated blankly, eyes soon widening in understanding. "No; I haven't been bitten. But they're..I can't-" He sputtered hurriedly, words jumbled and nonsensical. If the zombies had just been curious before, they were bloodthirsty now, all the noise and movement drawing them closer and they rushed the two survivors with a speed that had surprised August when he'd encountered his first zombies; the way they stumbled, bodies decaying, some of them missing limbs, he would have expected it to be easy to outrun them, but once something caught their attention they moved at a startling speed. He stood helpless beside the newly arrived stranger, time seeming to slow down as he breathed in terrified gasps, face ashen.
  4. At the sound of multiple firing shots, Robin mentally thanked herself for keeping a moderate amount of distance away from the suspicious stranger. She wasn't certain whether or not he was already affected by the infectious zombies, or if he only had the appearance of a human but was indeed a zombie. But just as she raised her weapon to eye level, ready to pounce at him at any given time, Robin abruptly paused when he unexpectedly spoke and as if to finally convince her that he was indeed human, she lowered her pistol. The sound of persistent pounding only caused her further alarm. ". . . I see," was all she could say over the anguish and moaning coming from the other side of the door. She whirled around her bloody surroundings, taking in everything all at once before quickly thinking of a way to get out of the stairwells alive. Time was ticking and it had no plans on waiting for her decisions. What was she to do now that another survivor crossed paths with her? Still rather skeptic, Robin pressed her lips in a thin line. "I-" However, before she had the chance to utter another word, dozens of murderous zombies emerged at an untraceable speed, as though lured by the scent of human flesh.
    At the filthy sight unfolding before her, Robin flinched, cursing inwardly. ". . . . ." She struggled to maintain a strong front, her energy draining and stamina going extremely low. Quite faintly, Robin noticed the stranger standing beside her, wondering if he had been there the whole time. 'My brain needs to regenerate. I need more sleep. . .' Just as she drifted off to dreamland, the gruesome cry of a bloody zombie immediately startled her, unprepared by an attack.
    Robin took a step back, shielding her face with both arms as one of the zombies tried clawing at her flesh. Fighting back, she quickly brought the muzzle of the gun close to the back of the zombie's head. A heavy feeling washed over her as she pulled the trigger. Thank God for good reflexes or she would've been toast right there on the spot. But that wasn't enough to save her from the rest of the zombies who followed second after the first. She took a sharp intake of breath, desperately trying to pull herself together. "I need you to back me up. You can use a gun, right?" She eyed hesitantly at the gun in his hand. "If not. . .here." She tossed him her used switchblade she kept at all times. It was the first she ever lent it to anyone. Spotting another one coming fast their way, she grabbed his wrist and roughly pulled him towards the opposite direction. "Run. Run. Run. Just keep running." No matter where they'd turn, a zombie or two would be there, waiting.
  5. Everything was happening too fast; August hadn't been able to stop fighting or running, doing anything he could to fend off zombies as he navigated through the city, for the past 24 hours. Adrenaline wouldn't be enough to keep him going for much longer, made clear by the way he trembled but otherwise stood still, gaze flicking rapidly from one thing to another. The nearest zombie lunged for the woman beside him but before he could even attempt to react she'd pushed it off her, lifting the gun in her hands and shooting it with more expertise than he'd managed the few times he'd operated one. She didn't take much time to recover, turning to him and eyeing his gun apprehensively as she spoke. Before the fear-stricken male could tell her that yes, he knew how to use a gun, but barely, she'd shoved a knife into his hands. "Uh...back you up?" He sputtered, eyes almost comically widened. He doubted she would want him as backup; she seemed put together and capable where August was barely competent enough to keep himself alive. How was he supposed to work with someone else?

    Just don't screw anything up, he told himself inwardly. Follow this woman until they got somewhere safe and don't do anything to ruin whatever plan of action she had, don't get her killed. He fumbled with his gun, storing it in the holster around his waist and clutching the knife he'd been given, white-knuckled grip making his fingers ache though he barely noticed that. A hand around his wrist and he was being dragged away from the small horde, stumbling behind the woman. "Run where?!" Everywhere he looked was another zombie and he didn't know if the ones outside had broken down the doors yet. He jabbed the knife with poor precision at any zombies close enough to bite him, just pushing them off and slowing them down more often than he actually killed them. They turned a corner and a zombie was almost on top of August, drawing a startled shout from him as he aimed the knife at one of its eyes, hitting with barely enough force to bring it down. They were at the end of a corridor that otherwise seemed safe, the sounds of the countless undead they'd left behind still reaching his ears as he continued to run. "How do we get out of here? Is there.." He gasped, shaking his head and trying to calm down enough to think, all of his concentration focused on continuing to move, not let anxiety overtake him and leave him frozen in fear. "Is there a back way out or something?"He had no idea how infested the building might be with zombies, or if any back exits were safe enough for them to use.
  6. { So sorry for late response, I am overwhelmed by school lately. }

    She was acting out impulsively rather than carefully considering her actions again, which really wasn't all that surprising. Without giving it a second thought or had the decency to consult with the stranger about her 'plan', Robin recklessly dragged him into with whatever trap she knew would befall her. She should've just left him alone in the fray and made a run for it while she still had the chance to do so, but instead, she had him tagging along. But there was nothing more she could do than moving on, continue to survive this gruesome day to the end and then mentally scold herself for breaking her own promise of never getting another companion.
    ". . . ."
    Robin breathed unevenly as she forced her legs to pick up pace, subconsciously tightening her grip around the male's wrist with more zombies hot on their trail. Always one to put the safety of others first, Robin prepared to draw her pistol out when a zombie lung for the stranger, eager to tear his flesh apart. But thankfully he was able to gouge one of its rotten eyes, slowing it down. She hummed thoughtfully by the realization that the knife her father had given her long before the surge of the infection, was of use to someone else other than herself. It almost brought a happy smile to her dirt stained face. Following her own instructions and running towards the safest part of the building (which happened to be the end of a corridor), Robin's speed only increased and not once did she slowed down.
    She glanced around briefly, taking the stranger's question into account. Not even bothering to double-take and ensure all possible exits were really blocked, panic and paranoia begun to eat Robin up, for her hope of survival was wearing thin. "I-I don't know," she muttered honestly, her voice steady yet confused. "The building was close to being empty last night. . . .H-How did you get in in the first place?" She still wasn't certain whether to trust this man or not, but in spite of her suspicions, Robin never let his wrist go in fear of getting him devoured. ". . . . ." Still running in circles, Robin was determine to get out of the premises alive and hopefully get the chance to interrogate the newfound survivor. She didn't sense the aura of a potentially dangerous terrorist or a kill-crazed psychopath who, after the uproar, lost touch with reality, still, but something about him was off. 'He looks innocent yet oblivious, so oblivious that he isn't even aware of what's actually happening out there.' She wondered if such a person even existed, sheltered and protected away from the clutches of the infected.
    Maybe that was why she couldn't let him go yet, because she wanted to help him. Maybe. . .
    ". . . ."
    They'd turn left, then right, then left again, and then straight towards another set of bloody dripping stairs. At the same moment, a female zombie with only one greenish, orange arm stumbled upon the steps painlessly, unaware of the duo's presence until the sound of a trigger filled in the empty void. Robin wasted no time to dwell on their possible deaths and quickly rid off the beast. "I hate blood," she mumbled all of a sudden, mostly to herself. "The horrid scent and stickiness of it gives me a migraine."
  7. ((It's fine, I understand))

    At the clear confusion and stress in the other's voice, August's eyes widened, gut clenching with even more fear if that was even possible. She had to know a way out of here, or have somewhere safe to go; any plan of hers was fine as long as she was calmer than him and in control of the situation. If she was just as afraid as he was, they were probably doomed, considering how useless he was at surviving. His sister had kept him completely sheltered from the worst of the chaos that had broken out, and he didn't feel at all prepared to survive without her protection now. Raking a hand through his unkempt and slightly too long hair, he answered in a tone far too breathless and panicked for his liking, "The front door. I...the front door to the building was open but it didn't look like there were a lot of zombies around so I figured the inside was safe, and I came in and locked the door behind me." Voice lowering and head ducking sheepishly, he added, "I didn't bar it or put anything in front of it though. The zombies that followed me here might have broken it down by now." Once more silence descended between the two of them, the only sounds their harsh breathing as they ran and the distant sounds of zombies shuffling about and groaning. Despite the fact that this woman had just admitted to not really knowing of a safe way out of the mess they were in, he continued to let her lead, running alongside her around several turns before they reached another staircase, this one not as overrun by zombies than the first set of stairs he'd encountered.
    A single undead woman blundered about uselessly on the stairs, the sight of her with her missing arm and decaying flesh causing August to turn away; he had no desire to see how her insides had decomposed along with the rest of her when the woman beside him shot her. The brief ringing in his ears caused by the gunshot covered the sick thump of the zombie's body hitting the ground and landing on the stairs at an awkward angle. At the other's voice he turned, tilting his head quizzically. She sounded absentminded, like she might just be thinking aloud, something he did often when he was feeling flustered or anxious, but still he offered a response. "Do you have a headache now? We should- we should get out of here. Find a safer place or something..one where there isn't so much blood." He was just starting to catch his breath, panic dying down though adrenaline still rushed through him, keeping him wound-up and nervous. Without the desperate need to just escape immediately overwhelming him, all he could do was wonder what would happen next, his brain supplying him with plenty of detailed scenarios where they attempted to leave the building and he died, or this stranger he was suddenly trying to escape with died, or one of them got bitten and had to be put down like a rabid dog before they turned. There it was- the uncontrollable rush of terror returned, and he carried on speaking before he could get a response. "Now, we..we have to leave right now. Were you staying here? Is there anyplace that's safe in this building? We should get out and go to the hospital...maybe there are people there..you're right, it does smell awful. The blood, I mean, and all the zombie intestine stuff. God, why is the smell so strong?" He groaned, face ashen as he paced fitfully, body tense.
  8. Robin was almost always never prepared for last minute decision makings or having to take lead right on the spot, especially when her injuries and the feeling of paranoia refuse to cooperate with her. It wasn't as though she was completely vulnerable to unexpected surprises, but the past few months of struggling to get by each day had caused her to become weaker and weaker by the minute. Wariness and the lack of sleep nearly took a toll on her. Everything she'd do or thought of now only felt like another heavy weight on her shoulder. Recently, she's had more dark circles under her droopy, bloodshot eyes than she usually would. Because of situations similar to the one she was currently in, Robin never did find enough time to simply relax, let her guard down for a few minutes and sleep soundly. The thought was just too good to be true.
    All in all, she looked mentally unstable and possibly worse than the flesh eating monsters they were running away from.
    Deeply preoccupied in her blank thoughts, Robin barely caught what the stranger said as they continued to ascend the bloodstained stairs, which led to the top floor she spent the night at. Fortunately, it was empty. "I cleaned this place up," she said dryly, indirectly answering his other question. "There were fifteen of them crawling here the first night I came. Two in the room I stayed in, five by the staircase, and the other eight loitering in different sections of the hallway," she suddenly paused, abruptly halting on her tracks in the middle of their run as if she'd just realized something very important. ". . . The window." She nodded twice to confirm the potentially successful ideas swirling through her mind, a hopeful grin playing at her lips.
    Without waiting for a response, Robin once more yanked the stranger behind, leading him towards the dead silent hallway and barged into a large white room at the very back. There was nothing special or breathtaking about the room inside, although Robin did put enough effort into tidying the flesh stench place a bit, nothing about it stood out. The horrifying memories of its former tenants' tragic fate still lingered against the wall and if she focused her ears, she could almost hear the faint sound of moaning from downstairs. ". . . ."
    But if there was anything that caught her attention, distracting her from the dull and traumatizing room, it was most definitely the glass window before her. She remembered spotting it just outside the building, gazing at the window in fascination. Maybe that was the reason she choose to stay at the very top floor, not because she wanted to ensure safety for herself, but to keep a watchful eye on the zombies outside. The view was perfect. . . so perfect she could jump.
    "There's a large public swimming pool just below this floor that I didn't get a chance to patrol at," Robin explained, letting the stranger's wrist go. She turned to the window, her back facing him. Momentarily she stood still, motionless. Then she lightly shook her head. "No. . . Perhaps we should take a different approach. . ."
    #8 unicornx, Sep 19, 2013
    Last edited: Sep 19, 2013
  9. Before August could completely lose it and become useless, defenseless for all intents and purposes, the other spoke up in response to his hysterical outburst. He focused on the woman, listening intently, not noticing how she looked as exhausted and panicked as he did, maybe more so and instead concentrating on the fact that she looked competent and about his sister's age; she had to be capable of saving them. Her sudden smile convinced him of this.

    Before he knew it, he was once more being dragged along by this stranger, stumbling down a hallway and bursting into a large room. It was thankfully empty, fairly clean and quieter than any place he'd been in since leaving his house, and part of him- okay, all of him- wanted to just curl up on the floor, knees hugged to his chest, and drown out the rest of the world. He wanted to bask in the not-quite-silence of the room for a week at least; maybe then his heartbeat would slow down to a semi normal rate and he'd be able to breathe again. He forced himself to keep moving, lead by the female still grasping his wrist to a window that had surprisingly remained intact and unvandalized. August immediately looked down, not with unease that they were several stories off the ground. Still, if what she said was true..."I don't think there are any different approaches." He pointed out, wiping his sweaty palms on his now torn and blood stained shirt and drawing a shaky breath. Heights were on the long list of things he feared with an overwhelming intensity, and jumping out the window in the hopes that there would be a pool deep enough to keep them from dying was a ridiculous risk. It was better than staying in a building overrun by zombies, though. And maybe when they got out this woman could help him get to a hospital, or a school or some other public building that might have been set up as a shelter for survivors. His sister had never told him what the government and the city officials were doing about this..situation, but there had to be somewhere survivors had gathered under the protection of someone in authority. He reminded himself of this adamantly, trying to ignore the doubts in his mind. Some part of him was starting to wonder if there even was a government or a voice of authority anymore; after all, if there was a safe place for survivors, wouldn't this woman standing beside him be there? And wouldn't he have found help by now? He quelled these thoughts as quickly as he could, focusing on the task at hand- they had to jump out a window and hope there was actually a pool to land it, hope that the water wasn't too shallow or drained completely, and that zombies didn't fall upon them immediately.
  10. Indecisive, Robin struggled a few relatively draggy minutes trying to suggest a much more realistic and safer plan for them to quickly escape the surrounded premises. She couldn't just not consider her original idea deliberately, noting the stranger's bold comment of how it probably was their only chance of survival. ". . . . ." The faint, unfamiliar sound of a ticking clock pounded against the back of her head, as if there really was a clock stuck inside. Electricity and all possible connections to the world were cut off immediately two weeks after half the nation was infected. Cellphones, tablets, laptops and other electronic devices were rendered useless as people struggled to communicate with loved ones, especially on that day of infamy. Everything she believed would remain the same changed, nothing ever felt like what it was prior that day. God. Robin could never get the horrific image of her poor mother being devoured alive by an unidentified zombie. . . . There was just a limit of far how a person could take until something finally snapped them from all the self-control they've muster.
    ". . . . "
    Exhausted, wary, and slightly absentminded, Robin stood still in front of the clear glass window in awful silence, unable to hear the moaning and groans drawing closer and closer. She was so out of it, deeply preoccupied and distracted that for the first time since surviving on her own, Robin missed the anxious cry of an infuriated zombie. The numb feeling on her mind blocked all the possible noises coming just from outside the large, empty room. In her past observations and research regarding 'zombie studies', after severely wounding a 5'2" tall female zombie, Robin initiated a two long week experiment on the bloody monster. It happened once after encountering her second group of survivors, and thankfully, the leader owned a small underground hideout where she secretly brought the zombie back for a quick inspection. Her plan went splendidly well, she managed to learn two things about these creatures, besides instantly infecting those whom they bite. Based on personal observations, Robin figured out that zombies were a little more than mindless beasts, as they lack human intelligence. Also, the fact that they don't need nutrients once dead, confused Robin. Because in her eyes, the zombies ate humans for fun. ". . . ." As her mind continued to drift off, ignoring all sounds coming from inside and outside the room, Robin briefly closed her eyes to see a white light. I'm ready to leave this place with a happy note-
    Stunned blue eyes flew open almost instantaneously as the door to the room was suddenly knocked down, two putrid men shuffled in rapidly towards their direction as if possessed. A screech followed after another group of decaying zombies stumbled behind in curiosity, their blood dripping mouths quivering at the sight of two delicious humans.

    Finally coming into decision of where she'd go from there, forced to act for someone else other than her own safety, Robin quickly pulled out her pistol, shot the first zombie she spotted and thoughtlessly aimed for the stranger with full force. . . leaping forward into the glass window with him under her chest.
  11. The female was taking much too long to respond for August's liking, looking absorbed in thought for several minutes too long. August fidgeted, glancing out the window with her and feeling his stomach drop at just the sight of the distance they'd fall from if they chose to jump out. The longer he looked, the weaker his legs felt and if not for the fact that it was their only escape, he would have rejected the idea as too risky, not to mention terrifying. Part of him was still tempted to do that, even knowing there wasn't any other way out unless they wanted to navigate their way through another mob of zombies. The longer they looked out the window in contemplative silence, the more he wanted to reject the plan, and the woman beside him wasn't saying anything to support his sentiment that they had no other possible escape routes, wasn't reassuring herself or him that it wasn't too far a drop, her quietness unnerving him. He was about to speak up again, maybe babble hysterically once more, when he heard the distant sound of groaning, not nearly distant enough for comfort, and steadily growing closer. "We need to-" Suddenly the doors burst open and across the room stood several zombies, advancing at a stumbling but steady rate and the other finally did something, shooting at the nearest of them. The young male didn't have time to assist her in defending them or react at all before her body barreled into his, both of them colliding into the glass of the window with shocking force- and then breaking through, shards of glass falling all around them as they fell.

    August's heart felt like it was going to explode out of his chest if it beat any faster and he could taste the meager contents of his stomach in the back of his throat as they fell at a horrifyingly fast rate. He couldn't make a sound or try to brace himself for the impact that was sure to come any second now, paralyzed with shock and fear, and as he looked down he saw the murky water of a pool coming closer and closer. He landed with a splash, feeling more like he'd just collided with concrete than water, and then he was submerged, hearing nothing but a dull roaring in his ears and unable to see anything through the grimy water. Stupidly he tried to gasp in a breath and got a mouthful of the water for his efforts, the surprise of having his lungs filled with liquid instead of air spurring him to act, legs kicking until he breached the surface. Coughing violently, he looked around frantically for the other, gaze falling on a trio of zombies that were wandering aimlessly outside the fenced in pool. He could only hope there weren't too many others nearby, and that the fence around the pool was secure enough to protect them until they got out of the water and collected themselves.
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