Elizabeth Dawson's Story

When the screams started letting loose Zac dropped his usual attitude. Jokes wouldn't save them from the damn psycho's outside, and a gun would be pretty much useless right now, and when Luca asked for a gun; he wasn't jumping up to give away his baby. Yang had gotten him out of some pretty hairy situations. He couldn't believe how panicky people got when certain death surrounded them in obvious ways. He reached under his shirt and grabbed his necklace. He rubbed it three times and put it away. He wasn't really the religious type, but in times of great peril or need; God always had an open ear... and an empty heart.

"I need someone NOW!!!!"

Zacs' head shot up when the driver yelled at them, he had no clue what the guy wanted and had no intention of finding out. He was kind of relieved when he saw Jenifer walk up there. When Alex made her way up there, he wasn't to happy about that. She didn't make him want to shove screwdrivers in his ears, yet. That's when everyone started brandishing guns, 'Great, not only do I have to worry about getting eaten, now I have to worry about getting hit with a ricochet too. F#@K ME.' Zac muttered to himself.

"A gun won't be of any use inside here, by the way your shaking you might end up doing more harm than good. The less guns we have floating around the better."

The older man was the one who spoke. Zac couldn't have agreed more. He tried to resist the urge to grab Yang. The worst possible thing he could think of was the truck hitting something and started rolling, and with that all of the guns with the safeties off. It would be like the 4th of July in the truck.

"Would everybody calm down, we're in a metal truck going at least going 40. The only possible way the psycho's could enter is through the doors and they're locked," Zac didn't add the part about them probably being locked from the outside. That sure as hell wouldn't have helped morale. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and stuck one in his mouth. He didn't light it. The smoke would only irritate people more. For now only having the thing in his mouth was all he needed.

In his little dream, Jeff thought he could finally get away from all the troubles that had always been clinging onto him like a koala and finally be able to rest easily like when he did back during the days. Oh how he missed the days when he could smile freely everyday, without giving a care to anything nor anyone but his family at all. Now the times has changed, and he was sure as hell that this isn't the time for him to be reminiscing the past. Now, he had to concentrate on getting his daughter and probably the people here to safety.

The intense wails and cries of both the living and the non-living just increases the tension in the metallic truck, and he knew that he had to somehow calm everyone down, one way or another. When Luca asked him for a gun, he was about to tell him no, Beth went ahead and passed him her gun. Then she asked for a gun from Jeff. He quickly had Beth sit back down, and rested her hands on her laps. "Dear, we won't need a gun for now. If the worst comes, I'll give you one. But for now, it's awfully cramped inside here and with the safety off, any accident would mean a life gone, and a bullet wasted. Just calm down. I'm sure our driver is getting us to safety. Let's not stress him any more." He told her, making sure that everyone heard him.

Alex and Jenifer had already went to the front of the truck to help. However, Jenifer was approached by one of them when a man pulled her back and shot it. But it was expected when the driver pushed those back into the truck. Alex was the only one who was with the driver, and Jeff assumed that the driver needed her help. He stood up, hung on to the wall to prevent him from falling, and walked to the driver seat. Along the way, he had the panicking Luca sat down and turned the safety off.

"How far until we get to the next safe-house, Alex?" He questioned the girl who sat beside the driver who clearly wore like a military. He recognized it thanks to him past experience in military. Judging from his clothing, he's a Sergeant. But he ignored that and concentrated on getting himself balanced and on the answer he was about to get from Alex.

"Just try and keep them calm."

Jeff slightly patted Alex's shoulders. His old and wrinkly hands somehow had a fatherly feel to it. "You focus on helping the Sergeant getting us to safety. I'll deal with the ones in the back." He turned to the Sergeant, who was giving all he got towards driving to their destination. "Sergeant, don't worry about us. I know you're more than stress enough already, so focus on driving and once we've reach safety, we'll give everything we got to secure the place. You'll need rest after this."

The shriek had worried him. It might have been one of the passengers and they might do something reckless. Even worse, his daughter is in trouble. [I need to calm everyone down. Why can't an old man have a time to relax? Youngsters these days don't know how to calm themselves down.] He sighed and turned around. He found a small dent near the entrance which was probably caused by that walker earlier. The ones sitting near it is probably terrified by that and caused the shriek. It was a mother and her young daughter. "Don't worry. We're reaching safety as we speak. I just need you all to calm down and survive. The driver is stressed enough as he is already." The mother is probably is still scared by the walkers outside, but she is doing everything she can to calm her daughter down.

"I need people who knows they can fight to stay alert. The moment we reach the safe-house, we need to secure a path for the passengers in here to safety. It might be a lot to ask, but I hope you can do it. Those who don't think they can fight or shoot these bastards, try to stay calm." As if his old habits came back, Jeff starting giving out instructions. It wasn't his intention to give orders, but because of this situation he was placed in and because he is probably the oldest one in the group, he need not to worry the others because of his age. Hopefully, the passengers heeds his instructions and stay calm. [All of us are tired already. I'm sure they need someone to help calm themselves down. This might piss some of the young ones here, but I'm doing this for my daughter.] He gripped his fist tightly. [This is all for the safety of my daughter and my grandson.]

Sergeant Henderson

Henderson gritted his teeth as he nodded to the girl, showing her that he had hear her. Once he was certain he was on the right track he did his best to tune the rest of them out which proved to only make the undead seem even louder. Gunner was between him and the girl now, eyes huge as he stared into the darkness.

"Mother of pearl..." Henderson swore to himself as he swerved around a swarm of undead that loomed suddenly from the darkness. He was certain that their numbers were dropping off though and he hadn't seen an abandoned truck in some time, hopefully they were still clustered around what remained of the last convoy.

He was impressed by his navigators nerve and had to admit some grudging admiration to himself, if they got through this in one piece he would buy her a beer, or dinner, whatever the hell she wanted. She was certainly doing her best to keep the rest of the passengers quiet which was more than he could do at the moment.

Exit 112 appeared on his right and he turned carefully, negotiating a black Lincoln town car that was flipped on its roof. The undead were scarce now and he felt himself relaxing slightly. It was a big mistake.

As the truck crested the exit he suddenly found his entire field of vision filled with undead that swung towards him as one giant creature. They filled the road from verge to verge and vanished into the darkness beyond the beams of his headlights.

"Hang on!" He roared, spinning the wheel to the left, taking the heavy truck into a 90 degree turn that must have had them standing high on only two wheels.

He mashed his foot down on the accelerator and the trucks engine screamed in protest as he plunged off the road and into the fields on the side of the road. He knew at once that they were in trouble as the heavy truck began to sink into the field, its wheels spinning and screaming in protest.

"Mother f**cker..." He muttered, the words turning into a shout of alarm as the ground in front of him vanished. He tried to hammer on the brakes but he was a second to slow and the truck heaved itself over the edge and into a deep ditch half filled with water.

The crash jerked him forward, the seatbelt preventing him from slamming face first into the metal bars as water poured in through the windows. He quickly snapped the belt, booted the door open and, with Gunner in tow, launched himself into the cold water. For a moment he feared a hand grasping at his ankle but nothing came. He looked back at the truck, its taillights burning like beacons in the darkness, the screams of the passengers inside loud in the night.

He could leave them, make his way into the woods and wait for an air evac, it would be easy. For one long moment he was tempted but then Gunner barked, grabbing his attention as the dog bounded towards the truck. He dragged himself from the creek and raced to the back of the truck, the moans of the undead getting louder, and threw the doors open, he never would know why they were locked from the outside.

"Come on, move!" He shouted at the terrified faces, turning and crouching to fire at the first of the undead that came from the darkness. There were only a few but the horde wouldn't be far behind. "Shotgun is still racked in the front, grab it if you can!"

"Hang on!"

The call came too late for Luca and soon he found himself thrown about the back of the truck like a rag doll. Water began pouring in through the window and it leaked in through the gaps of the doors.

Everything hurt, everything was loud and just when he thought he couldn't get any more scared.. it happened. Were they going to drown? Where was the driver? He managed to find his pack and he gripped it, clinging to it as if it would save him or something.

They were going to die here. Drown, or get eaten by those things. He knew it!

He clambered off of... whoever it was he'd been thrown on to, and scrambled to the doors. As he raised his hands to start pounding on them in a futule effort, they swung open and the driver stood there with the undead stumbling towards them.

"Come on, move!"

A shot was fired and Luca's ears rang, but he didn't have to be told twice. That truck was a death trap for sure, and even though they were surrounded by the infected... they probably wouldn't die quite so fast. Once he was out, he turned and helped the others get out of the truck.

Now he regretted putting that pistol down.

After being forced out of the cabin where the driver was, Jenifer just stood where she was, unknowingly squeezing Jack's arm the whole time. The panic completely blinded her from what was going on for a moment, only noticing Jeffrey rush past Jack and her and into the driver's cabin.

For a short moment, all Jenifer could feel was calmness. Maybe the horror finally got to her; Jenifer ceased breathing heavily and let go of Jack's arm. She looked around the truck, seeing the terrified expressions on most of the people in truck eighteen. I'm going to die, thought Jenifer. That sudden burst of soothing emotion ended when the truck viciously swerved. Screaming, Jenifer fell face-first onto the ground, busting her lip.

"What's going on!" cried Jenifer as she turned herself over, too afraid to pick herself up. The truck was being maneuvered wildly. The driver must have seen something alarming to cause the vehicle to drive unstably. Sounds of the driver's fierce, uninterpretable words flew out of the driver's cabin. Jenifer couldn't help but shriek due to the horrifying climax of the situation.

Suddenly, the truck felt as if it was flying in air. The ground underneath it disappeared. Jenifer's screams became louder as the truck made impact with water, the inside of the vehicle beginning to flood. She finally pulled herself off the ground and pushed through the many people dashing to the only exit of the truck. Luca scrambled to the doors and raised his hands, looking as if he was about to pound of them. Jenifer only then realized that they were locked from the outside.

The doors flew open. The driver was there, yelling for everybody to move on out of the truck. Roamers were behind him. Jenifer shoved everybody out of her way and dashed to the doors, lending her hand to the driver so that he could assist her out.

"Help me out," she demanded to the driver. Even in the predicament she was in, Jenifer was not just going to jump into freezing water. She was going to gently be let off, and what happened after that was completely up to the people who were brave enough to face the living dead approaching them.

Beth knew she was being stupid, asking her father for a gun when they were squashed in a tiny truck - Too many things could go wrong, but she just couldn't help it, Beth would do everything and anything to insure her father and child their safety.

"Hang on!"
Beth just managed to grab onto the underside of her seat she was sitting on before the truck swerved, Luca bolted and was thrown hard around the truck.
Water started to leak in and Beth finally excepted that this was it, she was going to die.

Then the doors opened, the Driver was there, yelling at them to get out. Beth's ears were still ringing and she jumped from the truck, feeling a sharp pain shoot up her leg, she had no time to worry about that now.

Suddenly Beth found herself standing in a little lake and then realised it might not be a lake of water, they were standing in the middle of the infected's feeding ground, or that's what it felt like.
Beth then held out her hand, to help her father down and watched as Jenifer demanded the driver give her a hand out.
Good God that girl infuriated her, why is she demanding help out? I'm not and I'm pregnant for crying out loud Beth though bitterly, sort of wishing she had asked someone for help out; the pain was back, but this time, more centred around her stomach.

Beth could only pray her child make it. She would be shattered if the only thing [besides her Father] that kept her fighting back; kept her trying to survive, died.

☣ Alexandria "Alex" Owens ☣

---

She looked into the clouded eyes of the undead, appearing out of no where through the eerie darkness. Her own eyes widened, looking at the sergeant with an uneasy expression.

"Hang on!" He exclaimed, jolting the steering wheel to the left. The truck tilted off of its balance.

Her heart began to race. Alex clutched onto the arm rests as the truck spun off the road. The vehicle plunged into a field, the truck now battered and damaged beyond fixing. Water began to seep through the cracks and crevasses of the van, flooding over Alex's feet. Her breathing became labored as fear struck the inside of her heart.

"Shit!" She thought with panic. Now was not a good time for an asthma attack.

The sergeant slammed on the brakes, only sending them farther down into the water with a deep crash. Alex jolted forward as her feet dangled above the invisible ground beneath her. The seat belt dug into her neck, preventing her from going through the windshield. She gasped for air once more as the agitation increased.

The sergeant had managed to escape with the snapping of his belt. Alex did the same, propelling herself off of the metal bars below her. She quickly grabbed onto the handle of the door, flinging it open as she climbed her way out. Water surged past her, forcing her grip to loosen.

"Come on, move!" The sergeant barked at the back of the vehicle, his hand motioning for everyone to evacuate.

Alex heard the cries of the infected become louder as the seconds rolled on. Her breathing was still strained. She couldn't comprehend how the asthma attack had to happen at this instant. Couldn't it wait? She forced her way up through the truck as the others escaped in front of her. Luca was helping the passengers get out, along with the sergeant.

She coughed, straining her way up the walkway towards the exit. Her fingertips tightened against the pistol, which was now more like a body part, in case of any danger approaching. Most likely, there probably was.

Alex looked up at the exit; she glimpsed Beth and Luca (who was continuing to help the others) outside the truck. At least Alex knew some of the others had made it to safety. She wondered if Zac, Jeff, and Jack were alright. She could already hear Jenifer's obnoxious voice ask the sergeant for help, so she was guessing she had at least made it out alive.

Eventually, Alex had managed to finally reach the exit, pushing her way out of the disastrous truck and into the creek. Survivors trudged around the crash sight, distraught of what to do next. She watched as distressed expressions populated her vision. She wanted to help, but unfortunately, Alex had problems of her own. The asthma attack had gotten worse as a result of the panic. She had difficulty breathing as she focused on calming herself, but the pain in her chest had enlarged. She flung her backpack off of her shoulders, desperately searching for an inhaler.

"Please let it be here..." She thought with desperation.

She rummaged through her bag until the inhaler came into view. Lurching onto it as if it would disappear, she forced the medicine into her mouth. It circulated through her lungs, making it a little less challenging to breathe; it was easier now, but she still strained.

She looked up from the inhaler, focusing her attention on what had just taken place. Her eyes viewed the sight of dismayed, confused people. What were they going to do now? All she could hear were the moans and cries of approaching Roamers. She put her finger on the trigger of her pistol, pulling it closer to herself.

When was it that he finally had the time to relax? He don't know it himself. It's probably days or weeks ago but to him, it felt like forever. The times where birds chirped happily and innocent children runs around the streets sounded like harmony to him now, even though he thought it was a pain back then. What had it all became? Thousands of walkers now replaced the children on street and the moaning and wails of them replaced the chirps. Back then, he was too naive. Way too naive. He thought his days would never come to an end. Boy, was he ever so wrong. Hours ago, they were joking happily. Minutes ago, they had a small shining glitter of hope. Now, it was all probably history.

The crash was probably what worried him the most. When the truck crashed, the thought of his daughter getting hurt roamed all around his head. Death was probably something much less worse than seeing two people; both his family, die right in front of him. He can feel water slowly filling the truck, and at the same time, he could hear the driver rushing out his door since he was close to the driver seat. Alex got out later, and in mere seconds, the back door flung open, along with Luca, who was thrown to the back of the truck by the crash. The Sergeant and Luca quickly helped escorted the passengers, and Jenifer demanded help from them. He couldn't blame her. Most humans tend to be eager to save their lives instead of others. Beth was out already, and she already had reached out her hands to save Jeff.

Jeff really wanted to take that hand. He really do. But if his daughter is safe, he doesn't have anything else to worry about other than the walkers outside. He quickly helped the other passengers inside out by pushing them up, and slowly, they got out successfully with the help of Sergeant and the others. "Go, Jenifer!" He pushed Jenifer up, awaiting for someone to take her up next. He thought that because he's old and considering the position he's in, he needs to help the others first before getting himself back up. He's really scared of death deep down, and he's already visibly shaking all over. But if he, the oldest in group, starts to panic, the others might follow and might start having negative thoughts that might slow them down on the rescuing process. "Everybody get out now! I'll help out! The Sarge and the others will take you up! Do not panic and stay calm! We're gonna get out of this alive!" Even his voice was shaky. He took the bet that the others will probably be, even a little bit, motivated to getting out of this situation alive.

But every possible moment his mind comes up with some wild consequences of his actions. [I gotta STOP THINKING ABOUT THESE THINGS, and focus on getting these people and especially my daughter to safety!]

Joe's head and back were slammed against the metal wall of the container causing him to fall to the floor in pain. He was disoriented, and he was having a hard time regaining his footing as he tried to stand. He didn't seem to be seriously injured, but the pain was easily apparent on his face. The truck must have finally crashed, Joe was half expecting it but he still wasn't prepared. That didn't really matter now though, all that mattered was getting as far away as possible. The giant container doors flung open and the soldier that had been driving was yelling for everyone to get out. At least he knew how dangerous this situation was, and with the sound of the infected growing closer the danger steadily became more real.

Joe staggered to his feet and shook his head trying to focus as he made his way to the back of the container. As he did he passed the mother and little girl that had been sitting across from him. It appeared that the girl had broken her neck in the crash, and though Joe knew the pain this woman was going through, he kept moving. As he jumped out of the truck he landed in the water and it seemed most people had already began running away. While that wasn't a bad idea at the moment, with no clue where to go next Joe decided to stay with the soldier boy for now.

"Ok then, what's the plan hotshot?"

Joe said as he walked in the direction of the soldier.

As the Sarge yelled for them to hang on the only thing going through Zac's mind was a single word repeated numerous times over again. He had no idea what they were hitting or why all he could feel was that slight moment of weightlessness as the truck dropped into the drink. The crash into the water hurt his ears. He had been the cushion for not one person, but two. They landed right on his stomach. He was having a hard time breathing. As the first person got off of him he felt the water start to leak into the truck. He looked left and saw the cigarette that was in his mouth in two pieces and was starting to get water logged.

"God damn it. I should be put in jail for cigarette abuse." He said to himself.

The second person wasn't getting off of him. He tried to move his right arm and found it was wedged under a seat. Zac coughed as he went to move his left arm. This time he was met with a whole lot of nothing. He couldn't feel his arm. He decided against looking at it for now. The adrenaline was keeping him from feeling whatever was wrong with his arm. He moved his arm and pushed the dead guy off of him. He saw what killed him, a swift hit to the head. Blood was starting to mix with the water flowing in. He pulled his arm free and started heading towards the doors. He saw his backpack on the floor and grabbed it.

He stood at the containers' door and jumped to dry land. Zac dropped down to his knees and started kissing the ground. It was the best tasting dirt he's ever eaten. He sighed and pulled a cigarette out of his pack. He grabbed his matches and light his cancer stick.

"Thank god. I thought I'd never see dry land again."

Zac looked at his left arm and saw blood, he rolled up his sleeve and saw a gash about 3 inches long and about half an inch wide. "Hey guys not to make people panic, but I got a bad injury here. I think I need stitches, or at the very least some help. I don't think I'm cut out for this line of work."

Sergeant Henderson

Henderson missed most of what was happening in the truck behind him as he knelt, taking careful aim, breathing evenly, as he fired all thirty rounds in his clip, thirty head shots, his training was paying off. He popped the exhausted clip from his assault rifle, handing automatically finding a new one and slamming it home.

He swept the area with the night vision scope and realized that they had a few precious minutes before any more of the creatures reached them, though he could see the entire horde from the 112 exit starting to spill down the embankment towards them, their moans loud enough to drown out much of the shouting behind him.

He slung the assault rifle and turned, helping to pull the survivors of the crash from the truck. A glance inside revealed a couple of causalities and he grimaced as he snapped at the others to leave them alone.

“Leave the dead! They will buy us some time.” Those words to the man who had addressed him as “hot shot”. Then to the rest of the survivors, raising his voice so they could all hear him, he continued. “Gather your gear and follow me.”

He plunged down the bank into the icy water, pausing long enough to haul his rucksack from the truck cab and un-racking the shotgun which he slung next to his assault rifle. Then he splashed his way towards the far bank, the water was not more than four feet deep but godamn was it cold!

He unclipped his pistol, fixed a flashlight to the bottom, and began to head further into the darkness. The moon, though weak, revealed a cluster of buildings nearby and if they could find shelter on a second story they might have a chance to hide until morning. With luck the undead would be too busy with the still warm bodies in the truck. If not… Well, he didn’t want to think about it.

“Come on folks, keep together, those with weapons, do NOT fire until you are 100% sure there is a zombie out there. Any gunfire will attract attention.”

He waited for the nods of agreement before turning and plunging into the field, his red flashlight lighting just enough path for him to see what was ahead. In the distance loomed potential salvation. They had to reach it, and fast.

Luca slung the satchel onto his back, wincing as a few stabs of pain shot through his body. If he survived this, he was probably going to have some lovely bruises over the next few days.

He followed the older man who had taken lead of the terrified group, and he leapt into the water. The icy chill forced the air from his lungs in a loud exhalation of shock, this water was freezing cold! He pushed through the water and struggled up onto the bank, his teeth chattering now from the cold.

Weapons... His knife. Where was it? His numb fingers fumbled to remove the knife from the side pocket of his bag, it might not be the best thing to use to fight these things... but it was better than nothing. Luca just kept wishing he would wake up, that this was all just a really, really bad and really vivid dream. Sadly, he doubted that was going to happen.

In the distance there seemed to be buildings, perhaps they could hide there? It seemed the guy who was ahead of the group had already spotted it.

"How... how kill them?" He stammered through chattering teeth. He'd not killed one of these things before, and he had no idea how -to- do it.

[What would Fiona have done in this situation...?] His thoughts flew around his mind. All these incidents had he thinking that was it worth it to live on. If everything were to just shatter every time he can knows he can firmly grasp it, why don't he just forget everything and just leave? Wouldn't that not make him hurt as much as it would when you lose something precious just when you think you can finally take it with you? He don't know. All these is just too painful. His wife and son's death were already a heavy crush on his heart. Anymore and his old heart might just pass up.

Now what are they doing? Slowly running their way towards a safe haven when all they did is just abandon and take advantage of the dead; using them as bait to temporary distract the walkers. That is no different then what the government did to the people when the people themselves are in a worse situation than they are. What did they do? They just left them to die! How is this anymore different than that?! While he is an old man, because of his healthy condition and probably because he trained a lot in the past, he is able to hold up a sniper rifle and fire it a point-blank range with impact to himself unlike the others, who are clearly normal citizens who have next to no firearm nor hand-to-hand combat training.

Although that wasn't the time to think about those. The mother, who couldn't bear to leave her child and was forced to, was suddenly attacked by one of the walkers. Obviously, she tried next to no effort to struggle against the undead. Probably because she thinks that living in this world has no meaning anymore and she should just get over with his life. Jeff couldn't bear the sight. Someone like her definitely needs time to get used to it. But no, this world just doesn't want her to. Like the rest of the world. Jeff immediately rushed towards the helpless mother and kick the walker. It noticed his kick and turned, but it wasn't given the time to even stare at him.

Jeff swung his machete just when the walker turned to face him. The machete easily slit off the half of the head cleanly, and blood spurted all over the towering old man's face and the shaken young mother on the floor. Jeff looked the mother's shoulders and an obvious chewed off shoulder stared at his face. Jeff knew what was going to happen to her. Her eyes clearly pleaded for help, and so he fulfilled her wish. As if he turned to a cold man, he stabbed the mother's chest, possibly at the heart. Her death went off without a hitch or any sign of delayed death. One second was all it took. That was all it took to end her life. Jeff re-joined the group, where almost every member were shocked by this incident. Jeff paid no heed and continued walking. Now, he couldn't think anything but to lead his daughter to safety. Beth was definitely worried, but he only wanted to bring her to safety. There was nothing on his mind but that. Nothing but that.

"Let's go." That was the only word he had to say to Alex, who was in front of the group.

☣ Alexandria "Alex" Owens ☣

---

"Let's go." Was all Jeff muttered to say.

She gave him a slight nod, heading away from the woman who had just been stabbed. Alex chose not to look back. She didn't blame Jeff for his actions; times had changed, and if this was the only way to fix it, so be it.

"You did the right thing." She addressed him, tilting her head in his direction.

Alex guided the group forward, every so often checking her surroundings to see if there were any lurking Roamers nearby. So far, the group had come in close contact with two of the creatures. One had attacked Alex, the other one had bitten a helpless woman who eventually ended up dying by the hands of Jeff. If Alex was ever bitten, she would choose to be stabbed, most likely shot, too. It was the good way to go. She wouldn't want to be trapped inside a lifeless body who roamed the Earth aimlessly. She wouldn't have any purpose to life anymore. She would be nothing.

The buildings were becoming closer now with each stride. She wondered what they were once used for. Houses? Apartments? She liked to imagine normalcy amid the crisis. It was nice, maybe even relaxing to think back to how things were before. But one question remained; were there any people left inside of the buildings? Probably not, but hope was one of the few things Alex had left to hold onto.

---

An hour had passed, perhaps and hour and a half. The group was beginning to grow tired as they made they approached some type of nearby farmland. It had been a long walk through the creek, and a mile back they had finally exited it and made it into a dirt road. She could practically kiss the ground.

Above her stood an abandoned, but very large barn. She wondered if the outbreak hadn't hit less-known areas as badly. Because of the amount of people and how fast the pathogen could spread, her predicament was probably right.

"Okay everyone," She turned gathering the group's attention towards her. "We need to stay quiet. We don't know if there are any Roamers nearby." She looked over her shoulder, glimpsing the outline of the barn once more. The poor crowd needed refuge from the long trek to safety. Maybe they should set up camp and rest. She faced the group. "I think we should take shelter for the night as we wait for The Sergeant. Those who can shoot, make sure to surround the group as we enter."

Taking her pistol out from the backside of her pants, she brought it to her eye-level, carefully walking into the barn. The place was lifeless, cold, and miserable. The group proceeded through, eyeing their way over scattered debris. Alex kept a close eye out for Roamers. So far, there had been no cries or wails in the darkness. She only prayed it stayed that way.

After a few minutes of scoping out the place, Alex guided the group into the dormant barn. Hay had been laid across the ground, and in the corner sat a rusty ladder which could lead the group up into the wooden loft above them. Typical farmer's supplies was scattered about the area.

She had a plan, and she was going to use it.

"We'll make sure that any Roamers can't make it through by blocking the entrance. Night shifts will also be distributed to those who can use a weapon. Those who have a weapon will guard through the night, switching off every hour or so before Sarge gets here."

She met the eyes of worn out faces. "Hopefully this place is safe." She thought in her mind.

"By the time The Sarge gets here, we'll figure out what to do next. For now, let's set up camp." She sighed, taking a deep breath. "Try to find anything that will support you and others as a bed. Any source of food would be nice, too."

"Sarge, you better get here. And fast." She thought.

The walk was long and painful. He was used to being on his feet all day, but not in a wet heavy feet. His steel toe boots were soaked to the bone. He could feel his feet starting to crack. Zac didn't care about what anybody else thought he was changing his socks when they reached dry land. He kept his arm raised to slow the bleeding, but he could feel the blood dripping off his elbow. He kept his finger away from the trigger to prevent any accidental shots. He didn't need to be surrounded by psycho's right now. His arm was like the freaking dinner bell.

He kept to the back of the group. Figuring if anything would happen it might as well be to him. He was already wounded. The only person who would miss him was Alex. His thoughts turned towards her. He looked around and saw nobody was even paying the least bit of attention to him. He shrugged and decided now was a great time to talk to himself.

"So, we're screwed right? Yeah, but look at this way; I got a great nurse tending to me. If everything was normal you wouldn't have even talked to her. She is definately out of my league. What makes you think she's even interested in a person to you." Zac was actually having fun talking to himself. He hadn't done it in a while. It felt relaxing.

"Well, she thinks I'm funny and her options at this point aren't really the greatest. So, you think the fact that the human race failing is the ultimate form of romance. Yup, it's official your crazy." Zac couldn't believe he lost an argument with himself. He decided to shut up and keep walking.

When the group finally hit dry land Zac immediately dropped down on his ass and took off his shoes. He ripped off his socks and threw them on a nearby rock to dry. He opened his bag and grabbed a fresh pair. He pulled them apart and slipped them on his feet.

"Oh god, I never knew that a pair of socks could feel so good." Zac exclaimed as he laid back.

Luca was used to being on his feet a lot, it came with the lifestyle. What he wasn't used too, was the panic and the fear and everything that came along with it. His entire body was shaking now from the fear, and the cold; probably a touch of shock too. The voices around him of the others were kind of fuzzy, blurry. Luca couldn't make out words, only who the sounds belonged too. Sort of.

He pressed on, moving with the group, not straying or making barely a sound. The chattering of his teeth were almost louder than his heart pounding in his chest. His feet felt awful, his socks were soggy and making squechly sounds. They'd be kicked off once they had somewhere safe to hide.

The roamers that were stumbling towards the ground terrified him and he just gripped his knife a little tighter. If they got too close, he'd have to stab them. Somewhere. All he wanted to do right now was to curl up in a ball and hide until this was all over.

Everything sped by so quickly, the shouts; the roamers moans and then suddenly ground to a halt just as that knife was plunged into the poor woman's heart.

Beth knew it was the right thing to do but the fact that it had been her father that had done it, shocked Beth, her sweet father who'd never harm anyone, who wasn't a crazy-ass-kill-everything roamer, and yet had managed to kill a human, harmed or not she was still a human.

Shaking her head, Beth actually found herself drawing closer to this new father she had acquired. Of course she was shocked but then a small wave of safeness rippled over her, it was as if she finally believed her father could get them out of this mess - He was strong, always had been, Beth had just been to blind to see he was hiding it only for his family.

They reached a barn that looked as if it had actually been left alone throughout all of this, however highly doubtful that was. Beth couldn't keep from wishing she'd finally found somewhere unmarked by the horror the world has become.

And so, the group walked into the barn, Alex leading the way; weapons poised to attack and somehow, by some kind of miracle, it was indeed empty.
Beth sat down heavily on some old hay, her feet aching from the long walk.

Hearing Alex talk about food and making beds, she looks up from her seat and asks "what do you need me to do?"

☣ Alexandria "Alex" Owens ☣

---

Some of the survivors had made their way up into the loft above the group, most likely to avoid being the first to die if the group was ever attacked. It was probably a smart idea. Alex thought she might do the same. Just in case.

The group had made the barn their temporary home; blankets were found among steel shelves and were immediately used as beds. Although Alex hadn't gotten her hands on one, she didn't prefer to complain tonight. If she had to sleep on hay, so be it. Her backpack would end up being her pillow.

She decided she would be the first to take the hourly night shift to guard. She hadn't had any volunteers yet, and she wasn't expecting any. Some people were too selfish to do anything for others these day.

"Every man for himself." She thought. It sounded like a pathetic line from a war movie; too bad she couldn't get her hands on one of those. She would've killed to escape into a world of fantasy, forgetting every care and worry left in the world as she dived into a dramatic plot.

"Oh god, I never knew that a pair of socks could feel so good." Zac, whom Alex assumed had just put on a fresh pair of socks, exclaimed as he laid back into the hay.

Damn. She couldn't believe she had almost forgotten about his wound. Poor Zac had slipped through her mind during all the hustle and bustle along the journey to the barn.

Hopping her way through the blankets and resting survivors, Alex quickly made her way to Zac, eventually bending down at his level. She eyed the blood-stained bandaged wrapped tightly across his left arm.

"How you holding up?" She met his gaze, knitting her eyebrows together. Her eyes then traced downward as she studied his arm. "Mind if I have a look?" She asked, reaching for the bandage. She wanted to see how the wound had been cooperating through the challenging transition process to the barn.

Her fingertips gently grabbed the knot, untying it with willing caution. The gash was deep and red. His flesh rippled at the edges of the wound. It was a large slash, and Alex hoped she could still manage it. Dear God she hoped she still could.

"How'd this happen, anyways?" She asked, still looking at the gash.

As she listened to his reply, her heart ached. Zac was probably going through Hell, and without any amnesia, the process of sewing it up wouldn't exacty be "pain-free", to say the least. Her eyes frantically darted around the barn, searching for any sign of a fist-aid kit. She needed to tend to the gash and quickly to prevent any infection.

"You just keep it elevated, okay? I'll be back soon," She met his gaze, offering him a slight smile. She hoped it would lighten his spirits. "Just hold up for a little longer."

Alex stood up, carefully making her way across the barn. She pleaded with herself not to disturb anyone. She didn't want any cranky survivors in the morning; she had already stumbled across a few complainers along the way. Viciously looking for a first-aid kit, she made her way towards the shelves which had once held the blankets. The only contents left were a box of ammo and a few wrenches and screwdrivers piled up against each other inside a rusty container. No first-aid kit there.

"Shit." She mumbled, pressing forward towards a wooden cabinet. She hastily flung the doors open to the cabinet, rummaging her hands through its shelves.

"What do you need me to do?" Alex turned, eyeing Beth who had just stood up from her seat. Beth amazed Alex; for a woman who was pregnant, she was awfully generous.

Alex smiled. "Would you mind looking for a first-aid kit?" She paused, looking at Zac in the corner. "Zac's got a pretty bad wound, and some medical supplies would be great at the moment."

She didn't want to give Beth too much of a strenuous task with the baby and all. Since a wooden plank had been secured through the handles of the barn's door (by the help of the men of the group) there wasn't much left to do but sleep. Alex figured Beth at least needed some rest, and offering her a night shift wouldn't help Beth from getting some shut-eye.

Henderson was glad that the girl was in front of him, she wouldn't see him stumble in the dark as the exhaustion of days events started to catch up him. He was a strong man, physically and mentally fit, but thirteen hours of driving plus the past two hours of panic and terror were taking their toll.

The grass around them made gently swishing sounds as they passed, the occasional twig snapping or panicked flight of some ground nesting bird the only sound other than their breathing and foot falls. The breeze at least was warm and he felt comfortable enough despite his damp clothing and 60 pounds of equipment on his back. Some of it would have to go, he realized that now, the pack was to big and unwieldy to have on at all times, plus the assortment of weapons he carried would surely get in the way at some point.

Several times the girl turned to speak and he mimed shooting her again, glad she had finally taken the hint. That same thought came with a rush of self criticism though. It wasn't far to expect the people of truck eighteen to handle the situation well, he was the only one amongst them with any sort of training and he realized that he would need to be more patient when dealing with them.

Finally the girl had taken enough silence and whispered an introduction. He thought for a moment then replied in a whisper almost to quiet for her to hear.

"Sergeant, or Sarge will do ma'am."

Before she could ask another question he held up a hand and signalled for her to kneel as he did the same. Something was moving swiftly towards them through the undergrowth. He levelled the pistol, unsure of what would come, almost certain it was no zombie for they did have the welcome habit of moaning whenever they detected prey. Instead of shooting though, he almost cried out for joy when the shape resolved itself into Gunner, tongue hanging out, tail wagging as Henderson whispered praise in his ear and pulled a soggy, but much appreciated, treat from his combat pant pocket.

The farm wasn't far ahead now but before he could say anything to Jenifer the sound of gunshots echoed flat and clear across the fields, low moans filling the air at once. He waited but no more shots came however and no screams, whoever had done the shooting was either dead or escaped. He hoped it was the second one. He knelt next to Jenifer, his mouth almost to ear, aware suddenly of the perfume she was wearing.

"Jenifer, you need to listen carefully to me. We are going to try and make it to those buildings." He gestured in the dark towards the distant structures. "I am going to lead, you follow me, and for the love of whatever god you believe in, do not make a noise or we're both dead. Understand?'

Once she had nodded he shrugged his rucksack off and carefully re-slung his weapons so they would not impede his movement. Then he unstrapped a small folding shovel from the side of his pack and slowly clipped it open. He tested the edges of it, still as sharp as when he'd honed the edge while waiting for the truck to leave.

He took her small slender hand in his, and with Gunner stalking silently next to them , began a slow approach on the farmhouse. He wasn't entirely sure how zombies detected human presence but he wasn't going to make it any easier and so went slow and quiet.

They came across the first zombie a hundred yards from the house, the vast majority of them were clustered beneath the nearby silo, he could hear their fists beating on the metal and see where they had started to stack slightly as they climbed on top of each other to reach whoever was up there. He also caught movement on the second floor of the barn, a terrified facing peeking out quickly before ducking back inside.

The first zombie wasn't even aware of their approach as it stumbled towards the silo and Henderson moved swiftly, releasing Jenifers hand to slam the shovel blade down into the creatures skull. It gave one hideous spasm and then dropped at his feet. He dragged the blade free, cleaned it carefully on the grass and then grasped Jenifers hand again, leading her to the wall of the house.

The zombies arriving were fewer now, their moans drowning out any other noise as Henderson dispatched two more with quick blows to the head. Only once were they spotted but the zombies moans were lost amongst all the others and he allowed it to follow him into the space between the house and barn before killing it quickly.

Spade cleaned once again he knelt at the corner of the barns far side, Jenifer pressed close behind him, and scanned the open space. No zombies appeared here and he could see the doors to the barn, a small man door and two massive sliding doors. If the rest of truck eighteens survivors had made it he hoped they would be smart enough to have climbed to the second floor and removed any access, which presented a problem as much to him as zombies.

"Keep close." He hissed at Jenifer and repeated the words in a foreign language to the dog who instantly sank into a belly crawl at his heel and as one the three of them crept slowly along the side of the barn. They arrived at the big sliding doors first and he could see at once they were locked from the inside by a chain. He peered through the crack but couldn't see anything in the darkness of the barn.

The small man door was next and he found it unlocked, gently opening it, the sound of the click muffled by the moans outside. He urged Jenifer and Gunner inside before closing it just as quietly behind them, taking a 2x4 and propping it so the door couldn't be opened again from outside.

The three waited for a moment in the darkness before Henderson motioned for Jenifer to wait as he hoisted himself into the rafters. He could hear frightened whispers now and the sound of movement.

"Truck eighteen." He called quietly. Nothing. He tried again, louder this time.