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CHARACTER INDEX
OOC THREAD

Season 1: Culling

Before

“I’ve never broken down before. I took pride in that. You win, you fight and you lose, that simple; no in between. I never looked down the road because there’s nothing to see, zero visibility. I don’t want to be who I am now, I want to be who I was. Before the pills. I never thought I was safe because when you’re head is down, that’s when you lose. Most guys run from confrontation because they never want the answer to the inevitable question. Am I one of the weak or am I one of the strong? Everyday is a fucking war. Someone trying to take something from me, you know? Challenge me. Dominate me. These motherfuckers don’t know who you are! It’s the consistency, the fucking fire in your heart. Who wants to be normal? No ones fucking normal. Don’t be afraid of greatness. Bet on yourself. This is your fucking moment so take it, that’s what I tell everyone. Its a rare privilege, so enjoy it. Because this is going to end. It’ll fucking end Doc, it always does. Men like me don’t take pills. Great men, we take chances. And I know…I know the highs are a little higher, the lows are a little lower, but I…I..I can cope with that, I have a handle of that, always do. But to coast right in the middle? Nah man. That’s the death of me. No Bueno.”

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Now

“Frank!....FRANK!!”


“What? What?! Lower your fucking voice!” Frank responded to the desperate teenager, a boy called DJ from the restaurant district. Urgently the kid ran towards the desk, pushing aside everything that covered the city map. He pushed his index finger down on a location, north of the police station they were taking refuge in – Houston Midwest Patrol Station.


“Right here! Like fifty, maybe sixty of them. It’s a shit ton of them man and they’re coming our way,” the kid informed, his breathing distressed by the elevated pulse of his heart. He seemed cold, shivering in weather that was near-damn perfect. Frank cursed under his own breath, looking down at the map then out of the window to see if he could spot them. “How far out Jay?”


“I don’t know man, twenty, maybe thirty,” he responded, a look of indecisiveness just plastered on his face. The kid looked around wondrously over the map, eyes starting to water as if he was going to start crying. He was seventeen maybe eighteen years old, parents nowhere to be found and had just returned from a scouting mission. Acting, Frank took the boy by the collar and pushed him towards the wall, away from the doorframe of the office where the rest of the group could see. “Calm the fuck down!” Frank uttered between his teeth. “You’re going to scare the shit out of all these people, so shut the fuck up and keep your voice down. Don’t you fucking cry!”


Sniffing away the fear that crept, DJ shook his head in agreement. He looked out the doorway to see the rest of their group looking his way. Giving them a gentle minimalistic smile, he returned to the map. “Now think. Twenty? Thirty what? Miles, yards?”


“Miles. They’re coming straight from downtown. I spotted them when I uhh….I uhh…when I found the store. It was empty though so we headed back quick. I don’t even know if Tyler made it out, I didn’t see him. We were supposed to meet at that pet place, but he never showed. I waited ten minutes!”


“You fucking left Tyler?! What the fuck were you thinking? Goddammit!” Frank scratched the back of his head, thinking about their next step as he walked around the table nervously. The horde was about twenty miles out, that gave them a fair amount of time before they came into view. They were completely out of water and were down to a pair of canned beans, so supplies were needed immediately. Waiting the horde out would ensure their survival – that is if all went well. If the horde stopped their forward motion and surrounded the department, getting supplies would be near damn impossible. The crew would die of dehydration or starvation – especially the older folk.


Speaking of the devil, “What’s going on here? Is everyone okay?” Ms. Walker interrupted Frank’s thought process by barging in the room with that smug look on her ragged face. The old woman was one of those Bridgeland money folks from Cypress – you know who I’m talking about. Anyhow, she stepped into the room disrespectfully, looking about the policeman’s operation. Her pale skin lighting up the room.


“Ms. Walker, please, just…just go back, were okay,” Frank stated, hand up near the elderly woman’s chest. He tried to block her from entering the room any further, calling forth Father Walters to pull the leash around the damn woman’s neck. The look she gave Frank as the priest pulled her away was surely the demon possessing her wicked soul. Her eyes seemed to go black, which frightened even the toughest of men. “Cunt,” Frank whispered to himself as he returned to the map. He analyzed the situation again and knew he had to decide quickly before the dawn started to cast the day away. It was four forty-five post meridiem, but time ticked like blazes. “Alright, listen. You and I are going to find Tyler, clean up your fucking mess. If you fuck this up any more DJ, if you FUCK this up, I’ll kill you. You hear? I’ll fucking kill you! Once we walk out of this office you stay shut, keep those lips closed. They don’t need to know.” Frank shook off the raging heat that slithered up his spine, warmed up his jaw and shot out of the office, looking at the group he oversaw.


“Jay and I are going on a run. Were going to meet up with Tyler and come back with food and water. You all stay put, do NOT open this door for anyone but us. You already know the rules. Officer Autumn is in charge until we get back. Keep an eye out, but don’t get seen. If someone tries to get in…you kill them.”

 
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Before...

Carmella combs the hair of a very dashing and vibrant looking young fellow as he stares back at her in the mirror with half award eyes. Freshly woke and groggy as the young lad fades in and out of consciousness. By all intents the two looked like your average white sibling duo, but really they were more Latin soul than anything.

"Mira! You need to wake up an' keep ya head still SJ. I ain't wranglin' your mane for hair all mornin."

It was a strange odditiy, to know and speak fluent Spanish as half Hispanic and yet possess the southern catered acccent, but for the Simpson kids, it was commonplace. SJ wipes his eyes as his pupils lock in on Carmella's. "Yew think Dad will get a new mommy?" SJ mutters. Mel's demeanor shifted from pushy sibling to serious oriented, as she placed the comb on the porcelain sink and kneeled to her brother. "Why on Earth would you say that?" SJ remarks "He talks to ladies alotta times and--" Carmella abruptly shakes her brother into focus, placing her words over his. "SJ... daddy is gonna talk to people okay? Boys, girls, all of em. There will NEVER be anyone to take Madre's place you hear me? She'll always be your momma...and I'll always be your sister...hear me? Even if daddy meets a girl and he has a crush on her, she won't be your momma. Caprendè?" SJ nods and returns a simple yes. Carmella then smiles "Now say it in Spanish :)" and begins to tickle SJ as he chuckles and replies "Sì" and she finishes combing his hair and getting him ready for school. She remembers the promise she made her mother, seeing her so frail and bony...death centimeters from her body waiting to claim her. The feel of her cold shaking hand envelopes in Mel's warm and soft ones. It seems like forever ago yet also yesterday. Mel saw SJ off to the school bus as he started his first day of 2nd Grade. Holding back tears at the emotional impact of her brother asking such questions and not knowing the cognizant love of his mother. Had she known what was coming in the looming weeks, she too would've held SJ's hand in an embrace so loving it would remain with him forever. That was one memory.



__________________________

Now.

Reagan High School (Known as Heights High School): Midtown Houston

The distant rumblings of the outside school yards and courts surround the peripheral hearing of an isolated Carmella as she leans against a wall while sitting on a stairwell. The fading daylight flickers through in a pale gold aura shining off her face. Without looking down she turns her cell phone back off. Everyday for a month and a half. Her mind wasn't so impulsed like most. In the immediate realization that this catastrophe was endgame level changing. She cut her phone off, and every day at 5PM she would turn it back on for 20 minutes, in hopes for voicemails, texts, anything. But she got nothing. Her brother was 7 and while he had a tablet he had no phone, and her dad probably became overwhelmed with worry and had no mind to conserve battery. Phone was probably dead within the first 6 hours of all this shit. She looked through the stairwell window into the yards below. Watching vessels of what was once her classmates and peers. There was Jessica Fowler, and Horacio Lewis, and even her favorite teacher, Mr. Knowles. He taught Math. And Mel's Freshman year when her mom passed, he was a real support system for her, as he was an avid soccer fan and his daughter played with her.

A sudden breach of sound causes Mel to jerk her head towards the stairwell doors below, seeing Bryan the football star enter in with a concerned look on his face.
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"Hey...still no one?" Mel shook her head. Bryan's face showed remorse as he tried to muster up what to say. Mel simply got up and proceeded up the stairs to the roof. The remaining students and faculty were slim, out of the 2300 students, about 170 were left with only a dozen faculty. They were pushed to the second and third floors of the school after the outbreak, with a lot of people being bitten, attacked...and eaten by those rabid people. They blocked the stairwells off with tables and desks from the first to second floor, granting them classrooms for lodging and the science classes with sinks and residue showers for hygiene. Food was grabbed from vending and drink machines in the second and third floors, and some nifty ingenuity involving gym rope and Mel's knowledge of chemistry caused them to burn a hole of acid from the second to first floor right over the cafeteria in order to drop in and get real food, water, and sustenance, and get back up. The acid took no time to create, but over 4-5 days to start eating the floor fibers down to the first floor. And Mel of course the blonde preppy jock would be all but invisible to those who cared not to venture past her looks had not been for this horrid terror that struck Houston. She was actually kinda smart. Who knew?

"I just came to tell you that Mr. Johnson may have gotten those old walkies to work, we could get a signal and start seeing if anyone can hear us!" Bryan tells Mel as she ascends the steps from the third floor to the roof, where she's essentially moved the entire interior of her chemistry class outside on top of the building. "That's good to hear, I hope it works. Just keep me posted okay?" Before she can rush off, Bryan stops her with his deepened voice. "Mel! Hey...if you need to talk I'm here, all of us are. We're right downstairs." Mel nods, repressing the inner turmoil and darts up the stairs, opening the steel door to the humidity and heat of Houston. The scowl of sick and rabid people below flood the air as Mel makes it a mission not to look down. Instead, she approaches a large black table with beakers and open drawers with various compounds and elements. She takes out a beaker with a murky reddish, pasty, pale pink liquid in it. She stirs it around and puts on a safety mask as she starts a Bunsen burner and placed the liquid on. While it heats, she grabs her soccer ball beside the door and starts to dribble a bit, kicking it back and forth on the roof to pass her time. She's been stuck at this school for 6 weeks almost. 6 weeks of not knowing if her brother or father were safe and alive. They could be looking for her, waiting for her...they could think she's dead. Or... for a moment Mel stops. The thought sinks in. They could be dead. She begins to ponder about a life without her total family. First it was her mom...cancer. Now this foul sickness or whatever the Hell it is has claimed her peers and maybe even the rest of her family.

Moments of time go by as she snaps out of her trance, realizing she was letting the liquid over-vaporize. She rushes to the beaker and slips on some oven mitts and picks up the now gas inside the glass. She closed her eyes and prays to the heavens as her heartbeat rises. With a courageous exhale she walks over to the edge of the roof and looks in the ice white eyes of one of her peers, and with increased breathing and an "I'm sorry!", Mel spikes the beaker down into the crowd of lifeless sick ones, as the gas rises and clouds a small number of them. She watched with baited breath as the gas swirls around them. "Come on..." she hopes and hopes, but nothing. She lowers her head in despair, sulking over to her backpack and taking out her notebook and scratching another off the list.

POSSIBLE CROWD SUBDUE:

HALLUCINOGEN (X)
ITCHING POWDER (X)
SMOKE BOMB (X)
SLEEPING GAS (X)
FLASHBANG
EAR BURST?
MOLOTOV

The makeshift sleep gas seemed to have no effect either, like the rest before it. She crossed it off the list. Not like she had help... seeing as how the entire science department was either dead or missing. The look on Mr. Harris face when he seen a student bite him...and then to Mel's shock...he himself died from trauma...or blood loss...or infection hell she didn't know. But she did know one thing. Mr. Harris woke back up. And she was looking at him at this very moment, his eyes white and dead, but body still functioning. It made her recall the horrifying moment of everyone rushing into the gym or outside to the military roaming the streets. She opened her notebook and looked at the bottom of the list, Molotov. No way she'd consider making that. They're still people down there, no matter how screwed up they look. She went back to the table and prepped the Magnesium for the night, as it is the metal that burns the brightest in a pure white hot light. Mel solidified her status as a bad ass genuius when she suggested the idea to faculty to use burning Magnesium as a signal from the roof to anyone that can see, as Midtown is the epicenter of the city so people from miles can see the bright light even if just a flicker from super far away. She placed the metal on the table and sat down, watching the sun fall; looking up at the sky, facing God.

"Please...just let my Hermano and Padre be aight...please."

Tears form.

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Avery Cortez | Reese Thompson – Fire Station 68, Southwest side of Houston​


Billowing steam could practically be seen coming out of Avery’s ears as she glared at Reese, who stood by the door of their upstairs sleeping area. “Reese you can’t be that stupid! We’ve been shot at countless times now, and you still want to go back out there?! You and I both worked when Harvey hit; do you remember when stupid people shot at us then and you wanted to stay in? Now it’s three times as worse and you want to go back out there?” Avery’s mind could not wrap around her partner’s mentality. For several days in a row, it seemed as if the idiots of Houston were all on the same page. Shooting at people trying to help in order to loot their possessions. “Reese, if there are actual people needing help out there, they aren’t going to come out easily. Can you imagine how many people have tried to rob them?”


”You know, for someone who is supposed to be a wise and senior leader, you sure do panic a lot. I know people are out there begging for help, and I’m going to help them, with or without you.”


The woman’s eyes opened wide as Reese began to move around her and walk out the door, not giving her any time to make a game plan and go with him. He was much quicker than she thought too. Before she knew it, he had hopped into one of the emergency trucks and left. It had been six days since everything seemed to have gone south in Houston, which had driven many criminals to act out in a worse manner than when Hurricane Harvey hit. Avery stood there in the room, her anger quickly turning into regret as she listened to the truck leave the garage and down the driveway.

____________​


The few sunrays that were able to break in through the boarded windows hit Avery’s arms, breaking her out of her reverie. Whenever they began to break through meant that either the sun was coming up or the sun was going down. It had been several weeks since Reese had left. In those weeks, Avery had spent her time boarding up the fire station and helping out those few that she and Reese had managed to bring in for shelter. The number of dead had increasing tremendously, which had thrown the survivors in Fire Station 68 to fortify their shelter.


”Ma’am?” Avery looked up quickly, seeing a young boy at the door with a worried look on his face. Reese and Avery had saved him and his mom from being surrounded by a group of dead, he had bonded with Reese the most and ever since he disappeared, the young boy had shut down. ”When is Reese going to come back?”


Avery stood up, having been sitting on her partner’s bed while in thought. “Hey buddy. I don’t want to lie to you… I don’t know when he’s coming back. I’m thinking he might have found his family and is focusing on keeping them safe. I’m sure we’ll run into him one day.” The woman tried to smile, in order to reassure the young boy, but all she could do was curl up one side of her lip in a half-assed crooked smile.


“Is everything okay down there? Nobody opened the garage right?” ”Nope. It’s been closed all day… but our water is running low now, mom said.” Avery sighed as she heard out the young boy, walking over to his and holding his hand, tugging him out of the room and downstairs to where everyone else was at. Since Reese’s departure and the increase in dead, and looters, Avery had two of the garage doors fortified as well, to only have one working garage door in which they came in and out of. Fortunately, as well, they already had a steel fence around the half acre of property. The survivors had made sure to build up a second fencing right behind the steel fence, adding a few feet of height. The past five weeks had been busy, and Avery surely thought that those inside the fire station thought she was being too overprotective, but if they were to survive not only the dead, but the living as well, they needed to take their precautions.
 
Before

"Sam? Sammy? Sammy-sam-sam?" Marina, nudged Samudra's arms with her elbow, getting her attention as they sat on her bed, Hurricane Harvey raging outside. The storm was loud, unforgiving, and terrifying. Marina and Samudra could hear the sounds of palm trees being ripped out of the ground by their roots, and the sound of debris hitting the sides of their house was concerning.

"What, Marina?" Sam snapped, but Marina knew her sister was just stressed, and didn't flinch at her tone. Sam sighed, feeling bad about snapping. Marina was the type of person who was always positive, her very presence could light up the room.

"I just wanted to say that I love you. I'm sure everyone- even the sea turtles, and the sharks, and that one pelican you like so much that stands on the pier waiting for you to feed it." Marina gave a bright and contagious smile. Sam couldn't help but contract it, a crooked smile of her own forming. Marina giggled and hugged Sam tight.

"Okay okay, I'm happy now. I'm sure the animals are safe. What I'm more worried about is our safety. It sounds like the apocalypse out there! We just watched our neighbor's house collapse, and the debris is hitting us right now! I just...I wish we'd evacuated. I can't believe the storm got this bad." She replied to Marina, venting what was making her so cranky. Their grandparents had been on vacation in Colorado when Harvey hit. Sam and Marina had been stuck with the task of prepping for the hurricane, getting food and water, making sure important documents were stored in the fire box, unplugging electrical appliances, and boarding up all but one of the windows on their house.

"I know, me neither..." Marina echoed Samudra's worry, petting the dog, Buster, as he came up to them for comfort, "This isn't the apocalypse though, so I'm sure we'll be okay."

"Yeah," Samudra nodded, scratching under Buster's chin, "We'll be fine. I love you too, by the way."

___________________________________________________________________________________

Now

Samudra frowned as she remembered the last time she saw her sister. She'd lost Marina during the hurricane because their house had collapsed on top of them, and Marina had been trapped under heavy debris, her neck broken.

At least she died instantly. there was only an instant of pain for her. And she doesn't have to deal with this bullshit. The actual apocalypse, she thought, gravel and glass crunching under her feet and she walked down an alleyway in the city. She'd made it to uptown Houston a couple of days ago, having driven most of the way from Port Aransas, and then walking the rest. For the past week, Samudra had been hunkering down in various homes across Houston.

The past six weeks had been the longest six weeks of her life. She had managed to keep her grandparents safe for about two weeks while all hell was breaking loose, but neither of them could run very fast, and both of them got bitten. Samudra had put them down. Buster had survived with ease- he was small, and quick on his feet, able to outrun even a border collie. The papillon poked his head out of the gap in the zipper of Sam's bag, his large ears perked. He leaned forwards, licking the back of Sam's neck affectionately, as if sensing her frustration.

"Hey Bussy, you doin' okay back there?" She spoke quietly, cringing when the dog licked the inside of her ear. "Ew..." She muttered, wiping the saliva. She was glad to at least have Buster left. He was a smart dog and seemed to listen when she talked to him as if he were a person- and he was quiet. Buster rarely barked, only to alert Sam if something were coming.

Sam stopped at the end of the alleyway, peeking out to scope the area, her fingers wrapping around the hilt of her barbed wire-wrapped bat. pieces of flesh and a bits of brain were stuck in the wire, and it was drenched in dried blood. Sam spotted several walkers outside the alley, swarming around what was probably a fresh body about 60 feet down the street.

Gross. At least he's serving as a good distraction for those freaks of nature. Samudra dashed in the opposite direction of where the zombies were feeding and ducked behind a burnt car parked on the curb, staying as quiet as possible. She felt Buster duck back into her backpack, probably hiding. She could feel the small dog shaking. Samudra made another quick dash behind a partially collapsed, blood-spattered pile of sandbags, her nerves beginning to get to her. She knew she was spending too much time in the open, but she needed to find shelter. Or a ladder to a rooftop, a manhole- anything to get out of the open.

A car would be fantastic, Samudra thought, crawling quietly behind a partially collapsed wall of sandbags, spotting a shop with unbroken windows across the street that she could try to duck into.

Samudra sighed, trying to let her nerves go, "God I fucking hate Houston. If it's not traffic straight outta hell, it's the goddamn undead holdin' the place up." She looked around to the feast behind her, glad to see that none of them had noticed her. She gathered up all the courage she had, and made the dash across the street to the shop, relieved to find that it was unlocked. She let herself in, huffing from the run. She rolled the blinds closed, and peeked through them to see if any of them had noticed her making the run.
 
Before...
Isn't it funny? Looking back at where you once were to where you are now? Seeing every mistake you made and then knowing what you could have done to fix, well hindsight is always twenty fucking twenty. I used to be among the best of the best, cream of the crop and all that bullshit they tell you once the six months of training ends. They tell you alot of lies in the military. Too much black and white not enough grey. Its you're good and they're bad, live or die. But the biggest lie is that you're doing it 'For the good of your country'. What the fuck do you think the other side is doing it for? To kill and maim for the sheer hell of it?

Well fuck them and fuck that, I served my country, took a bullet, got sent home and forgotten about. I mean sure, I got the benefits, the compensation and the medals. But at the end of the day, the brass sweeps us under the carpet like we're dust. You would think they would have a little gratitude that we willingly wade into the fray, doing things that would make most men break. Fuck em, so long as my brothers fight and die for them, we'll always be disposable assets.

America, well fuck, almost as bad as Australia, worse in some ways. But I didn't care, it was a fresh start and I was a young, somewhat attractive man. I got a job at a bar, met my wife to be and had a family, life was good for a while, then the trainwreck called my life derailed again.

Now...
Edward took another sip from his flask, feeling the whiskey burn his throat as he swallowed the alcohol. "What I wouldn't do for a little ice." He remarked as he put the lid back on it and slid it back into his pocket. He stood on a tall apartment complex, a pair of binoculars to his eyes and watched as a few walkers fed on the carcass of what appeared to be a young woman. 'Should have worked on her cardio a little more.' He thought grimly as he turned his attention to other places, spying for other survivors, making sure that any that he spotted werent being pursued by the strange phenomenon that was the undead.

He looked around a little more before tucking his binos into another pocket inside his jacket and walked back to the ladder he had used to get to the roof in the first place, whistling The Gambler under his breath as he went. As he got there he looked down to see half a dozen walkers clawing at the ladder, whatever else had happened to the poor fuckers, at least their motor functions were as rotten as their skin.

He briefly considered killing them before deciding against it, instead walking back to where he was standing before and eyeing a light pole some three metres from the roof. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He muttered in a mantra before taking a few steps back, he made sure all his weapons were secure before running as fast as he could and leaping off the roof and onto the pole, wrapping his arms and legs around it in a deathgrip, "Thankyou pole..." he whispered tenderly before kissing it softly and sliding down to the ground, landing with a small thud as his feet hit the solid cement.

He took a deep breath and started whistling again, this time it was Gangnam style. He pulled his bow off of his back and an arrow on the string, ready in case he had to ruin someones day, "Lets see if I can Legolas my way to somewhere that isn't here." Edward said, looking over his shoulder to where the walkers were still trying to climb the ladder, not noticing that their quarry had escaped already.

"A yohoho and a bottle of fuck that..." He muttered as he jogged away, the focus of his attention being a school a few klicks away, being the size it was there were probably survivors and if not, at least somewhere with plenty of hiding spots.
 
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Before

The sounds of small talk and ascending planes were the only thing heard by Su-rin as she walked across Incheon Airport, the largest South Korea had to offer. It was finally time for her to pursue her career in pyschology in Houston, Texas. A large city in the United States, a place Su-rin had merely dreamed of, but now it was all reality. She smiled as she put her suitcase on the loading dock before walking over to the gate and handing the personnel her ticket. They let her through to the airplane. She got on, thinking it was all gonna be okay.

After

Su-rin was roaming the streets early in the morning. It was only six in the morning when she decided she'd go on an exploring trip to try and find some other survivors or new supplies. She had a bottle of water strapped to her hip using a ziptie and had her knife hanging in a holster on her side.

She took a look around and sighed seeing everywhere she went was full of the monsters that were known as walkers. She sneaked past a crowd into an alleyway to check her chances. She knew that running over the main road would just as well be a death sentence. The top of the buildings around her was basically impossible as she saw no easy way up without making noise.

She settled on using the alleyways to get around. She would probably encounter a few but nothing she couldn't handle herself. As she wandered through the alleyways, she was looking for shops with a way in. Eventually, she found one but first went to the exit of the alleyway next to it. She noticed the blinds were down, which could be a good sign. She also noticed the walkers in front so she knew it was dangerous to enter the shop from the front.

She walked around back again and found the emergency exit at the back. However she took her rifle in hand to shoot if what was in there were walkers. She slowly opened the door and stepped in slowly to make as little noise as possible. When she was in, she closed the door again and slowly began walking through with her rifle ready.

However as she wandered further into the store, she saw someone at the front. She sighed putting her weapon back onto her back and approaching the person slowly.
"Hey you there. How'd you get in here? And did you find anything here yet?"
She still had her hand ready next to her knife just in case.
"Are you also looking for supplies in this shop? If so, we could group up"
There was a clear hint of Australian in her accent but also the hint of her being from an Asian country.

interactions: Samudra @Mars Walker
 
Samudra's body tensed and her blood ran a little cold when she heard an unfamiliar voice come from behind her. She gripped the handle of her bat and turned around, raising it over her shoulder, her eyes showing that she was not afraid to whack the intruder across the face. The woman approached her slowly, her hand resting near her knife, also ready for a possible scuffle. Samudra picked up on her accent, wondering where she was from, as it sounded more like a mix of different accents than just one particular one. Wrapping her fingers tightly around the base of the bat, Samudra's expression hardened again, her eyes wide and trained on the girl. Buster poked his head up out of her backpack, growling quietly at the newcomer.

"I waltzed in the front door. I haven't found anything here yet- haven't really looked." Samudra took one step closer, not daring to lower her bat. The last time she decided to trust someone, they tried to push her into a hoard of drooling monsters. Samudra had learned from that experience, and decided to stay on guard around strangers, especially ones that wanted to group up.

This is stranger danger on an apocalyptic level. People are greedy as fuck. I wish it were different, but....Samudra narrowed her eyes and spoke again, "I came in here for shelter, mostly. If you wanna group up, you're gonna have to figure a way to prove that I can trust you. And no quick movements, keep in mind that I have a barbed-wire bat, and I am a hot-blooded Texan who will not hesitate to hit a home run with your head, okay?" Samudra hated to be so abrasive, it generally wasn't in her nature to be like this. But, tough circumstance call for tough choices.

Interactions: Su-Rin @MisterGrumpyLoli
 
The roaring of winds with a mist of evaporated water surrounds the entire realm known as Houston. The dusky grey skies and shifting humidity pushes back at Earth with force. Swirls and rumbles of the city begin to echo out to all that were in the surrounding areas. What 95% of victims didn't kniow was that Hurricane Harvey came two days early, as specialists picked up on the intensity and mysteriously amplifying effect that the storm had in an integral time which could not be sourced by meteorologists and their predictions that came before. And now it would seem that the entire city was on alert, including Carmella who watched from a school window as the presence of nature's fury and God came inland on Houston. bodies zipped by her with impact, the walking hormones rushing past her looking for some semblance of security. Mel's arm is grabbed by Mr. Harris, her AP Physics teacher as he directs her to get to the hallways and get safe. She runs by Mr. Knowles who asks if she's okay, a nod and rampant steps later she found herself among the 2000+ students all being supervised by faculty to lower themselves to lockers, as kids kneeled in shock to the incoming crisis. School sirens caters to Mel's immediate hearing, as she spots her best friend Mari, running and lowering herself by her side. Mari hugs Mel. "I thoght this was supposed to hit Sunday!!! What the hell??" Mel replies "Thursdays never were my best days..." trying to add levity to the horror. It was this moment Carmella realized her mortality truly for the first time. How she and humans were all so small to the splendor of the universe and its adverse effects. Mari grabs Mel's hand in hers, as the loud ramblings of students begin to turn to chatter and sobs. The brown haired balding principal, Mr. Shaffer walks the halls to direct the peace.

Shaffer: "Everyone! Stay low and stay tight! Do NOT rise or leave your position without permission, and anything you need you come to me, a teacher, or a school officer! Things are going to be okay!"

Mel's pocket vibrates, as her father's name pops up and she rushes to answer it. "DADDY? Hello? Te escucharme!? Dad!!?"
Phone: Hello? Melly? Are-- kay? Sw-- t? Listen, I-- to get-- then I-- Stay lo-- eep to the-- n my wa--

The phone cuts in and out as Mel struggles to make out her father's words, but the bad signal mixed with the sound of the chaos around her made it futile to hear. "Shit." she murmurs to herself, as she peeked her head around to waves of teens with heads lowered, some praying, some cursing, some joking and laughing even. And then the grim came, and the light of life would be sapped along with it. The winds forced a window at the top of the mid stairwell to breach open behind Mel, it's cracked pierce causing numerous heads to look. The broken shards started to blast inward towards the lockers, glass spears that rushed lke bullets at the kids, and for one shard.. Mel saw coming right for her face. It was so fast. A flash of life for Mel, and all she'd become up to that moment. Death a foot away from her now as the shard was closing in.

And then Mari sticks her head up, a curious reaction to the sound of a broken window. Her head replacing the destination intended for the glass. Mel watches as Mari's head jerks, and her grip in Mel's hand swiftly goes absent.

That's another memory. More like conscious nightmare.

_____________________________
Now
_____________________________

Tears restrain Mel's eyesight as she holds them back, with Mari's backpack on her back sitting in the back of the room listening to a meeting update from some of the faculty. Since all this has went down, from the 160 or so student left the remaining faculty decided to break kids into four groups to make it more manageable in times of council, chores,and duties. The Texans, Rockets, Astros, and Oilers, named after the four biggest sports franchises Houtson's ever had. Each group had different races, gender, and grades to promote diversity, unity, and teamwork. Every now and then, when there was assured security, the four groups would have games like charades & fun quizzes to keep students sane and cope with all this mess. Mel liked and feigned the idea of teachers still trying to be adults and teach them after all this, but she knew they were scared like the rest of them. that they were doing the best they can. Mel was in the Rockets group, watching Mrs. Stein and Mr. Law talk about food and rationing updates, encouraging to share with others who are lacking. Mr. Law was a fit looking African American teacher, a constant crush by students. Mrs. Stein was a portly skinny woman, but very young looking as well. They cover security detail in checking for the SMALLEST sign of breach by draggers (coined by Mel in which people start using to identify the sick and infected). She was tuned out most of the repetitive update meeting until Mr. Law called her name. "Mel deserves to be reconized for her ingenuity and outside the box thinking and studies, thinking of the idea to burn Magnesium as a flare beacon to get us some help.. so, round of applause everyone!"

The group starts clapping, with Bryan nodding and smiling at her. Mel blushes and and side glances to divert all the attention being put on her. "OH! And Mari wants to see you." He says as her heart drops at the mention of her friend's name. The faculty dismisses the meeting and Mel instantly darts up and heads tot he chemisty class, which she emptied and moved to the roof but was now a makeshift infirmary. Inside were a couple of teachers looking after sick or injured students. Some asthmetic kid, a girl with a sprained ankle, some jock with a need for Prozac, and in the back of the room, a girl on a custom made gurney of fire blankets and cotton pillows, a bandage wrapped around her head and gauze over her left eye. Her revealed eye locking on Mel and smiling. "Sup, skank." "Sup, slut" Mel returned, waling over and sitting beside her. "Still got my backpack on huh? Copycat." Mel then replies "Yeah well my backpack is on the 1st floor full of draggers...wanna go fetch it for me?" They exchange wit for some time and crack on the lighter things to take their mids away from this terror. A Hurricane with no relief, and then an Outbreak with no rescue. She felt like she was in some bad horror tv show pitch that AMC would pick up. They look out of the window as the sun begins to fall, Mari's humor fading for a second. "Carmella. Our parents are coming for us. And then me, you, my mom and dad, your dad, and SJ can head to Mexico like we talked about. I bet no draggers there. We're gonna be okay." Mel smiles and her tears come back, only showing Mari the innermost of her true self. "I know, thanks slut." She says in her country but sharp accent.

Mari motions her head towards the window. "You should get to the roof Einstein, execute your ingenius plan so we can get evacuated already. Plus I heard Johnson may have gotten those walkies to work. Things are looking up for M&M, before you know it, Mari and Mel will be eating taquitas down the border and away from this mess." MEl grabs her hand and hugs her a good time before getting up and leaving the room to head to the roof. She passed by the large posterboard everyone signed for her, every student. Lower classmen who she'd never talk to, fellow classmates she had secret crushes on...Mel's heart warmed. Why couldn't people be this united without the call of a catastrophe? Why let borders and boundaries define them? Is it really that important if, every time humans are faced with their mortality it all goes away and they band together? Mel hits the roof where a number of students are kicking back eating chips, and some teachers drink and talk to each other. They all lock on Mel as she grabs the Magnesium and starts to tape it to the edge of a rod, as it's not dark yet but soon. She takes the grill lighter in the table drawer and lights the Magnesium, as the super bright light pierces retina of all who looked at it, not knowing its superior luminosity.

"Hey! Don't look at it! It CAN damage the eyes close up."

Mel then sits by the table and reads a magazine as teachers and students alike come by and wish her a good job, expressing their thans and fondness. She smiled through it all, but deep down. She wanted this hell to be over. She wanted her dad, her brother. She wanted to cry to them, instead, she looked at a crowd below that were constant reminders of sickness, like her mother. Like the cancer. She just wanted liberation. Bryan comes outside with some of his friends, as he nods with a small smile her way.
 
Clint Salyers | Interstate 69, Southwest Houston
Clint stood silently on the Sam Houston Tollway, directly above Interstate 69. His right hand gripped a weighty, black camera, his left turning the zoom ring. He half clicked the shutter button and a small motor inside the lens shifted the camera's focus to bring clarity to the Clint's eyes. He found his subject and then fully clicked the same button to take a photo of what he was focused on. He pulled his eye away from the viewfinder, making sure the image was alright. He returned to peering through the glass, disturbed by what he beheld. It was getting worse, definitely more dangerous.

Down on the interstate bridge was an enormous horde of undead. He'd outrun the previous, but they'd been much fewer in number. However, the horde had gone from about fifty roamers to nearly three hundred.As the wind picked up, he could smell the stench of rotting flesh as the breeze wafted the undead's scent to him. He sighed, snapped a couple more pictures for better angles on the horde, then put the camera back into his small black backpack. The small bag was strapped onto his larger backpack.

He hefted the large military backpack onto his shoulders and moved until it sat comfortably, then let his arms rest at his side, though his right hand always hovered close to the glock 19 that was holstered on his hip and his left hand over the knife that was strapped on his opposite side. He hefted his shoulders and began a march down the tollway towards the next off-ramp into the city. He had to get up 69 before the herd did. Past the nearest exit on the interstate was completely block by a vehicle pileup, so the only way to go was off the interstate and into the city - and the roamers would gladly go into the city to find food.
 
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Before.....

A doctor seminar was behind held in Houston, Texas. Dayton and a few doctors and nurses from New Orleans were going to attend such an event. It was for their benefit, and it was mandatory. At the very least, the black male was sent from New Orleans East Hospital. During his flight, he met a familiar face, A nurse from the Children's Hospital back in New Orleans. They had met each other in the past, so it was not surprising that they stayed together.

After divorcing his ex-wife, Dayton had been single for quite some time. With this nurse, it was different. Maybe it was only one way, but he did feel something between them. Fortune and coincidence was on his side. She was too, checking in at the same hotel. It was more or less one of the hotels many doctors, paramedics, and or nurses were checking in at.

They were all going to attend the seminar the day after. Spending some time with the nurse - Alyssa Courteor, time passed by way too quick. Slightly hungover, he woke up in his bed. The only thing he could vaguely remember, was that they both ended up in their separate rooms. Nothing else happened, not yet, that is.

At the seminar, Dayton came across a few more familiar faces. This time, they were all colleagues or people from other, previous seminars. They all decided to hit a club during the night after the event. Even if Dayton was not so eager to join them, they were all able to persuade him. Little did he know, one of these particular familiar faces, had something against him.

They ended up in a fight at the club, but for unknown reasons. The bouncers threw them out, and that night, Dayton was quite pissed. Their arguement continued outside the club. Provoked and annoyed, he beat the crap out of this man, but left him on the ground, conscious with a few others. His night was over, but one more day remained in Houston, Texas.

Once again, Dayton woke up in his bed, his knuckles all bruised up and red. Turning the TV on, there was news about the hurricane. A sigh of worry escaped his lips, reminscing about the night before. Brushing it off, he cleaned himself up, took a shower, and figured he'd go and knock on that Alyssa's room.

The moment he opened up the door to his room, a few cops were standing before it. They were just about to knock on it. Confused and curious, Daytone merely gazed at them. They stared back, before confirming his name. He obliged, and confirmed that it was he, they were looking for.

It did not take long before he was brought to the police station. He was interrogated, and was shown picture of the man he fought the day before. As far as he could recall, he was fine and alive when he left him on the floor. However, the condition of his knuckles spoke for themself, and it did not sit well with the cops that were interrogating him.

The man was dead, and according to the pictures, and the coroner, he was beaten to death. Dayton was surprised, but he did not have a solid alibi. He explained more than once, but in the end, the only one who could help him against these oblivious cops were his lawyer and possibly a judge during a trial.

This was all unbelievable. They threw him in a cell. Dayton was to stay there until they got a solid handle on the case. He was the suspect and to them, they caught the right guy. What was going on?

---------------------

Now...

Six weeks. Six fucking weeks had gone by since the incident by the club. Since his life changed. Dayton was aggressive, but he was also a man of his word. The world outside had changed drastically as well. The hurricane came, and with it, something else did as well. The police station was dead, yes it was. Only a few remained, and why? He wasn't sure. Was it because of loyalty to their cause to protect and serve the citizens of Houston?

One of the cops - Frank, had kept him behind bars. For some damn reason, he was still locked up. However, thanks to Frank, he was regurarly updated about the world outside. Even if he hadn't seen the dead walking around, he knew that something was truly twisted outside.

At first it was just a few cops and Dayton at the police station, but overtime, others joined them as well. Staying inside, this seemed like a safe place for them. He could hear them talk, walk by the cells. It was as if Dayton did not exist. On occasion though, Father Walters visited him to talk about God and the bible.

It was nice to have someone to talk to, or so Dayton felt. Other than Frank, that is. This time around, he knocked on the bars. "Hello.. Frank!.. I know you can hear me.. Isn't it about time you let me out of this damn cell? How many times do I have to tell you that I can help out.."

"FRANK!.. Ya hear me? You'll have to release me eventually." Shaking the bars ever so greatly, Dayton wiped the sweat off of his forehead. He was in a blue suit. His jacket on the ground. Pacing around the cell, he was contemplating on using Father Walters to get out.

Dayton knew that some if not the majority of these people did not trust him. Being behind bars, he was considered a criminal, because thats where they belong. However, he was framed for the murder, but convincing anyone now about that would get him nowhere. "Fuck!" Cursing under his lips, he had to find a way out.
 
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rain3.jpg

Before:

"Hey, Dad, it's me. I know we haven't been on the best of...well, on terms for a while. It wasn't what I wanted. I uh, I guess I inherited your stubbornness huh? I...Dad I want to say I'm sorry that I was so...so angry. I never should have said those things, and I want to make it up to you. I saved the article in the paper about the culture center. Congrats on keeping the place open and running all these years. It deserved the recognition and the award. You deserved them, Dad.

Uhm, anyway, I really want to meet up here soon and talk. Maybe we can catch up and mend things? It would mean a lot to me if we could bury the tomahawk. Ugh, I'm sorry. Bad joke. Look, Dad, you know I'm not the best at these things. And, I know you aren't either. So, let's just try, okay? The news says we're gonna get hit pretty hard and I'd hate for the end of the world to come between us making amends. So...call me back, okay? I love you, Dad."


The phone beeped as the call ended, a young raven haired woman looking at her phone for a moment thoughtfully before glancing at her television set. The news was dark. A perfect storm brewing that was heading right towards them. She grabbed the remote and powered the television off before dropping the remote onto her coffee table. It was time to go to work and make the world a safer and better place. Maybe, just maybe, she could stave off the end of the world, one crook at a time. If only that had been the case.

Now:

Julianna sat at her desk, rapping her fingers against the desk rhythmically as the drama unfolded in the room nearby. DJ looked freaked. It was obvious he was trying to hide it, to maintain some semblance of composure. He had immediately moved into Frank's office, having been on a recon assignment. Thinking about it, someone was missing. Who was it? The young woman absentmindedly rose the pen to her lips, teeth nipping at the plastic as her mind concentrated briefly. Right, it was Tyler. This couldn't be good.

Rising from her seat, Julianna walked over to the door, leaning against the wall as Father Walter escorted the elderly woman out of the room. Ms. Walker rubbed her the wrong way from the moment she had arrived. There was a degree of expectancy and downright entitlement from her that just drove people crazy. Julianna included. Of course, she seemed to be genuinely concerned, whether in regards explicitly to herself or otherwise. The officer crossed her arms as she listened in, catching just the last bit before Frank came out of the room, clearly livid. When he spoke, the agitation was clear, but, he still spoke with that determined volume and tone that he usually did.

Frank was a well known member of the community, and a damn good police officer. That being said, she didn't know much about him as a person. After all, even though they worked in the same precinct, they hasn't interacted much. Still, they usually seemed to get along. Whether or not he was just being civil or actually respected her was a mystery. Regardless, Julianna trusted him to have her back and to be a good leader to these survivors, and as such, seldom made any vocal moves to oppose him. Unless of course, she genuinely believed in a better option. Frank declared her in charge, which was usually the case when he was out on assignment.

Julianna wasn't particularly fond of the spotlight, always seeing herself more as a cog than the overlying mechanism. Nonetheless, she would do her best to keep these people safe. As Frank was on his way out, she approached him, nodding her head towards him in a positive gesture.

"Be safe out there."

Unsure of anything else to say, she managed an assuring smile before making her way back towards the ridiculous commotion coming from the cells. The man whom had only just been shaking the bars was clearly in distress. Julianna looked at him for a moment before shaking her head, arms resting on her hips.

"You're being obnoxious again, Dayton. You know we can't let you out when we don't know for certain what happened. The last thing these people need right now is a potential threat among them. Officer Campos is presently indisposed. Now, if you really want to plead your case again, I'll spare a few minutes to hear you out."

The officer offered him a confident smirk as she turned the chair near the bars around, sitting down reverse while resting her arms on the back of the chair.

"So, tell me this, with all the uncertainties surrounding you, how can we accept the risk of allowing you to be free?"

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The sound of skin battering solid steel echoed easily through the silent police station. The group of survivors turned anxious as the everyday rhythm rung again - bringing light to the fear that brewed in every man walking this barbaric earth. Father Walters was the first to disclose the noise, aiming to make sense of their next plan of action. It was known to all - despite the lack of verifiable detail - that a man was held in captivity behind the iron locks of the station's jail cell. Neither officers would expose any criminal information about the delinquent, keeping Dayton Evan's file locked away from civilian hands. Only Father Walters, Officer Campos and Autumn could contact Mr. Evans. They fed him every morning at exactly six forty-five in the morning, again at noon and then at five in the afternoon. The routine was simple, one that the three peace keepers could follow. Father Walters' relationship with Dayton was one divined by God. Frank saw this as pointless as a man who kills was irredeemable in his eyes, but what did he know – he was just a guy.

Everyday for the past six weeks, Dayton Evans beat on the cell walls to gain attention. He begged to be released, promised to aid their survival against an outside world he’d never laid eyes on. To Frank, he was a liability. He was just another criminal that could not be trusted, a danger to the survivors. His ass was saved by the earth’s reckoning as he was to be transferred before everything went to shit. Fortunately for him, he found himself stuck with officers that cared enough to let him live – well…at least two who saw him more of a danger outside than inside the jail cell.

On his way out Frank turned to Dayton, a brow raised and eyes seemingly wanting to twitch. His expression changing from reasonably irritated to completely indignant. “You know what. Maybe I should let you out there. Have those things, those-“

“Walkers,” DJ decides to enter.

“….Walkers eat your fucking guts. You know what punk, you’re fucking lucky to be in here you hear me? You’re one of the fucking lucky ones. Being out there is fucking hell. You don’t know if you’ll get to live or just rot besides the Walkers. I don’t give a shit if Father up there told you God is watching you or protecting you. THAT’S SHIT! You stay in here and keep eating our fucking food and shut the fuck up for once yeah?” Frank knocked his fist on the cell, sending an even louder bang upstairs. He was trying – yet again – to instill fear into Dayton, keep him from complaining another day. What was so difficult to understand? It didn’t matter how many times he said he didn’t do it or that it wasn’t his fault, he was in the system. His entire life was transcript into a file that labeled him a murder and that’s all they had to go off on. Yes, his medical expertise could be found useful, but there had been no incidents where it was necessary.

Upon seeing Officer Autumn trail in his direction, he kept silent and moved out.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The city had been thrashed, businesses completely looted, cars in the middle of the road blocking any form of automotive transportation. Everything seemed to have rotted away, just like the people. Surrounding the station was close to clear, not many walkers had made it southbound – the ones that did were put down as quickly as they set foot in the neighborhood, the rest just carried on. Tyler – the individual they were heading out to rescue – oversaw recon. Despite not being all that trustworthy, everyone knew Tyler set out to survive. Anything that jeopardized that would be set ablaze, so he was good when it came to spotting the dead. DJ’s inability to bring him back would put the two men at odds – a conflicting engagement they would have to settle later.

“Where’d you last see him?”

“I already told you.”

“Tell me again!”

“We were on the street then we spotted the horde. I jumped and rushed back to randevu.”

“The dog store?”

“Yeah.”

A mile into their search, a couple of walkers appeared to cloud their path. Frank used his nightstick to take them out, pounding away at what was left of their skulls. The odor of the dead clouded the breathing air – like pollution, it caused coughing and gagging. The two men would cover their noses with the ends of their collars as they continued deeper into downtown. It wasn’t until they saw a bright light peering at the end of their peripherals that they stopped and turned.

“What the hell is that?” Frank questioned, his brow and eyes compressing to clear the vision of the mysterious luster. It seemed to be going on and off like a signal of distress. DJ looked at Frank for answers, even though he was the one that asked the question. In a normal world with normal people and normal circumstances, the policeman would have gone to clear the scene. Problem was, there wasn’t anything normal about this anymore. Frank looked at the light in question, an internal battle with floating decisions commenced in his head. He could go, take a simple look and fall back. He had a walkie and could contact Officer Autumn if he found anything suspicious or worthy of checking into – a failsafe. On the other hand, it could be a trap. People tended to lure the stupid into scenarios like this. Act like you need help then kill them to plunder what they had. He also had DJ with him, another liability.

“We keep moving. Whatever that is, it ain’t our problem, it ain't for us," Frank decided, keeping down the road they had already settled on. Their priority was finding Tyler, then finding food and water for the group - leaving that mission would be foolish, even if someone did need help.

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Shaking the cage he was inside, he finally caught someones attention. It was Autumn - another cop, just like Frank, but it was the latter that made the decision in the police department, or the group that stayed there. A wrong call in his opinion. It should have been someone else, or the lady before him.

They all had the wrong idea about him, but it was to be expected. The evidence was lined up against him. Dayton apparently beat someone to death, but he could remember it clear as the day, that it wasn't him. He was in a twisted situation he tried to understand. Reminscing about the event by the club over and over again. Pacing in his damn narrowed jail cell over and over again.

Sighing in frustration, he leaned against the wall, listening to the female cop. He found her words funny. It was hilarious. He was obnoxious? "Obnoxious?.. You've kept me here for what.. Two months? I mean. I can't even fucking tell.. I've been in this cell for something I did not do. I dont need to plead my case because it'll be the same story all over again."

"It's a waste of time..." His eyes darted over to Frank, who finally made his appearance. Dayton's demeanor did not change in the slightest. He was pissed and he did not even enjoy being around this freaking cop. It did not take long for the man in charge to speak, and in a rather pissed off way. Once again, it was the same. Threatening him and so on.

Once Frank was done, silence echoed throughout the area for a few seconds. Their conversation could clearly be heard by the rest of the group. Looking at Autumn, he moved his attention towards Frank. "So.. You're keeping me locked up, providing me with food to what end? It has been weeks. Where is the cavalry?!" Taking a step forward, he pointed towards the outside.

"They're not fucking coming. Frank! You know they aren't. But what will you do when you'll eventually have to leave this place? Leave me behind? If I'm such a fucking burden to you, why don't you just let me leave. Father Walters has told me whats out there. Whats walking among the living!"

Approaching, he grabbed the bars tightly with his hand. Frank did not care, and rather left. Not stopping, Dayton continued. "You know you'll have to let me out sooner or later. You can't keep me locked up here, you know it. I'm not the bad guy here!" Once Frank was gone, he was facing the floor. His forehead touching the bars. A sigh escaped his lips.

Nodding his head ever so slightly towards each side, his eyes landed on Autumn who witnessed it all. "You feel the same way as Frank don't ya? Keeping me here, probably gives you guys a sort of authority when it---" Letting go of the bars, he turned around, his back facing the female cop.

Walking towards the wall. "When it doesn't fucking exist anymore.."

@The Dapper Mog @-QT-
 
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Edward kept to the shadows and corners of the buildings, his eyes never stopping as he searched for both the living and the dead, trusting neither in this apocalypse. Twice he had to stop to dispatch the odd walker that got in his way, thanking the time he had spent on Archery as arrows went through necks and faces, often not bothering to finish off a walker that couldn't move, though also being very careful not to be anywhere near the face when he retrieved his arrows.

He avoided open areas and where he could, he travelled by roof top, avoiding walkers the easy way, though the living could easily shoot him if they had half a mind to. It was on these roof tops that he spotted a blinding white light on top of his objective, the school. "Well, thats either a creative trap to lure in morons, or an actual haven...ish place." He muttered to himself as he pulled his rifle off of his shoulder and used the scope to look at the roof, spotting a couple of what looked like kids, or at least younger adults, maybe 18 - 19 year olds from what he could tell. He placed his finger on his scopes adjuster and brought it up to 8x magnification, looking even closer at the people on the roof, also checking them for any weapons and to his surprise finding nothing that constituted as a major threat. "Yes... or no.... yes... or no. Eni meeni mini fuck it." He said to himself, slinging the rifle back over his shoulder and doubling his efforts to get to the school, deducing from the lack of weapons and their youth that even if they were a threat he could probably at least take two or three of them out before they could put him down.

As he approached the school he stopped one last time, again taking his rifle off of his shoulders and looking at the ground floor of the school and made his final decision that these kids were probably friendly, especially if they hadn't cleared out their own haven. With one final deep breath he turned his attention to the building itself, looking for hand holds, open windows (None of which he would be stupid enough to use, if he was going to die stupidly he would do it where he could see everything.) With his path to the roof top planned out he slung his rifle back over his shoulder and pulled out his flask, taking a quick sip before putting it back and making a mad dash towards the school, in case any idiot with a rifle was in the mood for target practice. He dodged the few walkers that shuffled towards him before jumping, putting his dominant foot on a window sill and using his momentum to carry him even higher to one of the few hand grips in reach, barely catching it by his fingertips when he heard a bang of skin to glass, making him look down to see a walker trying to reach up and grab his feet, which were dangling barely a foot out of reach.

"Sorry buddy, no Australian cuisine for you today." He said as he started the slow climb upwards, nearly falling several times as a handhold broke under his weight or his feet slipped from where they could find any sort of purchase. As he reached the top he could hear voices, but not what they were saying. With a muffled groan he pulled himself over the edge and rolled onto the roof, landing with a loud thud and a wheeze as he slightly winded himself with the landing, he looked up at the people on the roof and said loud enough for them to hear, "Gday, I'm... Friendly... Please... Don't... Kill... Me... Until... I... Catch... My... Breath again, Holy shit but that was one hell of a climb..."
 
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A couple of kids played with Mel's soccer ball as she continued to read a school magazine. She started to look at the different weird things school magazines had like those gifts and gadget that you could redeem with points. Every page reminded her of Shawn Jr. Scooter, Chemical Set, Cards... she released a deep sigh as a few of her classmates sat beside her, discussing how senior year obviously wasn't supposed to go like this, that the Hurricane ruined everything. Mel simply looked at them casual and responded. "It's temporary. Mr. Johnson said the military will be here any day now, were just holding out." One of the girl's speaks up, nodding her head over the balcony and down below.

"You think they're still....them?"

Mel shrugs. "I don't know, their eyes are white which means they are either blinded or in a slothic state. Either way we need help like they do." Bryan then enters the conversation, his face clearly showing his opposition. "Mel, you can't be serious. You've seen them! You were there when they overran the gym! All those people they--"

"Stop." Mel interjects. "They are infected with something, and maybe it's a mix of a nervous bacteria or neural seizing host but just because we ain't seen this before don't mean it's a damn plague or somethin!" Everyone else simply reads Mel's words and tries to keep up with her savvy. A few teachers that were on the roof started to listen in the debate, with one Mr. Law coming to join the conversation. Bryan speaks up as everyone starts to shift their attention on him. "Look, I watched my teammates get EATEN Carmella! EATEN! Not attacked, not assaulted, they were eaten. The fear that runs in ya when you see one face up, that adrenaline... you think that's your instincts tellin ya that they're still all there!? No. They're may be our friends , and teachers and coaches..but Mel, they're just crazy. Too crazy to be rationalized."

Mr. Law then looks at the scared looks on the students faces, and the fact that Bryan essentially brought the morale down, notably a disdained look on Mel's face. He speaks "Aight. Y'all wanna talk about this like adults? Then let's talk. Here's what we know, they're slow, they're stupid, and they want to bite. They go towards us in aggression but not towards anyone that's infected. Why? Because something is telling them we're different. And until we figure out what that is we cannot hope to treat them as equals. Sorry Mel. Yes I agree. They're our people, but they're possessed by somethin else right now." Mel shakes her head in disappointment at them casting the sick below off as untreatable. Even if that Is the case why not TRY to think of resolving? Mel gets up and storms off as the occupants call to her in sympathy. She darts towards the door, thinking about their words of harsh reality. What if SJ...or her dad...her blood starts to boil with repressed anger until she sees something weird upon the faltering daylight. She saw one from the ground below ... but it wasn't dragging along. It was running, and the closer it got, she started to make out a rifle and arrows, her heart sank. It wasn't but a dragger, it was a survivor. Mel shouts to the roof.

"HEY!!!! A SURVIVOR!!!"

The crowd darts towards the edge of the roof where she saw a man older than her rush past the horde below, through the courtyard and to the side of the building climbing windows. Draggers from inside and out the first floor claws for him, but he deftly slips away and climbs with a clumsy focus. Mr. Law instructs some students to go and get Mr. Johnson as they rush down the roof stairwell. He tells the rest to get back and stands in front of Mel to protect the students. Mel watches as the horde all turn their heads from the Magnesium light towards the commotion caused by the survivor. They start to move in unison towards the noise. Over 500 draggers. They watch as the man climbs up out of breath, almost falling to certain cannibal death. He huffs out words as Mr. Johnson, the school engineer bursts open the door with a 9mm handgun, much to the students shock. Mel had no idea teachers had even found weapons! All that was accounted for was an ax. Looking at the other students faces, they didn't know either. "Marcus, take his rifle." He tells Mr. Law as he takes the tired man's rifle, but they leave him the bow and arrow for some reason. Mel could see he didn't want to hurt anyone, a rifle with a scope he could've shot long before anyone knew he was around. Mel speaks up. "First the draggers, now survivors? You lied to us! Why didn't ya say we had guns? Huh!? Ay dios mio he just Spider-Manned up a wall in pretty sure he wants refuge not to terrorize." Mel then begins to help the man but is negated by Mr. Law who instead takes her place out of protectiveness. Mr. Johnson quickly replies Carmella and then shifts to the man. "Get inside, all you now! Mel. Take them inside. No back talk. Now. And you mister, who are ya? And where's our evacuation ?"

-> @RiddL
 
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Julianna watched Frank go off on Dayton. It wasn't surprising that he was as upset as he was. With everything going on, the world going to hell, and this apparent murderer constantly pressing them to let him free. Even if he wasn't actually guilty, which was improbable due to the evidence available and the inability to gather more, he could be just as untrustworthy as any stranger. Especially after they had him locked up like this. He may very well go off on a tangent and try to harm or hinder them just out of spite. Too many unknowns. The officer leaned forward on the chair slightly, resting her head on her arms briefly while glancing back to Dayton. He had managed to make a couple of valid points.

"Look, Dayton, the world as it was, it's basically gone. You're right. No cavalry is coming. Most of the rules don't matter anymore. But, let me tell you what does; order. If we're going to survive, we have to maintain at least some of our standards and maintain some semblance of order. Otherwise we're all doomed from the start."

A hand rose absently to brush a stray strand of dark hair from her face as she again sat upright.

"Maybe you're innocent. Maybe you will be of help. Maybe you'll even forgive us for being suspicious and have our backs. Or, maybe, you're guilty. Maybe you've killed someone in cold blood and would willingly do so again at the drop of a hat. I'm not one to take unnecessary risks, and until a situation arises in which your potential usefulness outweighs your potential threat, it has to stay this way."

A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she glanced back to the doorway, noting the collection of people out there, just trying to stay alive in this world gone mad. The undead weren't the only threat they faced. In her opinion, the dead were easy. They could always be trusted to act a particular way. Sure, they want to eat you, but, the living? They can betray your trust and act with a cunning the dead couldn't. It's people they should be afraid of.

Julianna's gaze returned to Dayton, her brown eyes scanning him.

"I know it doesn't matter, because my opinion accounts for very little, but, I don't think you are guilty of the crime that led you here. My instincts are pretty reliable. However, I see a look in your eyes that I just don't trust. Maybe you aren't a killer, but, everyone has the capacity..."

The woman rose from the chair, taking a step closer to the bars before continuing.

"...but, most people lack the guts. Tell me, Dayton; do you have that spark of madness that it takes to kill someone?"


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Edward looked at the man pointing a gun in his face and slowly held up his hands non threateningly. He moved carefully until he was on his feet and looked at the man in front of him, taking in his clothes and the way the gun shook in his hand. "Look, I'm going to say this nicely once, get the gun out of my face." He said, his body tensing slightly as the gun wavered in the hands of the scared and angry man.

The man just stepped a bit closer and threateningly put his finger on the trigger, Edward sighed and put his past experiences into action, grabbing the barrel of the gun and hitting the teachers wrist fast, pulling the firearm into his own hands until it was pointed back in the aggressors face.

"See, this is why we can't have nice things. I climb up after seeing a flare. And what do I get? A brain dead idiot who not only didn't even offer a tired climber water, but was also stupid enough to leave the safety on." Edward said as he pointed the handgun towards the man with his rifle.

"Idiot 2.0, slowly lower my rifle to the ground and take two steps back. I don't want to hurt anyone but in times like these where people make stupid decisions I will do what I have to." He said, to which the man complied quietly, obviously scared, as were many of the kids on the rooftop.

With a practiced hand Edward quickly ejected the magazine in the gun before removing then one in the chamber, dropping the empty firearm to the ground before composing himself. "Now where are my manners? My name is Edward Nigma, and if you think there's an evacuation you're in for one hell of a shock. Last time I heard your government was pulling all its boys back. Apparently the dead are a little harder to eradicate than your average trigger happy moron."

His eyes met those of the people before him, before he slowly walked to where his rifle was laying on the floor, he slowly crouched grabbed his gun, brushing away dirt and grime from the trigger before slinging it back around his shoulders, the weight settling comfortably.

With a loud clap that scared a few of the girls Edward gave a large smile that didn't meet his eyes. "Well considering that most of you obviously have no fucking clue whats happened in the past few weeks, let me enlighten you with what I know. Class is officially in session, though I'd suggest getting as many people as you can here because I will not repeat myself. So unless you want to go grab them, ask what you want and I'll answer what I can."

@OppositeInverse
 
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Mel begins to move inside to the stairwell when she heard some students begin to squeal. She stopped for a moment to look back, seeing that the man with an accent took the gun from Mr. Johnson, most of the macho guys started to run back out to try and help, but what could they do? Mel's heart dropped as she peeked through the door to the scene of the man now holding her teachers at gunpoint. Mr. Law tells him what a mistake he's made, as he points the gun at Law, making him drop the rifle. After his spree of being really mean and calling them brain dead and his hostility, Carmella's naive nature went away. This wasn't a messenger of rescue. He was a straggler, alone. She could see now by his actions of assaulting Mr. Johnson, this guy was a threat. From the moment he took the gun from Johnson, all bets were off. Bryan was outside watching it unfold, as Mel whispered to him to come inside, but he refused. Law lowers his rifle and the man takes it back as he tells them a piece of news that shatters Mel: The military isn't coming. She sighed in fear as he also referred them as "your government" and judging by the accent he wasn't from here. Johnson looked at Law while the man banged a clap that startled everyone. The moment he emptied his gun, the rest of the teachers rushed up the stairs, pushing students down into the 3rd floor, and when Carmella saw what they were carrying, her eyes went big.

"They called it Montecelli." One of the students whispered to Mel and other students. "I overheard them say it's a protocol for violent intruders." Mel then connected the dots. That man outside was about to get a Texas Treatment.

The roof door opens as the remaining staff at Raegan High came outside and surrounded the man as he talked, looking interested at his news. Johnson then cuts him off. "You don't play chess much, do ya fella? You ever heard of the Montecelli Trap?"

At that moment the male teachers behind the man grabs his arms as students gasp in horror. Mr. Law kicks the back of the man's knees to cause him to kneel as the female teachers grabbed his clip and bullets from the gun and rifle. They put it a measurable distance away from him to where he had to go through the newly arrived teachers who carried two more handguns loaded, safety off. They'd got them from the infected school resource officers before this shitstorm. Mr. Johnson came and grabbed his gun back, and now not just the rifle, the bow and arrrows as well. Johnson kneels to him while restrained and talks. "It's an advanced Trap... you isolate the knight, put him right in front of the king with the queen offset, make him think he has the power. And then well, you bring your own Calvary from all angles forcing the opponents do or die move. The way you speak means you ain't from around here, but how we do it in Texas? Everyone knows how to work a gun son. You were willing to take an old man's gun from him when all he was trying to do is protect kids? And call him and his friends brain dead idiots? Not realizing that MAYBE we had more guns, so now you get all your toys taken away, well I guess that makes you idiot 3.0 huh?"

Mr Jonson then bears his eyes into the man's soul, repeating what he told him earlier. "See? This is why we can't have nice things."


Mr. Johnson pats him on the back and directs the teachers to drag him over to the edge of the roof facing the draggers down below. Many of the students screamed in fear the teachers were going to throw him over. He might have been a little aggressive and held a gun at everyone but to kill a man? That's insane to think about. An event like this should unify not corrupt in chaos Mel thought to herself, but there was one thing he said that made her think. He'd referred to the draggers as the dead. No way they could be right? They were walking, breathing infected. They did look deceased, but no dead thing walks. Mel stepped out don the door onto the roof, Magnesium light still very bright. The teachers made the man kneel facing outward, the horde of draggers below him. "I told you you made a mistake man." Mr. Law tells him. Johnson then directs the teachers to keep the students secure as he talks to the man again. "So now you don't have a choice. You hold a gun to me and other adults who are just trying to keep kids safe!? Kids who haven't seen their parents or loved ones in 6 weeks! We have kids too! Wives! Husbands, but people like you don't think, they just wave a gun around with power calling people idiot just because it makes them feel powerful. I see why you're alone, what you get kicked from a group? How powerful you feel now buddy? So tell us what we wanna know."

A female teacher assigned to Mel's group, Stein, steps up and calms Johnson down and diffuses everyone, speaking to the man in a calm voice. "Just tell us what we wanna know. Where's the military? Why aren't they coming? What the hell is going on??"

Students listened to teachers as they headed inside to safety away from the situation being handled by adults. As they poured through, Mel stayed behind, she wanted to to hear everything. He was held at gunpoint by three teachers, and another one confiscated his rifle and bow. He was really in a pickle, And if he so much as made a move he'd be Sparta kicked for sure Mel thought. She understood Johnson's point. This man came to THEIR turf and had the audacity to throw his weight around, but also...he was probably just as scared as any of them. Maybe more since he was alone. Mel went to her best friend Mari's backpack, grabbed a bottled water and pushed through the guns and teachers as they looked with disapproval. They told her to stop but Mel placed the water at his side and backed up quickly, a bit afraid of him.

"He's still a human being." Mel told the high strung group of staff bent of protection. Is protection worth it if you aimlessly doom someone to death before they explain themselves?


"Alright idiot 3.0, now's your chance to talk about that news you were so ready to share with everyone." Mr. Law says to him.


Ms. Stein pulls Mel behind her and tells her to stay back. She watched the adults talk, as a few students peeked through the door to listen in as well. They were scared, hell Mel was to. They all were. She'd tried to help him before, but seeing his aggression and antics she didn't trust his attitude anymore. She looks down at the draggers, now thinking about them as dead because of the man's words.

-> @RiddL
 
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Edward watched as the teachers with guns come up the stairs and sighed in annoyance when they started talking chess, almost feeling like he'd fall asleep with the lecture that they were giving him. When they finished talking a young girl stepped forward and placed a water bottle next to him, scurrying back before he could even mutter thankyou.

Edward drew himself up on his knees and cleared his dry throat, before slowly reaching down for the water, wary of the guns pointed in his face, and uncapped the bottle and took a drink before placing it back on the ground.

"Alright, I guess I'll start from the beginning then. My name is Ex-Warrant Officer Edward Nigma, previously of the Australian SAS. I was with my wife and child here when the storm came and that fucking virus with it, it seemed to target those whose immune systems were weakest, like my sons, as well as the recently deceased. As far as I can tell, the infected are dead in every sense of the word, minus the fact that they're still walking and eating every living organism they can find. That means us." he paused to take another sip from the water.

"Transmission as far as I can tell is blood to blood and saliva to blood, my son turned and bit my wife so I know this first hand. Also, the only way to kill them is to destroy the brain, please note this as there may be a pop quiz afterwards. Anything that penetrates the brain will kill it, I gave mercy to my family with a ball point pen." He continued, taking yet another sip of water.

"Now for the fun part... The grunts won't be coming simply for the fact that they have already tried to, a full battalion about two weeks ago tried and was decimated, less than half of the boys lived and half of them were bitten. I don't think the remnants of the military want to expend anyone else on a suicide run." He said with a sense of finality.

"Look. Let me leave or let me stay. I can use my experience to help you. Or I can climb back down and take my chances with the Zs. Either way you win. But remember that the longer you're here shining that magnesium light, which under other circumstances would have been clever, the more likely you are going to have much nastier customers. If I wanted to hurt any of you I would have done it from a thousand yards away, instead I put my faith in humanity and climbed up this crumbling building to see if I could find a safe haven." He said holding his head high. He wouldn't let see how nervous he felt, because he really REALLY didn't want go back down there.
 
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Avery Cortez | Reese Thompson – Fire Station 68, Southwest side of Houston going towards Downtown Houston​


”Make sure to bring back the water, okay? Oh, and don’t forget baby formula. Oh and…”


“Ma’am…. There are corpses walking through the streets. We’ll bring back whatever we can, okay?” Avery turned to look over at the woman with a small dog in her arms. She had turned out to be a high maintenance, post-apocalyptic, Beverly Hills house wife. Ever since she had been picked up out of an abandoned building, she had not stopped complaining about how the world coming to an end had been giving her headaches, and causing her dog stomach aches. How she even knew that her dog had stomach aches was beyond Avery, but she kept her mouth shut and tried to avoid the bimbo at all costs. “There’s a high chance that the four of us won’t make it back, so please…. Just don’t do anything stupid for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours. We might come back but it might take a while. Um, anyway we gotta go.” Avery didn’t really know what to tell the group of people that had been gathering in the garage to see them out. There were several others still in the building but they were busy doing whatever they did during their days trapped in the fire station.


As Avery fastened her belt with her axe settled well in its place, the garage door opened up by some men pulling on a chain. The fire station had two working trucks with tanks full of gas, but instead of taking them, Avery decided to take her black Jeep parked in the driveway. It would be good in case they needed to go over any medians or go off onto some grass. It was a vehicle that was expendable, other than the emergency vehicles that had valuable material inside.


” Let’s go! To either side of the gate, open on my cue!” A bigger man with a beard fit for a Viking shouted out commands as a group of men and teenagers ran out to open the gates as well as some with axe’s to take out any of the dead that tried to roam inside. As soon as everyone began to run out to get in position, Avery and three other men ran out to the Jeep. Little questions were asked as to what they brought along with them. As much as the woman didn’t like fire arms, she never opposed to the others bringing them out to scavenges.


“We’re set!” Avery’s voice rang out as she let the Viking man know that they were ready to go. With a quick whistle coming out from the man, the gates began to open and the real world began to bleed in through the cracks. Avery’s hands tightened around the steering wheel as she witnessed the dead stumble in towards the men. Axe’s began to sink into skulls and corpses began to drop, and before more of the dead could make their way in, Avery drove out so they could close the gates without any casualties.


A sigh escaped her lips as she watched the gates close in the rear view mirror, a sense of relief settling in.


“Okay, I was thinking that we probably park the Jeep under or over a highway bridge? Somewhere close enough yet far out enough for us to not get caught in the bunch of cars downtown?” Her eyes darted up to the mirrors to make eye contact with the two in the back, then turned her head towards the one next to her. “Mark, do you have any ideas? Reese and I never came down this way, so I don’t exactly know how bad it is.”


Turning back to the road, Avery let the men hatch a plan amongst themselves. She had planned on checking out some of the precincts near downtown, and possibly a Sam’s club or Costco before retreating.
 
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