Roland Svensson sat with his back against the inside of the counter of the abandoned convenient store. His head was drooped forward, hands open on his short, brown hair, caressing his head, while his elbows rested on his bent knees. His thoughts were a giant, frantic mess. He'd been running for what felt like a life time, but he knew it hadn't been even near that long. When in such a situation as things had become, it was wise to take advantage of every peaceful moment you could. That's exactly what he was doing now. Resting his body while attempting as best he could to ease his mind.

Thankfully, he was not alone. Roland had been fortunate to find a companion, a survivor like himself, in this now broken world. While braving what was left of the Chicago streets, Roland had run into a soldier. A Staff Sargent Bishop, Benjamin, who, like himself, was one of those who hadn't ended up a ravenous, shambling, blood thirsty lunatic. Though they both had mastery over their adrenal glands, thanks to Stim, Bishop was the brawn of the pair, and Roland the brain. Both were strong and intelligent, but, for obvious reasons, Bishop was a more formidable combatant.

Suddenly, disrupting Roland's hard earned and well deserved peace, Bishops voice and pounding foot steps had came echoing from the rear of the building. "Sven! We have to leave. Now!" Bishop had yelled this with calm intensity. Though, it was a wavering sort of calm. Roland couldn't blame him. This whole thing was fucked. No one could be 100% cool under pressure. Not anymore.

Responding to the sudden urgency, Roland immediately snatched the sack of supplies the two of them had collected from the store upon their arrival earlier. He quickly rose to his feet, hopped over the counter and headed for the door, Bishop's foot steps getting closer behind. Roland swung open the front door, gave a quick glance both ways then turned to watch for Bishop. He could hear the demented sounds and cries emanating from the back room. Bishop was bolting toward him, away from the horrific death that was drawing near. As soon as Bishop was clear, Roland released the door and took off along side him.

Certain that Bishop was just as unsure as he was himself, Roland started looking for potential places to hide out in. The convenient store might have worked, but Bishop had messed that up. He probably wanted to check out back for anything of use and got sighted. Hence the ravenous horde now at their back. But even if this had not happened, the store had too many windows, making it difficult to fortify. Still, it had food and refrigerators, so it was an ideal place to make an attempt at fortifying. The restroom and toilet paper was another desirable feature. With effort, they could have blocked off the store front and had a nice place to survive in for a good while.

Unfortunately, the two were now, one again, running for their lives. After a couple minutes of full on sprinting, something caught Roland's eye off to his left.There was a warehouse down the street, a fairly secure looking one at that. If not, it wouldn't be too difficult to do a sweep and make sure it was clear before they started to fortify the building. "There," Roland exclaimed, pointing. Bishop changed course along side Roland and they kicked it into gear, adrenaline surging into their blood stream.

Upon arrival, Bishop kicked open the locked door allowing them to enter. Roland almost collapsed and leaned against the wall opposite the door, supporting his weight with his hands, his head bowed between his outstretched arms, panting heavily. Bishop slammed the now unlock-able door and found the heaviest object he could find to barricade the door. Tapping into his adrenal gland once more, he heaved a large wooden and metal desk in front of the door. He then looked out the small window and small cluster of degraded humans making their insane way through the mostly vacant parking lot. Going around or over a few miscellaneously distributed automobiles. There was only about ten or fifteen, thankfully.

"Don't keel over on me now," Bishop jested, winded. "We're not out of this just yet." With that, the soldier retrieved his side arm and cocked the slide before moving further into the building to begin their sweep. Roland reached and retrieved his own which they'd salvaged at one point. He located the safety and clicked it to off, then proceeded to follow Bishop. As they left the room, the anticipated banging, screaming and snarling began at the door and wall of the room.

"Up there," Bishop said pointing up at a ladder. "It leads to the main door control for the next room." Bishop pulled out a flashlight and, with his pistol, quickly scanned the room beyond the large open door. "It's clear, get up there and see what you can do, Sven."

As Roland quickly climbed up the ladder Bishop sprinted back toward the blockaded door, hearing various squeaks of metal-on-metal as the door bent inward.

"These fuckers are strong," Bishop said jamming his shoulder into the desk, pinning the door shut. Fingers started to protrude from the bent areas of the door as the monsters tried to claw their way inside. "I don't know how long I'll be able to keep this up!" He kick started his adrenaline and pushed harder, sending groans of protest from the door as he bent the metal back outward, slicing off a few fingers in the process. The unfortunate victims shrieked in agony as their fingers were sliced from their hands and attacked the door with even more ferocity. Bishop one handed his pistol and fired off a few rounds out of a hole still left in the door.

"I'm working on it," Roland shouted down from the control panel. His fingers danced and arced over the keyboard with speed and fluidity. The screen filled with rapidly opening and closing windows, Roland's Stim enhanced brain and hand eye coordination amplified enough to read and respond to each window in a fraction of a second. The staccato of keys stopped as a shriek of rusted metal filled the room and the inner door slowly began to close.

"I got it! Get out of there!" Roland shouted as he shot the terminal, permanently jamming the door once it closed. He ran to the ladder and slid down to the floor.

"Stand back!" Bishop said. "They're pissed!" Bishop gave one last mighty shove on the door then turned and bolted to the inner door, now halfway shut. Behind him the blocked entrance exploded inward as ten of the creatures poured in, all intent on catching their prey. Bishop made it to the door, spun around and in one motion threw his pistol to Roland and unslung his rifle from his back. The two opened fire on the creatures running toward them killing most as they jumped over crates and stacks of pipes, splashing blood over the floor and walls like some grotesque painting. More funneled in from the entrance, hearing the commotion from outside and wanting in on the violence.

"Cover me," Bishop said, turning and grabbing the door, almost completely shut. Using what remained of the adrenaline pumping through his system he lifted the door, showering the room from above with sparks from the gears being forced backward. He lifted the door to chest level and groaned under the strain being put on on his body.

"Get in!" he yelled over the screams and gunshots. Roland fired off a few more rounds, stopping the closest of the beasts dead in their tracks, and jumped back, rolling underneath the door. Bishop gave one last push with a shout of frustration and forced the door up just enough to jump inside himself. The door slammed shut, followed by the pounding and scratching from the creatures bodies crashing into the door. The pounding continued for a few seconds and then, realizing their prey was gone, the pounding stopped and the creatures fled. Bishop breathed deeply putting his hands on his knees and leaning over, beads of sweat making their way down his forehead to drip onto the cement floor. He stood up straight after a few seconds and tried to slow his breathing, leaning up against the large door and scanning the room with his flashlight. It was pitch black, save for two small windows on either side of the warehouse that were mostly covered in grime. Bishop turned and examined the wall next to the door and found a yellow box hanging by a thick black wire with two large buttons on it. The red button was pressed inward and the green button protruded outward with the word "ON" stenciled into the button. He pressed hard on the button, hearing a clicking sound as the lights overhead activated. Most of them slowly turned on, gradually getting brighter over time. Some flickered on and off, damaged from under use or a broken fuse. Now bathed in light the two men realized just how big this building was.

The room was vast and filled with various materials: Metal, wood, pipes, etc. Three forklifts sat in charging stations near the rear of the facility and high above them was a large building made with large glass windows, the foreman's room for watching over the facility. Over head were various gratings that were all interconnected to provide mobility throughout the building.

"We should head up there," Bishop said pointing at the glass-lined building. "There should be a radio and maybe some things we can put to use up there."

Roland nodded and the two walked forward and up a ramp that led to the upper level of gratings. "Looks like an industrial warehouse," Roland said looking around the building. "This may not be such a bad place to stay."

"Yeah," Bishop said. "We should also look for any other back entrances to this place and seal them off, maybe leaving one open for us to scout around for survivors and supplies."

They reached the door that lead into the foreman's building and Bishop grasped the handle tightly with his left hand, leaning against the door with his body. With a wave of his free hand Roland positioned himself on the opposite side of the door, his two pistols held up at the ready. Bishop grabbed his rifle from his back with his free hand and turned the handle, opening the door slowly with his barrel sticking out into the room. He opened the door wide and scanned the room quickly.

"Clear," he said as Roland came into view around the doorway, pistols at the ready. They holstered their weapons and walked into the room, Roland flicking on the light switch. The room was a mess: papers littering the floor and desk, cracked frames on every picture and a spoiled cup of coffee sitting in the center of the desk on top of an old newspaper with the headline, "APOCALYPSE!" Bishop noticed an old laptop on the end of the desk with a radio sitting next to it. He pressed the power button on the computer and it came on, a picture of an apple on the center of the screen. Bishop turned back to Roland.

"Nope," he said immediately. "I refuse."

"Ah, come on," Bishop said cracking a grin. "Just this once. See if you can broadcast a signal through the computer and hook it up to the radio." Roland sighed, going to the computer only because of the fact he'd get to dismantle it.

Neveah eyes slid open as the rays of a new day shone into her golden eyes, squinting slightly she sighed, "Another day in paradise", she said aloud to no one in particular. It had been only that she would have been speaking to her father but now he was gone. That thought thudding through her barely awake brain still fuzzy from the night before. She slowly unwrapped her self from her precautions she takes at night to survive. Pulling her long slender legs out of the mummy bag, then putting out the citronella scented candles that were still burning. Her and her father had discovered over the years that the candles throw of their scent and made it hard for the Stims to find them at night. But that was how her father had worked always trying to find the most simple solutions to a problem. Salvaging the precious liquid pouring off the melted wax and adding it to another. Her stomach began to protest her choice of not eating the night before to conserve her food reserves. She sighed and went to her pack, typically used by someone in the military her father had bought the many years ago from a Army, Navy store. Pulling out a grill that she used to cook and purify water, setting her meager tinder into the and lighting it cautiously. A tin cup filled with as little amount of water as she could get away with for cooking half a package of Ramen noodles. After eating her small meal she began to pack up her few belongings to move to another safe house for another night. This is how her life has been for the last three years since the Stims started going nuts.

It wasn't long before she had everything ready to go again she had become very proficient with it over the years. She could remember hours of drilling her father before then packing and unpacking as quickly as she possibly could and then being told to do it again and beat her last time. It had been tedious and cruel to her when she was younger but now she was grateful for everything her father had drilled into her head since she was very young. Because even though it had been crazy and nuts to everyone else it was that eccentricity that had kept them alive. As she unchained and unbolted the doors to the school cafeteria she had barricaded herself in last night. Double checking to make sure he had every thing and putting her hand on sheath of the katana hung at her hip, always ready to use it if need be. One quick swipe and a Stims head can come clean off, neutralizing the threat entirely.

She sighed as she stepped out into to the world that was once beautiful now decimated. She missed the days when she felt innocent not knowing what it felt like to feel your blade slice through someones neck. She started on her way for the most part you hardly ever ran into anyone and when you did nothing was said. If you did have to talk to someone it was either to tell them not to go the way they just came from, or to barter for something. But often times you needed to be careful even with that because many times it was a trap. You could end up raped or worse someone meal, some people so hungry and desperate that they revert to cannibalism. She had never been so naive to fall for such a thing but she had come on the scene aftermath. She stopped for a moment and added a little more chap stick onto her lips. Chapstick, disposable wipes, water, fuel sources, and cigarettes were some of the most wanted things and you could get just about anything for those things. Even though it was uncommon to communicate with other Neveah still missed companionship. She missed her father.

Taking a seat at the foreman's desk, Roland got to work. If it weren't for it being a 'zombie apocalypse,' there would be no way in hell he would touch a Mac. But he did what he had to. First off, Roland grabbed the radio and began to open the casing. In mid attempt, he had to engage his adrenal gland for only a second so that the radio's casing would separate. To conserve time, he then removed the battery from the notebook computer, instead of shutting it down. After this was accomplished, Roland opened the case of the computer, revealing it's 'guts,' like the radio before it. All the while, Bishop examined their new surroundings, probably checking the room for anything of any kind of use. There was the occasional glance of confusion from the Marine. Roland, however, pretended not to have noticed them and continued what he was doing.

After connecting what he needed to, where he needed to connect it, Roland reconnected the battery and turned on the computer once more. His fingers started working quickly, though not near as fast as if it were a different operating system. His reactions were slightly slower than if he had been working on a Windows PC. After setting up what he needed to, about five minutes in total, give or take, Roland began to test his contraption.

"Done," Roland said plainly. Bishop stopped what he was doing and made his way over to his companion. He was leaning over his shoulder, inspecting Roland's handy work.

"Looks great," Bishop said with what seemed to be mild sincerity. "What's it do," he asked after a pause. Roland sighed softly.

"Well, the radio wasn't in perfect working order, so by making Mr. Mac here the new receiver, we will be able to hear replies much more clearly. So, we can sit safely in here while we try to contact," he shrugged. "Well, anyone with another receiver." He paused, looking at Bishop who stared back plainly. "And you can check your Facebook, MySpace, e-mail... porn." Bishops eyebrows raised instantly at the last comment. It'd been a good while since they'd seen, well, anyone. Let alone a woman. Even longer since they'd been intimate with one. Damn, I hope there are still women left in the world... Roland thought. There would be no reason to keep on fighting.

"So," Bishop said, interrupting Roland's thoughts. Roland blinked and looked to Bishop. "Are you going to start scanning frequencies, or shall I do it?"

"I'll do it," Roland answered as he picked up the transmitter, which was attached with a spiraling black cord to the radio. "You can go checkout out the rest of the warehouse." He watched as Bishop left ensuring that the door shut securely behind him before he turned his head back to the radio. He turned the dial to the far left, deciding to just go from left to right. He sat in silence listening. There was nothing but the sound of dead air. He sighed, hunkered over the desk, resting his head on one hand while he brought up the transmitter to his face with the other. "This is Roland Svensson, and Marine Staff Sargent Benjamin Bishop. Can anyone read me? Is anyone alive?" After releasing the button, he waited in silence, listening. Nothing. He tried one more time with the same result before trying the next frequency. And so, the long, tedious process began.

"I hope Bishop's having as much fun as I am..." Roland muttered softly before trying the sixth frequency.

Bishop, glad to be out of the small room, walked up a grating to one of the grime encrusted windows. He spat on a section of the glass and wiped it with a cloth he picked up from the ground and made a small circle of clean. He looked out onto the street they had just run from, various corpses strewn about the place with the occasional newspaper floating on the breeze.

To think, he thought to himself. This used to be a very busy city.

Bishop threw the rag over his shoulder and continued walking to the ramp that lead to ground level. He stepped over a stack of pipes and over to the forklift charging area. The forklifts seemed to be in working order, all showing a green light that, according to the drawn out instructions, meant it was charging. He looked to the left and noticed a door hanging awkwardly on its hinges. Sighing a bit to himself he tapped into his adrenaline and walked to the door. Grabbing each side he pulled hard and tore the door from its rusty hinges. He threw the door aside and clapped the rust off his hands looking into the dark room ahead. Thumbing the button on his flashlight he lit up the room. He turned the light off, wishing he hadn't opened the door to begin with.

"Poor bastard," he said turning around and picking up the door once more. Hanging in the room was a man held up by his neck in a noose. His body was blue and turning rictor mortis, the smell of decay now entering the room. Bishop pushed the breathing cloth up out of his collar and over his mouth as he grabbed the door. Trying not to look at the corpse he slid the door back where it should have been and went to go find something to close it with. A welding tool sat on a box a few feet away and Bishop reached his hand out for it.

Crash

Bishop stopped, his hand still hovering over the welding torch. A few clanks of metal rang out as something walked over the now collapsed door. Bishop kick started his adrenal gland again, still not fully recovered from the run and exertion from earlier. He flipped around, pointing his rifle at the doorway. Sitting awkwardly on the door was one of the crazed beings, thin and frail looking with a hoarse rasp coming from its breathing. It had red eyes, a sickly pale color to its flesh and what appeared to be a broken leg. Bishop lowered his gun and slung it back over his shoulder. He slowly walked toward the creature, balling his right hand into a fist. When he got to within a few inches of the beast it hissed with disapproval, still defiant despite its weakened adrenaline-less state. Bishop walked unflinching closer and when he got into range kicked it in the chest considerably hard, a crunching sound emanating from its chest. The creature flew backward into the room lying on its side, coughing with blood pooling around its mouth. Bishop walked next to the beast, who in turn still tried to snap at his foot with its teeth as it lay there dying.

"Fucking animal," Bishop said as he delivered the coup de gras, a powerful stomp to its skull. It's weak boned cranium collapsed under his boot with a splat. Bishop lifted his foot off the dead creature and spat on its corpse, wiping his boot off on what remained of the creatures clothes. He walked out of the room and back into the warehouse to grab the welding torch, his sweep complete. They were safe.

For now.

Nevaeh decided to venture back into the city she had to scavenge some more supplies. She used to do this with her father it was a two person job, one to search and one to cover the others flank. She decided that her best course of action would be to use her fathers M 16, she preferred her katana but she didn't feel like getting into close quarters combat with a Stim by herself. She unstrapped the rifle from her pack, checked the ammo she had a full clip but she didn't want to have to waist the ammo if she could avoid it. At first glance you would have swore that Neveah was a veteran soldier but she had never spent a day in the military. But the training she received from her father was the equivalent to it.

As she entered the city she took in her surroundings there was a warehouse down the street that she could see from her position. She went from cover to cover until she ended up crouched down, with her back up against a burnt out car. She slowly stood and surveyed the area, to her right was a convenient store. "I might be able to find some supplies in there", she said in her head. She made a split second decision and decided to scope it out. Sprinting over to the store she noticed the busted out windows and everything that had been of any value was already looted years ago. She decided to go in through the back alley, as she turned the corner, she cursed under her breath, "Shit!". In the alley was a group of Stims milling around several had already been taken out and were now being devoured by the others. "Well someones around here" she said under her breath again. It was then there was a shift in the breeze, one of the Stims stopped his horrifying meal, and breathed in deeply with his nose. This was then noticed by another, who stopped eating on an arm and did the same as the other. "Fuck!", Neveah cursed again, she had her rifle at the ready they had picked up scent.

Neveah was now running for her life, the group of Stims had began chasing her at breakneck speed as soon as they had pinpointed her position. Now she had wished she had gone in through the front. She ran panting, using all the oxygen she could to will her limbs to move faster than the Stims. But that was hard they had Stim on their side and Neveah didn't. "Who ever it was really pissed them off", she said as she ran the most logical place that she could see someone going was the warehouse that she had scouted out when she entered the area. "If their still alive when I find them, I'm so gonna kick their ass for this", the guttural growls and moaning behind her was like a whip being cracked on a mule. Her heart beating, she felt as though it would jump right out of her chest cause of the fear, and natural adrenaline coursing through her veins.

When she made it to the warehouse she noticed some more dead Stims in the vicinity. "Well I guess they made it in there who ever they are", she turned and looked behind her two of the Stims were to close for comfort she let off a couple of shots. Neveah was a superb shot and each hit the Stims between the eyes, they dropped and Neveah could now put some more distance between them and herself. She made it to the warehouse door, as she pushed on it she realized that it had been barricaded shut. "Dammit I'm not getting in through there", she began to scout around for an entry point. She noticed what looked to be a air duct and she decided to take her chances with it. She pulled off a protective grate as quickly as she could using her knife to jimmy a couple of the screws. She finally it open enough for her to slip in she then carefully replaced the grate to hopefully detour the Stims from the area, she clambered through the various shafts, and finally found one that emptied into what looked like a storage room. Using the heel of her boot to bust through another grate she dropped from the ceiling into the room. She surveyed the room, "All clear" she said she shook her head she was still not used to the fact that she was alone and had forgot for a moment.

She opened up the door making sure to keep and eye out for Stims. She looked through the building, "There's got to be someone around here", she continued sweeping the area finding it clear, well accept for a body in decomp and another with crushed skull. She knelt down at the mutilated being, it had a broken leg but that was obviously before its death. But the pool of blood was recent, it still glistened in the small amount of light coming into the room. She stood up finding what looked like a foreman's office. "Well here goes" she said, she knew that if they weren't Stims they would know she wasn't if she knocked. Balling her fist loosely she knocked "Shave and a haircut", on the metal door. She hoped for the best cause either way she would be dead. If she left and went back out she be killed by Stims outside if she was wrong and these were crazed Stims she would be killed inside the warehouse. But if by chance her instincts were right then she wouldn't be alone any more.

Alex sat on the couch in the living room of his apartment with his father's old Remington 20 gauge shotgun in his lap. He had already taken the weapon apart and cleaned it for the 3rd time that day...there wasn't much he could do besides that anyway, he had already boarded up every window in his little apartment, taken stock of his food and medicine and thrown the body of an insane man he had killed down the stairs, too bad he couldn't get the blood and brains off the carpet or wall, his land lady was going to be pissed...oh right, he thought to himself, shes probably dead too.
Alex sighed, grabbed the shotgun and stood up to walk to one of the boarded windows and gazed out of a crack between the wooden boards to the sunlit street across from the apartment complex. No movement, no signs of life. He walked to the door leading to the stairs, and took a deep breath. You can't hide here forever, he thought to himself, might as well go out now and see whats out there. Alex unbolted the door and slowly opened it, the thought of a crazed cannibal standing in front of him caused his heart to pound at a quick steady pace in his ears. Suddenly he realized he had been holding his breath this whole time, and let it out as the door finished opening to reveal absolutely nothing between Alex and the stairs leading down.
Alex reached the stairs and began his slow descent to the street level, his trigger finger twitching at every strange noise he either heard or imagined, until finally, his feet reached pavement. Alex jumped slightly when he heard a sickening, wet slurping noise coming from the other side of the stairwell, he tightened the grip on the Remington, checked to make sure the safety was off, and slowly crept around the base of the stairs to investigate. What he saw was almost unbelievable, a young woman, probably around Alex's age, was crouched over the disemboweled remains of a police officer. Alex had seen some sickening and disturbing images as a combat medic in the U.S army Rangers, but nothing could compare to the simple wrongness or a human eating another human. He lifted the Remington so the iron-sites were in the center of the young woman's forehead, and then slowly squeezed the trigger. The gun clicked, and that was it. The cannibal's head snapped up to Alex and she snarled, made all the more terrifying by the flesh and gore dangling from her teeth.
Alex realized he had forgotten to pump the damn shotgun after loading it.
"Fuck", he growled as he violently pumped the Remington, then steadied his aim as the woman began to rise.
She lunged at him, and he pulled the trigger, there was a deafening explosion and suddenly her head was gone.
Alex stared at her headless corpse as it struck the pavement with a thud and suddenly felt sick. Everything had gone to shit, and all it took was a single night.
He tore his gaze from the bloody mess and spotted an ambulance across the street. Finally, something I'm familiar with, he thought to himself. Alex pumped his shotgun, and headed for it.

The pounding on the bedroom door grew more wild and aggressive with each passing second. Niko's mouth went dry with anticipation and the stone in his chest seemed to sink deeper and deeper. He closed his eyes tightly, praying that God would deliver him from this night mare, but when he peeled back his eye lids he discovered that he was still standing in the same spot, still in the same room, holding the same pistol in his right hand. The young student blinked back stinging tears of anguish as he lifted the handgun with trembling hands, taking aim at the oak wood door that rattled and shook from the erocious beating it was being dealt on it's opposite side.




The bedroom door cried as the pounding finally tore it off it's hinges and the monster with the familiar face went flying towards the young man. Niko's heart jumped, he panicked and fired.

Bang!
Bang!
Bang!

Niko was startled out of his sleep by the ringing sound of gun shots coming from outside his bedroom window.He jumped from the bed and scrambled over to the window peering through the curtain carefully. He could see a couple fleeing down the dark street firing rounds at the raging mob that was pursuing them. He wasn't sure if they would get away, but he was certain that all the noise they were making wasn't going to improve their chances of survival. "Stim heads are sensitive to sound. With all their firing, every Stim Head in the neighborhood is gonna come flocking to this street. Fuck!" This is bad,he thought. He planned on slipping out tonight to scavenge for food and supplies which he was terribly low on, but the chances of him running into groups of them was increasing with every shot that was fired. He finally decided. He was staying in tonight.

His stomach rumbled in protest. If he decided to stay in tonight, when would he be able to get out next? A few days? A week? He noticed that when Stim Heads found a place to party they stuck around for a long time. His best bet at the moment would probably be to head out or he'd end up too weak to fight off those bastards. The Stim heads would be heading towards the sound of the gun shots anyway which was in the opposite direction of where he was heading. So as long as that couple stayed alive, they were like his decoys. "That works." he said to himself satisfied.

Niko slid a knife into his shoe, stuffed a handgun with a silencer attached into his pants, slid on his back pack and grabbed a golden metal bat that read "little slugger". He headed To the back door of the apartment and headed down a stairwell that led to the backyard of the four story-building. He locked the door behind him. He didn't want to come home to find that another scavenger had raided his home base. "Well, here goes nothin."

Hearing an odd noise, Roland sat up straighter and looked out the windows of the foreman's roost to find Bishop welding a door to it's frame. He paused there, watching, brow furrowed in puzzlement. He then reverted to his previous state and continued scanning and speaking into the radio. He had been going about this now for a good ten or fifteen minutes with no change whatsoever.

Suddenly gunfire was heard. As worn out as he was, Roland leaped up and flung the door open. He then yelled out tot he Marine. "Bishop, wait!" After getting his attention, Bishop silenced the welding torch. Roland began listening intently. There were some odd sounds coming from the far side of the warehouse. Bishop's end. Mixed in with the clunking was the unmistakeable sound of the degraded humans writhing about outside. They were after something. More like someone, Roland corrected himself. Gunfire could only mean one thing. There was another survivor about.

"What the hell's that? Bishop, what do you think that sound is? Did they find a way in?" He let Bishop respond. Not long after the sound stopped, while the eerie rasping and other various, horrible noises continued. In the silence, an all too familiar rhythm was percussed from what seemed like the opposite side of the door. The familiar shave-and-a-haircut pattern that was utilized by every civilized person at at least one point in their life. Shoving his interesting thoughts of ties that linked all people together aside, Bishop focused his gaze to Bishop. "Get that door open," Roland said with intensity. He was glad Bishop hadn't welded it very much. Roland's only concern was whether or not Bishop had it in him to break the seal. It would have to be his last feat of strength for the day. They both desperately needed to recover. One never knew what the next day would hold, so it was best to be physically prepared for anything.

Roland slipped inside the foreman's office for a moment, grabbing his pistol. He then started down the ramp. "Now," he said softly. He cocked the slide in front of him, all the while never braking his stride, and never taking his eyes off the door. "Let's see what's behind door number two."

Neveah heard intelligent conversation on the other side of the door that meant they weren't crazy yet. "Listen" she said through the door "Is there anybody in there, I'm just looking for a good place to hide okay. I don't even have Stim in my system, please I just need somewhere safe for the night. I've got some meager supplies that I'm willing to share", she said in a very serious tone of voice she didn't want to sound like she was as scared as she actually was. She waited for a reply she heard somebody cock a glock,"Let's see what's behind door number two." She knew what that meant and stepped clear of the door she, put the strap of the M-16 over her shoulder and put up her hands, to try to show that she wasn't going to attack unless provoked.She hope that who ever was on the other side of that wasn't a crazy person, that would try to kill as soon as look at as her. Never the less she would rather be killed by them instead of eaten alive by Stims.

Alex reached the Ambulance with his shot gun aimed at the driver's side door, which was hanging open and had a mess of blood smeared on the inside. When he peered in, the emt in the driver's seat was nothing but a dried up pulp wearing rags of what was left of his uniform, and the smell made Alex gag. He then went around to the back and winced as the back door creaked loudly when he opened it. There was a body bag on the gurney with a body in it, and Alex found himself thankful that the bag was still closed, the stench of decay was bad enough. He leaned his shot gun against the back of the ambulance and lifted the body out of the back with a grunt of effort and dumped it on the pavement, then he climbed into the back and grabbed a moderate sized first aid kit with a shoulder strap on the side.
Alex opened the kit and checked its contents. One syringe of morphine. a roll of medical tape, an arm sling, gauze, stitches, a small bottle of disinfectant, and a travel sized bottle of asprin, he nodded to himself, satisfied with what he found.
Suddenly, something seized his ankles and before he could react, yanked hard. Alex's face slammed down on the metal of the ambulance floor, and then his face struck the pavement yet again as he was pulled out of the back of the vehicle. He twisted and kicked hard with his right leg, and his boot connected with slight resistance before he heard a wet crunch, then something grabbed his arm, he punched wildly and clipped something, but it held on with an iron-like, painful grip, then on that same arm, he felt a painful pressure, followed by snarling, the stars in his vision cleared enough for him to see a stim-user's mouth clamped down on the left arm of his leather jacket, he brought his right fist all the way back, and swung in a hook, which connected solidly with the mans left temple, causing his hold to loosen enough for Alex to roll away.
Alex snatched his shotgun and brought it to bear as both of the insane men, the one he had kicked in the nose, and the one he had punched, rose and lunged at him. He fired dead-on into the first man's chest, knocking him off his feet, he then pumped and fired again but missed as the one with the broken nose got in too close. Alex found himself pinned to the ground with a man functioning off adrenaline and rage desperately trying to chew through the metal barrel of his Remington. Alex looked around desperately for another weapon as the much larger and stronger man began closing the distance between his snapping jaw and Alex's throat. Then he saw it. When he had been dragged out of the ambulance, the first aid kit had spilled its contents, and the morphine syringe was laying just a few feet away. Alex reached for it but couldn't quite get it, his finger tips were just a few scant inches away, and so was the insane mans teeth from Alex's throat. Alex roared in defiance and lunged sideways, grabbing the syringe and then plunged it into the crazed cannibal's left eye. The other man shrieked as Alex pushed the syringe deeper until it was all the way in, and then pushed the struggling man off of him. He stood up, pumped the 20 gauge again and blew away the stim-user's head.
out of breath and coming off the effects of his terror induced adrenaline rush, Alex leaned against the side of the ambulance and slid down until he was sitting, he checked his shot gun. Three shells left. He was going to have to find another gun, or more ammo. He knew a little less than a mile down the street was a gun store, but he knew the chances of finding a decent weapon was slim, since the looting had taken place when the shit had just hit the fan. He stood up on shaky legs, gathered the contents of the first aid kit back into its respective container before slinging it over his shoulder, and started walking.

Crack! The Stim Head's body hit the grass with a quiet thud. It laid there twitching as Niko raised his bat then brought it down breaking through the soft skin and hard skull. If he had any food in his stomach he probably would have thrown it up from the sight of the smashed brain leaking out from the skull. He inhaled to calm himself and headed towards the picket white fence. Peering over it with his army fatigue binoculars he saw a few Stim head's in the street limping in a daze. It was good that there wasn't many of them. He could out run a few no problem. He looked back at the dead Stim User to make sure that the old man was still laying there and hadn't gotten back up.He was still down. Good.

Niko pulled out his iPhone, checking Google maps for some side streets that he could use to get to the Target he was aiming for. "Thank Rangi the internet still works." he mumbled to himself. Once he had his route memorized he flicked the blood off of his gold bat, hopped over the fence and broke out into a cold run. The Stims noticed him as soon as the soles of his shoes hit the pavement, chasing after him in hot pursuit. He could hear their quick and hard foot falls close behind him as he pushed himself through an alley. He jumped over a mound of trash hanging out of an over turned dumpster, nearly tripping over his own feet once he landed and kept going. The number of foot falls had lessened. Some of them must have fallen over the trash. Good.

Niko snapped around the corner out of the alley and ran into a sight that made his heart stop. A street flooded by gray skinned, red eye bulging, adrenalin pumped monsters that swarmed him as soon as he was in sight. Niko never stopped his run, like a foot ball player he twisted and dodged the animals flying towards him one after another. He went for another fence and leaped for the top. As soon as he gripped it, he yanked himself up and over, but one grabbed onto his foot and tumbled over the fence with him into a backyard. He scrambled to get up, but the monster had stim on it's side and was on him in a second. Instinctively, Niko threw up his arms to cover his face, but the Stim Head just latched it's jaws into his forearm. He screamed out from the pain, pulled his handgun out from his jeans and planted a bullet in the child's head. The Stim's grip loosened. He shook it off of him with tears welling in his eyes. "It was just a kid." he muttered. "Shit, it was just a fucking kid!"

Niko hated the world he lived in now. It was nothing, but a massive blood stain that was only going to get bigger. He heard the other Stim's he left behind banging and scratching on the fence. It was starting to shift and creak. It wasn't going to be standing much longer. He turned from the lifeless body of the stim that used to be a carefree child and shot a hole through the glass of the sliding backdoor, unlocked it, went inside and closed it behind him. He hurried to the front of the empty home that looked untouched by the madness of the outside world and peered through the glass window to see a small group of Stim heads outside. It was a relief compared to what he just faced. He had to get moving. They'd still be after him. He opened the front door and the race commenced again.

Niko turned down a system of alley's trying to lose them. There were a few ahead of him and he shot at them taking each one down. He refused to look behind him, he didn't want to see, plus seeing what he was running into was more important. Another Stim popped up ahead of him, he pulled the trigger and nothing. He was out of ammo. Fuckfuckfuckfuck! The Stim head ran toward him, Niko didn't slow, he picked up speed the two bumped shoulders causing Niko to spin, falling out of the alley and into something. No someone! The Stim head recovered and was coming back at him. Niko freaked! He looked over and saw a shotgun on the ground near him. He picked it up, cocked it and fired.

Alex hit the ground hard as someone slammed into his shoulder, he dropped the shotgun and rolled back to his feet, and saw the stranger who had collided with him laying on the ground. He had Alex's Remington in both hands, and fired a shell at a charging stim-user. The next stim-crazy attacker dove onto the younger man as he pumped and fired again, causing the shot to go wild, and leaving one more shell in the shotgun. Alex jumped to his feet and kicked hard into the attacker's side, knocking him off the stranger, and then kicked it in the temple as hard as he could, making sure it stayed down. When he looked back at the newcomer, only to see his own shotgun aimed at his chest.
"Hey, take it easy man, I'm not crazy, and there is one shell left in that gun", Alex said with his hands up.
Suddenly, they heard several footfalls and objects being knocked over in the alley behind Alex.
"Come on! Lets get the fuck out of here!" Alex yelled as he hauled the younger man to his feet and began running down the street.

They had been running for about 30 seconds with the stim-crazies catching up to them when the gun-store came into view, but Alex stopped when he noticed the door and windows had been destroyed and they could see the absence of weaponry in the small building.
"Where too now?", the stranger said from behind him, a slight edge of fear lining his voice. Alex couldn't blame him, he was nearly out of his own mind with terror, there had to be a dozen of those bastards behind them, they had gotten a good head start on them, but the adrenaline was giving the crazies an advantage on speed and fatigue.
"There!", the younger man said, stepping up to Alex's side to point at an old warehouse near the gunstore. Alex couldn't tell from this distance, but it looked like there were a few bodies near the warehouse, which was the best bet they had to finding other survivors.
"Let's go", Alex said, then he and his new companion headed quickly for the warehouse.

When Niko and the new guy came up to the Warehouse they couldn't find an a way in except a locked door. Niko reached into his back pack and pulled out another round of bullets that he reloaded his handgun with. He tossed the gun to the new guy and said "Cover me." A few Stims came into view a few yards away baring their teeth and growling like animals. Niko tightened his grip on his golden bat raised it above the door handle and heard several hard thuds in the distance. He turned to see the Stim Heads dropping like flies. This guy was something else, he was glad they were on the same side. The whole time he'd been surviving on his own and he found it relieving to have someone working with him. Niko banged the bat against the door handle a couple of times before the handle had finally had enough and broke loose. "Come on!" Niko yelled pushing the door open and bolting into the building.

They were surrounded my a maze of large wooden crates stacked to the ceiling that had a trail of lifeless blood drenched Stim bodies running through it. They exchanged glances and followed the path already laid out for them. Niko hoped it would lead them to other survivors and not towards more super-humans with insanity pumping through their veins dying to sink their teeth into some squishy normies. Niko didn't saunter, he walked with purpose. The stim heads they left outside would be right behind them and they needed to get somewhere safe, they came to a door and entered into a smaller room. Together they barricaded the door with large objects in the room. Niko collapsed on the floor, he'd been running for so long he could barely feel his legs. He needed a break to catch his breath. "You got some mad aim there." Niko complimented with a tired grin. "My names Nicholas, but you can call me Niko."he said reaching his hand out to shake his comrade's hand. "It's nice to finally meet someone who doesn't want to tear me limb from limb."

The binoculars glinted in the sun as Dan surveyed the landscape. About a mile down the road sat an underpass. It was hard to see through the shade into the darkness but it appeared the road was blocked. He pulled the binos from his face and checked his watch. Still early morning. He knew he shouldn't continue this path but his empty stomach said otherwise. About a minute past the underpass was a the industrial sector that was bound to have some food left. His stomach growled at the thought. So with no other direction to head Dan started walking.

On his way he passed empty houses each in heavily opposing states. Some seemed pristine like it was just another happy day in the suburbs, while others were sprayed with graffiti declaring 'The End' had come. A few still had rotting corpses sitting on the lawn. He scanned over the cars. It would be easy to hop in one. But the noise attracted unwelcome attention, plus the roads weren't very navigable anymore. Traffic jams of empty vehicles that had gotten caught by the stims while trying to evacuate.

As Dan got closer to the underpass it was easy to see the path was intentionally blocked with scrap and cars. He removed his pistol from his waistband and pulled the slide back to ensure a round was chambered. He slowed his approach and held the pistol grip firmly with both hands. Getting closer Dan could see a path through the carnage. The weight of his backpack strained against his shoulders. He shifted the load and continued on as silently as possible. Dan began moving through the roadblock and picked up the smell of cooking meat. His stomach growled again.

Dan continued with renewed caution. A cooking fire meant people, and people always meant trouble. She had brought him here in the first place. Sarah, the selfish bitch. Up ahead he could hear people. That confirmed it. Peeking around the last corner he caught sight of two men and a woman. All three were disheveled and dirty. Looking out there was no way to get by without them seeing him. "God dammit," Dan whispered to himself, "fuck it." Peeling around the corner Dan trained his pistol on the group and stepped into the light. The three were feasting around a fire. Upon closer inspection he noticed an arm roasting.

Bile. It's all he could taste. It sickened him that the smell was so inviting. It was a moment before the three noticed him. The woman grabbed a crowbar while the men wielded sharp scraps of steel. "Come on man no need for that," the bigger man stated, "just put the gun down and join us."

"Is that what he did?" Dan gestured to the hand on the fire. "Nah I think I'll keep it pointed right at you." As he spoke the woman and the other man were slowly advancing on him. "Stay back. I'm just passing through." Dan stood his ground not wanting to show fear or weakness. The two continued toward him, "I said stay back."

"Why don't you just put the gun down and we can let you pass." As the big man finished his sentence the smaller man jumped at him. Dan's reflexes surprised even himself. His aim turned from the woman to his attacker and he fired off a round instantaneously. He dropped and was dead before he hit the ground with a 9mm round buried in his skull. The woman in turn lunged at Dan and her crowbar came down on Dan's arm with a heavy impact.

"You bitch!" Dan exclaimed as he recovered and place a round into her gut. The woman fell back yelping in pain. In less than a second Dan turned the firearm on what seemed to be the leader of the three and fired off two rounds. One impacted his chest while the other punctured the man's lower abdomen. Dan held his injured arm as he stepped over the last attacker. "You son of a bitch. It didn't have to be this way. Why couldn't you just let me pass?" He pleaded as the man wriggled in pain. His limbs flopped back and forth as he gasped to get air into his punctured lung. "I hope it hurts."

Looking over at the woman she was weeping in pain doubled over on the dirty asphalt. Her blood had quickly leaked across the ground staining it red. Through bubbling blood she looked up at Dan, "help me."

Dan turned with two last words, "Fuck you." Once again he was alone walking the streets. Dan picked up his pace knowing that the gunfire would draw the stims. Nursing his arm he gripped the bones trying to make sure it wasn't broken. He hurried onward toward the industrial district full of warehouses and hopefully an unpilfered food stock.

Pleased with how his welding job on the door was coming, Bishop lifted the blast shield he wore over his face to wipe the sweat off his brow. Burned into his vision was an annoying blackish spot from the welding light, he'd just have to let it fade over time. He'd successfully welded one side in place, now all that remained were the seams at the top and base of the door. He flipped his blast shield down once again and reignited the welding torch, ready to finish the job.

"Bishop, wait!"

Bishop extinguished the torch, looking up to the foreman's roost at Roland. He opened his mouth to ask him a question when he heard noises from behind the door he was welding.

"What the hell's that? Bishop, what do you think that sound is? Did they find a way in?"

Bishop tossed the wleding torch into the tool box and stood up, approaching the door. "I'm not sure. Sounded like gunfire." He put his head closer when suddenly the "shave-and-a-haircut" pattern was banged on the door. Bishop recoiled, caught off guard by the familiar noise. "Shit. Sounds like someones outside with them." He turned and grabbed a steel pipe, his rifle sitting in the foreman's roost upstairs with Roland.

"Get that door open," Roland said with intensity.

Bishop looked over his shoulder, watching Roland reenter and leave the foreman's roost with his pistol. "I'll try." He looked back at the door, cursing himself for welding the largest side of it first. That'd make it a lot harder to break and might permenantly damage it so it couldn't be closed again. Visibly tensing his muscles he tapped into his stim reserves and, as depleted as he might be, he felt the familiar rush of adrenaline course through his veins. Bishop took a few steps back and with a roar of strength he slammed his foot into the newly welded seam of the door. The door shook violently but the seam held. Bishop tried again, and again, with little results. Calling on more stim he hunched over and lowered his body, aiming his right shoulder square at the door. He took a few extra steps back before running full speed into the door and slamming his whole body into it, parts of the seam breaking and the door bending outward a bit. The pipe became a lever as he stuck it into the opening he created and easily popped the seam off the door, it having not sustained any major damage besides a slight bend in the middle. He and Roland entered the room beyond, moving through the darkness to the far side where another door became visible.

"Who's out there?" Bishop called from behind the door. He place a hand on the locking slide bar and prepared to open it, giving Roland a look to see if he was ready.

"Stand back, we're going to open the door. Get ready to run."

As Bishop began to wedge the door open, Roland readied himself. He was leaned against the wall behind The marine., pistol at the the clenched tight. His arms had it down by his bend knees. As soon as Bishop pried it open he would continue forward with it as he followed through. It was just simple inertia.

Bishop groaned audibly slightly as he finally peeled back the door, damaging the frame. They'd fix that ASAP. Without hesitation, Roland lunged in, using a small amount of adrenaline for reactions only. He checked both sides with his pistol. First the young woman at dead center, who was obviously the human on the other side. She was backed up, ready for cavity search. Her weapons on the ground before her. She we was just in front of a dead degraded, whose head was crushed flat upon the cement floor. It must have been Bishop's doing, since Roland had found the man loved to give the bastards a good, solid boot-to-the head whenever he could.

Roland then immediately snapped to the right, then left. All clear save a hang corpse of a human. Must have been the foreman, since the guy was pretty chubby. Roland did note an open floor vent opened to his left. After only being in the room a couple seconds, Roland lowered his gun and motioned the woman to assist him. He pulled a desk over from the fall wall and put it in front of the gate.

"Bishop, start finding a plan to re-seal that door," Roland hollered. "We'll be out in just a sec." Roland, with the help of the new arrival began to put anything else they could to help barricade. The noise from the degraded was getting a little closer. He moved back to the door when he was done. "Grab your gear and lets jam," he said.

Once they were both on the other side of the threshold, Roland turned to Bishop, putting a hand on his shoulder, slightly panting. "Hey, you think we can still weld it some how? Whatever you need, we can help ya." He then stood up and turned to address the situation. Listening for any instruction from the marine.

Neveah nodded and made her way to help the man with the desk, and everything else that they could come up with. "I'm sorry I didn't think they would follow, me but I guess you guys had them worked up good before I came around. I came through the air vents I thought they wouldn't be capable of following. You know how its out of sight out of mind with them sometimes", she grabbed a hold of a filling cabinet and began to pull it over to add to the barricade.

"Grab your gear and lets jam," he said.

"Yes, sir!", said Neveah, as she took up her pack. She was glad that the people she did find were military guys, cause she didn't think she could handle being around actual civilians. She had been trained as a soldier by her father she didn't know anything else. She realized that the other guy had been welding when she had knocked. She took a quick glance around the room to find something useful. Spying some re bar sitting in a corner of the room, she snatched it up quickly, before they crossed the threshold and went into the foreman's office. "Here this should help you patch your old welds", she set down the re bar, both men were older than her she could tell, and ex military. Which meant they probably had Stim in their system, also meaning they were some of the few that it actually worked for. Because of the ones that had gotten the Stim that early on, most were turned into mindless zombies within in a year. But there were a lucky few that actually were able to use the Stim to it's advantages, but even then they didn't live long because of the toll using adrenaline takes on their bodies. She knelt down next to the man who had been welding the door, "Those are some damn good welds Sir I'm sorry you had to rip them out for me. But I think if you overlap your old welds with the re bar it should help them hold in those spots", she stood up again at attention. "My name is Neveah Hawthorn Sir's I may be a civilian but I am trained as a soldier, I will do everything in my power to help us all survive", she said with a salute.

"Yeah, I hear ya on that one", Alex replied to Niko. "And I'm Alex, wish we couldve met on better terms".
"Better terms seem to be limited nowadays", Niko said, "I'm just glad you didn't shoot me when I rammed into you".
Alex chuckled as he stretched out his sore knee. "Oh, it crossed my mind, granted it was out of panic".
He checked the clip still in the pistol. 5 rounds left.
"Niko, got anymore rounds for this pistol?". Niko pulled a clip from his pocket and handed it over to Alex, who slid it into his own pocket.
"Got anymore shells for this baby?", Niko asked, lifting the Remington.
"Nah, I had all of them in the shotgun".
"Damn", Niko muttered.
"Come on", Alex said as he stood up from his resting place. "Lets check this place out".
"I hope whoever took out those stim-heads doesn't welcome us likewise", Nikko said.
"Yeah, same here", Alex replied as the two set off.
After awhile of exploring, Alex came across a large garage-style metal door, but he couldn't find a way to open it.
Suddenly, he heard several screams, followed by running foot-falls and objects being knocked over, then Niko came running around a stack of crates, followed by six stim-crazies.
"We've got company!", Niko yelled.
Alex looked to the right and saw a red sign that read EXIT several yards through the maze of crates. "Head for that exit Niko, I'll cover you!". he raised the pistol, took aim at the stim-crazy closest to Niko and fired.

Niko burst right through the exit door and straight into the arms of a Stim head. Luckily his momentum knocked them both to the ground. He kicked himself away from it and right when it was about to leap Alex planted a bullet directly in the center of it's forehead. Before Niko could react, Alex pulled him to his feet by his shirt. "Fuck that place, bro! It's crawling with those bastards! If anyone was alive in there they're probably dead by now!" Niko exclaimed, out of breath. Alex nodded and the two of them jogged off in a different direction. When things finally seemed to calm a little, Niko pulled his iPhone out to check their location. "Sweet," he muttered. He then looked up at Alex with eager eyes. "When I ran into you, I was heading to a Target to get some supplies, but we're only a couple blocks from Michigan Avenue right now. There's everything from a Walgreen's to full scale malls over there."

"Isn't that place usually pretty busy? That might not be a good idea."

"But," Niko interjected with a grin. "When all the insanity went down it was overnight. So, all the stores were closed. The whole Midwestern region was in a state of emergency. Everywhere shut down. Some businesses were just completely abandoned. Even the only safety zone for the people in Chicago was miles away from here. I doubt anyone would have been thinking about shopping with psycho's turning every other street into a massive bloody mosh pit. If they were smart they would have headed for the safe zone. I say we give it a shot."

Alex stared the teenager in the eyes without blinking, until finally he gave in. "Alright. Just don't get me killed." Alex seemed like a cool dependable guy, but there was no telling what he would do under the right amount of pressure. He had to make sure he wouldn't put them in a situation that was too stressful. They moved carefully and quietly and said their final goodbye to the warehouse as it disappeared behind them in the distance. It didn't take them long to reach Michigan avenue. Fortunately for the duo they hadn't ran into any major trouble on the way. After navigating through a complicated alleyway they peered around the corner to the wide once bustling, loud street only to see nothing.

Alex held the gun out in front of him moving carefully, prepared for any surprises. Niko followed holding the golden bat and scanning the area. It appeared empty, but the scene was wild. There were vehicles and debris scattered everywhere. Some cars looked like they were abandoned on the street. one had a busted front window with dried blood all over the hood, a red Chrysler was parked through a stores front window. As the two moved through the mess they discovered a few degraded bodies with flies dancing over them. Nikko cringed.

"Over here!" Nikko had fallen behind Alex a little, he hurried in the direction of Alex's voice and found himself standing before an enormous grey stone building that cast a shadow over them. "I think you were right about the whole shut down theory. The front doors are locked there's no signs of a break in and from looking through the windows, I don't see a soul." He turned to Nikko. "We should make this our 'base' for now. At least until we figure out what to do next. If we need anything we won't have to travel far to get it."

Nikko looked above the Macy's sign on the building and read:Water Tower Place. His brother had taken him there right before the chaos. He looked at Alex and saluted. "Whatever you say captain."