Joseph Young slumped against the wall of his house, crying and holding the barrel of an empty .38 caliber pistol against his forehead. His wife and two kids were lying on their bedroom floors, dead from gunshot wounds to the head that he had given them moments earlier. His whole world had turned into a nightmare, and it had begun the moment he walked through the doors of Astrotech Enterprises, a corporation working closely with NASA. Joseph had been working there for ten years, and he had never seen anything like what he saw that day. His friend and co-worker, Steve Wozniak, had walked into the corporation, falling down drunk. Of course, that turned out to be a wrong assumption.

Another one of his co-workers, Ted Grant, approached Steve, warning him that if the boss saw him like this, he would be fired. Steve made no indication that he even understood, then leapt on Ted without warning. He bit into Ted's neck, ripping out veins while he screamed in horror. Blood began to pool everywhere, and without even thinking, Joseph grabbed his office chair, rushed up, and hit Steve as hard as he could. He flew off of him, but was up in seconds, and came after him. The look in his eyes was horrific, and Joseph hit him with the chair until he was absolutely sure Steve was dead.

In all the commotion, Ted had died from having his jugular ripped in half. One of the other office workers, Tammy Page, went to cover his body, when he suddenly jerked up. Seeming to come back from the dead, Ted bit deep into her leg, and Tammy fell. Ted began to eat on her, and Joseph was terrified. Within an hour, all of his co-workers had been turned into zombies. Now, they were all looking to eat him.

Joseph ran for his life, knocking over anything he could in an attempt to slow them down. Still, they kept on, and he dared not look back as he approached the emergency staircase. Then, something caught his eye. A red, glass case was mounted on the wall, and inside, was a fireman's axe. This was to be used in case a door was blocked during a fire. He smasshed the glass with his hand, the tiny pieces of glass biting into his hand.

As he removed the axe from the case, he thought that this was as good an emergency as any to use it. As a zombie approached, he swung the axe, sending its head into an adjacent wall. With a naked need to survive, Joseph began to hack at the zombies, always aiming for their heads. One thing Hollywood had always taught moviegoers was that the brain was the only weak spot of a zombie. Kill the brain, kill the zombie; simple as that. His suit stained with blood, Joseph left the enemies he had returned to the dead and bolted down the staircase.

Zombie Steve's handiwork was evident, as he was forced to cut down more zombies on his way to the parking garage. He took out his key and got in his car, thankful that the engine turned over. As he was about to tear out of there, the zombified parking attendant leapt upon his windshield. It beared its rotten teeth and began hitting the windshield. Punching the gas, he let the speedometer climb to fifty before he slammed on the brakes. The zombie flew off, busting its head on the concrete.

Joseph crushed its head with his tire for good measure, then drove through the pandemonium-laden streets on his way home.
"Please be all right," he said under his breath, referring to his wife and two kids at home.
As he squealed into the parking lot, he took his axe up to the door and opened it. The house was all clear, but then his wife, Cyndi, came tearing down the hall at him. The look in her eye and the blood around her mouth made it clear that she had been turned, but Joseph could not find it in himself to butcher the woman he had loved since high school. Crouching down, he threw the axe at her horizontally, tripping her up.

Retreating down the hall, Joseph ran into the master bedroom. Tears stung his eyes as he rifled through the closet, pulling out a shoebox with his .38 caliber pistol in it. Pulling it out, he loaded it and pulled back the hammer. As Cynthia came into the room, he turned to her.
"I'm sorry," he said with a cracking voice as he took aim and fired a single round into her head.
Her head jerked back, and she collapsed to the floor.

Joseph lowered the gun and hung his head, knowing that his work was not finished yet. If his wife had been turned, then his two children, eight-year-old Thomas and six-year-old Annie, had probably been turned, as well. Tears now completely blurred his vision, but he wiped them away. Moving into the living room, he headed down the hall into the kid's rooms. He opened Thomas' door, and found him sitting on his bed. The boy snarled at him, and Joseph took aim.

However, before he could take the shot, he felt his legs go out from under him. Annie had tackled him with strength far surpassing her size. As she prepared to bite into him, he took aim and fired once, killing her. However, Thomas was upon him, and Joseph's gun was knocked away. He got up and kicked his son back onto his bed. Thomas sprang back up, and leaped into the air as Joseph turned and fired.

Fear had caused him to keep pulling the trigger, even though the first shot had killed Thomas. When the gun could only offer an empty click, he staggered out of the room, and collapsed against the wall. He rested the barrel of the gun against his forehead and uttered heart-wrenching sobs. His whole life had been turned upside down, and now he had nothing. There was no job, no family, and no reason to keep going. All because of those...damn zombies.

His eyes opened and hardened in anger. He gritted his teeth and uttered a primordial scream of soul-shattering pain and unsuppressed rage. When he could scream no more, he found a reason to keep going. Those zombies had taken everything from him, but they had not taken his life. As long as he could yet draw breath, he would make them pay. Leaving the house and getting into his car, he promised himself and his family that he would annihilate every last zombie.

Joseph Young drove his car into the city, and found what he was looking for. He parked in front of the gun store, and rushed inside. The place was still fully stocked, and he grabbed a black gym bag and began stuffing it with weapons. He filled it with pistols and sub-machine guns, for they would be his sidearms. He also grabbed all of the ammo he could possibly want for them and placed them in the side pockets. After zipping the bag shut, he turned his attention to the big boys.

Automatic rifles, sniper rifles, and shotguns all lay before him, and he was going to take them all. He grabbed an M16 and loaded it with some ammo while sticking more ammo in the bag. It reminded him of his days in the Army, and he decided that this would be his main weapon. He set it down and packed an AK-47 in his bag, as well as a few other automatic rifles. A semi-automatic sniper rifle was loaded, and he slung it over his back. After loading shells into a SPAS-12 shotgun, he secured it around his waist.

After he had loaded up all the guns, he left the store and stowed them in the back seat. He kept the M16 in his passenger seat, in case he needed it. Now, it was time for him to get some new clothes, something that fit the new him. Joseph drove to the mall, and went inside. He was full expecting a Dawn of the Dead situation, and that was what he got. As soon as he went in, he could see zombies everywhere.

Setting the black bag down, he secured the gunbelt around his waist, and placed the M16 clips inside so that he could reload if he needed to. Staying in the crouch, he took aim with his M16 and fired, taking down a zombie. The others were alerted, but were not quick enough to avoid being gunned down by him. The Army had taught him to use three shot bursts. Now that his rage had reignited his military instincts, he only needed one. When every zombie he could see was dead, Joseph replaced the clips and went up the escalator.

He hit up the clothing store and changed into a pair of black combat boots, camouflaged jeans, a black tank top, and a black sash that he tied around his forehead. Looking into the mirror, he saw that he looked like Rambo, which was a very good thing. Looping the gunbelt through the belt loops, he gripped his M16 and left the store. Joseph proceeded down the escalator, and casually bumped off a few straggler zombies. Leaving the mall, he turned and proceeded down the sidewalk. Where he was concerned, the safety was off, and the war was on!

Rinovskane growled as he drove through the deserted streets of New York. The complex city was nothing but a hole of the zombie hordes now. He grinned to himself though. This is exactly what he had prepared all of his life for. He had bought thousand dollar equipment, and clothing to protect himself against the ravinous teeth of the undead. He felt pity for these creatures.

He pulled himself to a stop outside the building that peaked his interest in where to start....A large, multi-story office building. A large glass structure. Inside he could see shambling masses, that he was almost positive weren't survivors. He grinned. Throwing open the door of his jet black van, he slid out of the vehicle, and began to walk towards the back. Opening the bakc doors of the vehicle was a personal collection of weapons purchased with his parrent's wealth. He armed himself with his typical loadout, not expecting anything from the last batch of undead. He made sure each weapon was ready to fire as he slid them into their holster.

He then slowly walked to the front door, and into the front lobby. He held his C.T.A.R close in his grip, as his head rotated to view the full scans of the room. No zombies. He calmly jogged to the elevator, pressing the up button. Power still held in this building...just his luck. The elevator 'dinged' open and he stepped inside, to find the interior smeared with blood. "Fantastic taste in decoration." The man said to himself. He stepped inside, his combat boots clapping against the pools of blood inside the elevator. He pressed the next button up.

He let his assualt rifle dangle from it's sling on his back, as he reached behind him, and readied his close range primary weapon: The Korean knockoff of the AA-12, the Daewoo USAS-12. He pulled it out, and held it as he prepared to fire it from his hip. The door opened with a click and the familiar dinging sound he had heard earlier. As the doors pulled open, his brown eye caught movement...every zombie in tthe room's head turned to face whatever made the annoying buzzer sound. Gripping the shotgun tighter, the Romanian stepped out with a grin plastered on his face. "Enjoy, you shambling shitbags." He said before pulling the trigger once, blasting the one closest proximity to him. The zombie almost went flying backwards from the cluster shot of the Zombie Slayers shotgun.

The other walking flesh puppets began to shamble and run towards Rinovskane. He waited untill each got a good 20 feet from him, before unleashing hell in the form of shotgun buckshot. Each infected individual accepted their prize of missing limbs and large, large hunks of flesh ripped from their form, in addition to meeting the floor. The zombies hissed and growled at him as the all crowded around him, only to be blasted away by his boomstick. Blood splashed forth from the extreme wounds dealt by the Zombie Hunter, onto his trenchcoat. It didn't bother him in the slightest. The deep red blood of zombies almost fueled his rage.

He emptied the drum magazine in the Auto-shotgun, it clicking empty loudly. Now, the zombies closed in around him, with no more destructive shotgun rounds. But he wasn't worried in the slightest. A zombie curved around a few cubicles and tried to grab him from the side. He sharply, almost roboticly, turned on his heels ,and slammed the pressed-steel stock into the zombie's body, his strike pushing the zombie back. He came back to stand his full stature after a spin, holding the empty drum magazine in his hand. Looking to his other side, he saw a zombie charging him from that direction. Rino curled his arm, and flung the empty drum at the charging zombie like a discus, the heavy metalic magazine hitting it's head with a thud.

Rino then let his shotgun dangle from its sling, tossing it behind his back. He then reached inside his massive trenchcoat, and pulling a weapon from it's holster with a snap. His Russian machine pistol was next to ring out death for the undead. The small, but speedy .32 APC round ripped straight through the zombie flesh, as he peppered their body with the Skorpion. Each zombie came toward the small but rapid fire river of death. Soon too, though, was this weapon too empty, even with it's custom drum magazines. Once it clicked empty, the Romanian's hand flew forward, hitting the clip release, letting the metal magazine hit the floor with heavy clinks and clanks.

The next zombie encroached him, only to be greeted with a fierce spinning pistol whip to it's face, spinning it around as well, before sending it back in the direction it shambled from. he reached to his chest, and pulled another small, circular magazine from it, snapping it under the hot machine pistol, and pulling it's miniscule lever back. It again revved up in burst fire as more zombies fell as the dashed at the Romanian man. Rino walked forward, into the blood and gore of his slaughter, still having a few zombies left to deal with.

He holster the skorpion, not bothering to reload as his arm instinctively shot for the next weapon on his body: His VZ-75. He drew the silver pistol from its holster, and pointed it at the closest zombie as it charged him. The trigger was pulled and the loud pistol was fired in a three round burst, all three bullets hitting it's target, and causing extreme damage. Almost being as large as the .45 ACP, the .40 S&W round wasn't afraid to send the zombies to church, and make they holey. it caused the target, to stumble backwards. As it fell, he placed another two shots to it's head, a miss and a hit, but for good measure.

Following the last was another zombie that gnashed his teeth and swung his clawed hands at Rinovskane. At point blank, and full auto, the Czech pistol made almost literall swiss cheese of the infected individual, putting ten holes that drun up his body and eventually to it's head. Getting splattered with the cold, dead lifefluid again, he lifted his boot, and pressed off on the limp zombie's chest, causing it to tumble to the ground. He then emptied the remaining five rounds into a zombie. Again, almost like an instant reflex, as if he had been counting the shots as they were expelled, he reached to his hip, and pulled out another magazine for the pistol, sliding it in, and chaimbering the first shot. But the Czech death spitter was reholstered...the was only four zombies that he could see left in the room...

He reached to his right thigh, pulling out his .357 magnum with an eight inch barrel. Rino pulled the hammer back on the weapon, and the air was filled with the heavy thud of the round breaking the sound barrier, and the explosion the gun created when firing. The zombie it hit was decimated, the corpse loosing one of it's limbs, and a good hunk of it's body. The magnum round easily ripped through rotting flesh and bone. Another target was lined up with tthe man's sights, and again, the revolving hand cannon summoned the reaper on the undead monstrosity. It's head was blown so cleanly through that he could see the cubicle on the other side of the infected.

The other four shots came from the revolver rapid fire, two into each zombie, the outlaw's favorite weapon turning the undead into meat nuggets as it blew them apart. Rino walked forward, flipping his revolver open with the flick of his wrist, dumping all the of the expended cartridges from the gun, before reaching down to his thigh and pulling out an autoloader...he causually stuck it in, before clipping the revolver closed.

He turned some cubicals in the office building, looking for any more of the undead. Unfortunately, he wasn't aware of as soon as he walked around the corner, one would pounce him. It fell uponst him, and began to tear at his trenchcoat, his deadened nails raking across the material. Rino had dropped his revolver, and was now using his strength to keep the jaws of unlife from clamping down on his flesh. He curled his lower body into a ball, and pressed both feet to the zombie's chest. He roared with rage, launching the zombie off of him, and stumbling to the ground. Rino pushed himself up off the ground, and reached to his boot, retrieving his trench spike. He grinned as he stomped towards the zombie, which was stumbling to it's feet as well, before he brought his covered knuckle to meet it's face. A sickening, bonecrushing crack filled the air, and the undead man fell backwards. He repeated the process a few times, laughing each time the zombie got up. "You are having no idea when to quit, you bastard." He said, his romanian accent showing.

This time, as he slobberknocked the zombie back, his punch fell into a crouch. He knelt down, drawing one of his wicked boot knives. Pinching the blade with his thumb and index finger, his arm jolted behind his head, and flung the weapon at the zombie. The blade whirled through the air, whistling as it sliced through emptiness when it hit the zombie's eye. The infected man hissed and stumbled back even more. Wasting no time, he figured it was time to end this fight.

The romanian dashed full speed (actually a moderate jog in all of his gear) towards the zombie, and stopping perhaps a yard shy of him, brought his leg up in a vicious boot to the chest. The zombie was launched back, and slammed against the glass of the building's boundry...but didn't stop there. The glass shattered , and the zombie fell to it's assumed death. Rino walked to the edge of the building, looking out of the exit he created. He smiled, and looked around the city. So much fun to be had...and this is only a start. he thought. He turned on his heels, and walked back into the room. Retreiving his revolver, and reholstering it, he looked around at the damage he caused. Roughly fifty zombies dead. And he still had plentiful ammounts of ammo and strength left. This was going to be one hell of a vacation!

As Joseph continued to move down the sidewalk, he shot down any zombie he could find. The selector lever on his M16 was set to three-round burst capability, but he would need only one bullet for these creatures, especially since they were close-up. Holding the rifle reminded him of his days in the US Army, taking cover behind walls and firing at the unseen enemy. He was never sure which minute would be his last. After he was honorably discharged, he thought that those days were over. But now, as he squeezed the trigger to kill a much worse enemy, he realized that he was just as enmeshed in war as before.

Mayu Akira an japanese war veteran from the world war 2 was sitting on the roof of an small house taking an rest after his meal and looking on the zombies on the ground patroling around. Mindless freaks that wants to consume all but he wouldnt allow that yes he is very old but stubborn as an old goat he is. He picked out his old gun counting the ammo left inside '' ooh only four shots left! that not be good'' he shot all of his shots at an zombie just for fun and trew the gun at it but the zombie was to stupid to realise he threw them from up there. Akira didnt know how to kill them he just slashed them to pieces with his katana. he waited and waited to see something alive to come but he waited for days and only heard gunshots that disappeared with time he guesed those who had suvive at first was all probably dead by now but he keept waiting for with no ammo left he can only wait the zombies were faar to many to fight close, in the closeby he counted up to about seven zombies at the streets and one inside the building he sat on, he had blocked the way up soo he felt safe and finaly can have his napp ''Zzz''

Robin Slate hissed as she pulled up to a gass station, her only mode of transport WAS a motorbike, but thanks to some brain-dead zombie the wheel's were torn to peices, "god damn it!" she yelled, kicking it, it was useless now, she glanced around, a few zombies were closing in, she pulled out her AK47, which made short work of them, 'good thing I raided the police station,' she thought shaking her head, if she didn't no dout she'd of died by now.

She stuck a hand in her messenger-bag and stroked her kitten's head, Doom purred and nuzzled against Robin's fingers. Robin sighed and looked around again, "I need another car or bike or truck or skateboard or something," Robin mumbled to herself, she saw nothing of the sort that wasn't smashed up and covered in blood, sighing one more time, she started walking down the street.

She flicked down the viser of her helmet and held her riot sheald infront of her, a zombie crashed into it, she quickly spinned and kicked it in the stomach, sending it flying back, she then pulled out her gun and shot it in the head, twice, alway's remember to 'double tap', it could save you one day.

She walked down gloomy street after gloomy street, shattered remains of people's homes, businesses and lives... Robin shook her head to rid herself of depression thoughts, emotion now, could very well be the end of her. She glanced up at the buildings, window's smashed and walls painted in blood... all but one.

She ran over to a window, the house looked fine on the inside, perfect to stay in for the night, she went around the back, shooting a zombie as she went. She tried to open the back door, locked, she began trying to kick it open, barricated... She listened for a second, snoring? on the roof? She frowned, okay someone was here... but who would sleep on the roof in the middle of a zombie invasion?

"Hey!" She called up to whoever was on the roof, "Let me in please!" she added, walking back around to the front, hopefully whoever lived here would be kind enough to let her stay the night.

Rino looked down from the destroyed window, the stronger wind from higher altitude made his trenchcoat flutter in the wind...this city was doomed. But to him, it was a playground. He started to turn, when he saw a man walking down the street with...an M-16? Just strolling down the sidewalk like it was a sunny day outside. The romanian almost could believe his eyes.

He reached down to his thigh holster, redrawing his revolver. This time, he flipped it around. Gasping it by it's nickle plated barrel, he smashed it against the window next to him, shattering the glass, hoping to draw the man's attention. "Idiot! What are you thinking you are doing! Hurry, get your ass up here! Go go! Elevator is still powered! Second floor!" He walked away, growling.

He walked to the elevator, and reholstered his revolver and crossing his arms, letting his weapons dangle from him, withing for his new guest.

''haaah talking zombie?'' he looked out the window and saw the still alive human and shouted ''ahh suvivor you want in? it be dangerous in there''
the old man entered the roofdoor climbing down and draw his katana. He remembered he had left an zombie in here and correct he was for from the corner of the wall an zombie was rushing against him. the old man was very old and not as strong as he usualy were but chopped the head of the zombie with no problem. After killing the zombie he removed the blockades and opened the door ''come in come in quick litle girl i got food for you yo not bitten are yoo?''

Joseph turned his head, aiming his M16 in that direction. He fully expected to see a zombie come busting out a window, but instead, it was just a man in a trench coat. The man apparently had wanted to get his attention, and chastised him for 'being an idiot'. The man insisted that he come up to the second floor. Joseph did not want to stop his direct assault on the zombies, but knowing what was up the street before it was on top of him was a good idea. After checking to make sure that the coast was clear, he rushed across the street to the elevator.

Pressing the button for the second floor, the door shut and he rode it up. When the door opened, he walked across the floor to the man. Judging by the amount of zombie corpses on the floor, the man had been quite busy indeed. He was Russian, according to his accent, and he seemed to have a no-nonsense attitude. In other words, he was a potential ally. Joseph hooked his M16 to his gunbelt and pulled the sniper rifle from behind his back, crouching down to take aim.

"Mind telling me why you chose to interrupt my private war?" he asked, as he looked through the scope.
As expected, there were zombies up ahead, and about ten of them. It was nothing his M16 couldn't have handled, but a sniper rifle was just as good. When a zombie's head was in the center of the crosshairs, he pulled the trigger. This alerted the zombies, but he was a proficient sniper, and they were unable to do anything before he had dropped all of them.
After he was satisfied that he had killed all of the zombies in the immediate vicinity, he stood up and turned to the Russian.

"I think you should also tell me who you are and whether or not you've been bitten by these zombies."
He slung the rifle over his back and pierced him with the hard eyes of a veteran soldier. This man seemed to know what he was doing when it came to the disposal of the undead, but he couldn't be sure. The apocalypse brings out the worst in people. Those who aren't dead or terrified can become scavengers or murderers, preying on other survivors for their own survival. Joseph had to know if he could trust this man before anything more could be said.

"Thank you," Robin nodded a greeting, stepping inside, "and no, no bites," she added quickly, she's seen what bites can do, her own boss tried to eat her fleash after getting bitten by one of the cooks, she was at the cafe when it started, good thing there were plenty of kinfes around... Robin shook her head 'no emotion, it'll kill you,' she thought bitterly.

She looked around and saw the dead zombie, she stepped forward and dragged it out into the street and shot a couple more before going back inside, "Didn't want it to attract more to this house... that and they stink..." She said to the man, she blinked before holding out her hand "I'm Robin Slate, please to meet you," she said remembering her manners at last.

''me Mayu Akira this my house i got food in the fridge if you want food you must be caeful i keep chemicals there that not wants light they might explode''
Akira closed the door after she came in and he was on his way to his nap up on the roof and said to her
''come roof be safest no other houses close right here so they cant fall down on us and they cant climb its perfect, Got any guns to spare? mine went out of amunition i shot the same zombie four times but you kill them with your gun soo easy my onlt way is slashing them up''
on his way to the roof he went to the fridge and took out an bottle who seemd to be filled with green chemicals, he went upp and sat down in his chair

"oh, you have to destroy the head," Robin stated "That's the easiest way to kill them off," she said after listening to what he had said, Robin followed him onto the roof "unfortuantly I have no other weapons, but a knife, a lighter and some fuel, that I picked up from the station a little while back," she added.

Once on the roof she put the bag on the ground, signaling to her cat that it was safe to come out now, Doom mewed and crawled out onto the roof, streching, her black coat shinning in the sun, Robin sat down and scratched the kitten's ears, listing to her purr

''ooh'' he responded, thought all the cats were eaten by now. Most of them walks back to theur dead owned and gets eaten
''and you got fuel what kind of fuel ive discovered fire can keep them away an short distance but the zombie inside my house. Was my assistant he used up all the fuel to keep them away but ran out of it and got himself bitten. I wish he hadnt used all of it i need fuel for an car''

Robin smiled "Well I was planning on making bomb's with it, but I guess a car is a little more useful," she said, she took out a fairly large container "Think this'll be enough?" She asked. Doom mewed and wondered to the edge of the roof, staring out at the undead, she clearly didn't know what was happening, Robin picked her up and put the cat on her shoulder.

The man got up to his floor. He looked like any other american...but had a frew different twinges to him. His greeting was rather rude, but, Rino was not very polite about anything, either. So it wasn't like he cared.

"I chose to intervene because you are eventually going to get bitten. I am not wishing that upon you." Rino stated, with a stout look on his face.

"My name is Rinovskane Traveint, Romanian Expert on undead removal." He said, offering the man his hand. "And if had been bitten, I would've splattered my brains across the wall along time ago." He offered. He opened up his trenchcoat, showing his weapons and the outline of his armor. "But I am thinking that Zombies are not being able to bite through Kevlar. You?" he said. It almost sounded like he was being funny, but there wasn't a trace of a smile on his face.

"I am here to do training. Nothing being better than real life training. But I might as well save a few people while I am being here." The eyepatched man said.

Joseph's eyes narrowed as the man said that he would be bitten.
"You underestimate me. No zombie is going to get anywhere near me as long as I'm packing this."
He made a motion, indicating his M16.
The man introduced himself as some expert on undead removal, then offered his hand. Joseph ignored it.

"Just call me the Zombie Killer."
When the man said that he would have blown his brains out if he had been bitten, Joseph shook his head.
"That wouldn't have been enough. The infection that these things carry spread works even if the body is dead. It reanimates the corpse, and you become one of the undead. Killing yourself or having someone else kill you before you turn only speeds up the process."

The man opened his trenchcoat, revealing weapons and Kevlar body armor. He made what sounded like a joke, but Joseph's face stayed dark.
"I wouldn't think so, but I also wouldn't want to risk it."
The man said he was here to do training, almost like it was some military exercise. The man then continued to display his arrogance by claiming that he had "saved" Joseph. He had had enough.

"Look Traveint, I know you think you're some hotshot undead specialist, but believe it or not, you're not the only one who knows how to kill these things. You didn't save me, as I only came up here to get a birds-eye view of what was ahead."
Joseph looked out the broken window.
"So, you have two options. Option one, you can team up with me and help me dispose of these creatures. Option two, we can part ways and kill these things off individually. Make your choice, and quickly."

Rino looked at the man. He called himself a "Zombie Killer". Well, anyone could point and shoot a gun accurately, and the man seemed to know what he was doing, aside from acting like a complete badass. But, the man said something that made Rino completely lose all seriousness...and bust out laughing. Nothing hysterical, but almost like a mocking laugh

"You underestimate me. No zombie is going to get anywhere near me as long as I'm packing this." Said the man.

The romanian laughed. "HAhahahaaaa! You are good friend. But no matter how good you may be, you will never be near as good with that piece of fucking shit. The M-Shitsteen is being the worst assault rifle ever produced! Underpowered, overcomplicated piece of garbage! You will think you are invincible, untill your M-Shitsteen jams, and you have to spend 5 minutes unjamming the thing with the SPECIALIZED unjamming kit...which you don't seem to have!" The romanian barked out.

"Save YOU? True, I call you up here, but to be talking to you. Not to be acting like hero. You are armed with gun. You stride down the streets like Sylvester Stalone. Simply is called "Helping Hand" in Romania. But I am forgetting how most Americans love conflict so much they start things with their comrades if they get bored." He spoke again, his seriousness resumed. "But I am tell you what. You have made me laugh, something I've not done in a long time. Come. Come. We go back down to my van. Get you a real rifle, instead of that hunk of plastic you believe is your savior." Rino said, walking towards the elevator.

Akira stared surprised over the large container
''that be more than enought we can get out of the city in no time with this''
Akira raised the bottle with the green chemicals and threw it on an zombie, it started to melt down with haste
''ooh look at that hes melting liek an icecream! yohohoo now shall we pack and get an car?''

"sounds like an idea," Robin said, watching the zombie melt, "I guess I could use the spare fuel to make the bombs," She added, her thoughts else where, she just recognised one of the mauled bodys, a woman... her sister.

Robin bit her lower lip, making a small trickle of blood run down her pale skin, she took aim, pointing her gun directly at the zombies head "goodbye... sister," Robin whispered before pulling the trigger, instantly killing the zombie.

Akira picked out an remote out of his pocket and pressed one of ita buttons. Not far away an car clicked open, the car was old but in perfect condition
''shall we go then? oh maybe not right now'' it had come more zombies groaning an bashing the door it seems they were drawn out of the closeby houses when they heard the car click
''damn old car now iwe need to get out of here they will get trought the door soon we must leave''

Joseph was surprised when the man began to laugh. He could see no reason to laugh, until he realized that his gun was the object of ridicule. Joseph's face darkened as he took the man's insults. He should have expected that this man would have the typical European mindset: everything European was far superior to anything American-made, simply because it was European. Joseph let the man finished his bit. He then looked him dead into the eyes.

"Maybe the M16 is the worst assault rifle ever produced, but it's never let me down before. That rifle saved my life and the life of my comrades more times than I care to remember. On top of that, it's never jammed on me as you described, but maybe that was because I took better care of it than most. Besides..."
Joseph looked away for a minute, and his eyes softened a bit.
"It reminds me of a better time."

His eyes hardened again and he turned back to Rino.
"Well, I would appreciate a helping hand. I would also like to rescue any civilians, if they haven't all been turned by now. So take me to your van and let's get me equipped with this so-called superior rifle. Know, however, that no weapon is a savior. A real soldier knows that the mind is the greatest weapon."

Joseph strided over to the elevator and pressed the call button. In a few minutes, the doors opened and he stepped inside. He clipped his M16 onto his belt and waited for his Romanian ally to step inside. The war against the zombies could now resume.

The romanian nodded, retaking his seemingly serious tone. He walked into the elevator with the man. The small elevator was barely big enough for the both of them to be ready to fire upon the doors opening. So Rino's knees bent as he crouched in front of Joseph, so he could still fire over him. Rino was greeted with the sound of the elevator dinging open. His head peered out around the sides, before standing up, and walking towards the entry. He reached behind him, and gripped his Auto-Shotgun, reaching inside his cloak to pull another hefty drum for the gun, snapping it in place, and pulling the cocking lever back. He let it sling around his back again, reaching the front door, and pushing them open. Surprisingly, there weren't any of the dead wondering around...

He looked over to his ban, a plain black vehicle that looked the opposite of inconspicous. He walked to the back, which was guarded and locked by the biggest lock you could imagine. He reached to his pants, digging out a lone bronze key, and stabbing it in the lock, before it snapped open with a twist of his wrist. Pulling the doors open, inside was near a private aresonal. The first thought was probably "How on Earth did he get this stuff into the U.S.?"

He stepped inside the van into a low crouch, before turning to face the man again. "What do you want in your rifle? Firepower, reliability, accuracy, fire rate...?" He started before motioning the man to come in the van.

Robin smiled at the idea of escape, holding Doom close to her, but at the sound of zombies she frowned, she picked up her gun and aimed, blasting several zombie heads to peices, making them fall to the ground, dead for the second time. "How do you suggest we get out of here?" Robin asked, seeing more zombies comming this way, at the sound of a gun and the smell of blood no dout, "I'm kinda running low on ammo here, so the front door isn't much of an option," she added.

''yohoho were trapped we cannot go anywhere but upp or the zombies must begone''
He looked up and and made an annoyed face. He turned back to robin and said with an calm voice
''upp isnt possible we have to defeat them''

Robin pulled her kinfe from her bag, "hopefully this will work," she murmured, looking down at the zombies, her put Doom back in her bag, she didn't want her kitten to get eaten or run off, Doom was all she'd had in the way of family for a long time and no way in hell was she gonna lose her now.