Description

Personality

Friendly, humble, and hard-working, like any man should be. Believes in enjoying simple things with a sprinkling of the tougher things, just so you can always be on your toes. Tough, but gentle, like leather. Remembers to keep his head in perspective of other perspectives, but remembers that opinion matters. Before the outbreak, he didn't like any kind of fighting at all, nor any kind of conflict, but when push came to shove, he had no problem putting bullets in the heads of anyone infected at up to 300 yards. Reads any book that's available; scholarly and somewhat intelligent, but pretends not to be. Generally very quiet, but noticeably mindful.

Equipment

Remington 7600 rifle in 30-06

Lee-Speed sporter rifle in .303 British

Taurus PT99 handgun rechambered for .45 ACP

Glock 32 in .357 Sig Sauer

Taurus Judge in .410 Long Colt

Reproduction Civil War rucksack with spare ammunition and canned foodstuffs

Wool blanket

Compass

Round gallon-sized canteen

Vietnam-era webgear

Bowie knife

History

Danny grew up an intellectual who loved doing things. He always felt his primary goal in life was to learn and to impart knowledge to others, and even aspired to be a high school history teacher. On the side, however, he could be found riding mountain bikes, playing Hockey, hunting and camping with his father, and reenacting various American military impressions between 1838 and 1923. His father taught him how to survive in the wilderness, and his reenactment days helped him finally to implement them. He was just another farmboy from just outside Tulsa, Oklahoma, who appreciated simple things.

Then there was the quarantine. Another totally unneccessary waste of fear, Danny surmised. Nothing's gonna be worse than the Spanish Flu pandemic of the early 1900s. Then he saw the President give a speech during primetime about it. Worse, the speech was short, and obviously not in the Oval Office; it was very obvious some Hollywood guys had painted a White House mockup to try to help the American people think everything was okay. Of course, it was easy for the President to say such things, because he had a whole staff of highly trained ex-Special Forces-types willing to die for him. What a joke.

Danny didn't think much anymore about his old friends after the President stopped going on the air, because when the televisions stopped working altogether, that was when he needed them the most. He pretended like they didn't exist after he got them killed. In the beginning, there was the original Triumverate of him, Riley James, and Zeke Kaiser; they weren't held down by religion, or science, or morals to continue surviving in this brave new world. Soon, more people showed up, and 3 became 12. 12 became 23. This would not last, however; it was only natural that some would die of disease, some would kill themselves, some were killed, and some would just plain disappear. There were too many hazards in the new world, and he was a fool if he thought he could save them all. It didn't really hit him until one day, the apartment building the remaining survivors were staying in was attacked by a group of the smarter infected while he was scrounging up food across the street. It was bound to happen sooner or later; he confirmed what was left of the bodies when he retrieved his gear after the group had left, and they had surely been following them for days.

Sometimes, on lonely nights under his Civil War canvas tent, or when walking by himself on backwoods county roads, he cries. He wipes away his tears and remembers how aptly one of his books summed this situation up: no great loss. He is a soldier, but he's not a fighter. He thought he had survival down to a science, but he seemed to forget that science held one down. It was more of an art. The art of not dying in a world that was after him. His next best move was to keep moving south; he heard there was a small survivor colony down south in Lawton, which made sense because half of the town was a military base. He had done several reenactments on the base for the troops, and every time he showed up, they seemed in good shape. All his prayers now hang on the promise of safety in Lawton, which may just prove to be an illusion in the big picture. Hopefully, he can at least find something to eat.