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Snippet #2372480

located in Quarantine Zone - America, a part of Blindsight, one of the many universes on RPG.

Quarantine Zone - America

Electricity works. Water flows when needed. You can even access the internet to a degree... But none of that matters when the infected never rest. The Quarantine Zone -America... where the American dream rots slowly.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Claire Fuller Character Portrait: Derek Mansfield Character Portrait: Mariam Qoreshi
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OOC: Oh, shoot, my turn to forget to select "Area 1." Sorry!

Mariam Qoreshi had never been one for extreme sports but the way her heart had dropped in the last fifteen minutes had made her feel as if she'd gone bungee jumping.

The adrenaline had come first with a hint of bright undertones. The woman she'd opened the door for, Claire, had made it into the station safely and a man, Derek, had come from the shadows within and had all but eased Mim's worried heart. The A person had not been lying. She wasn't alone, and, compared to her, these people looked ready to take on the world. Claire even owned a pistol. Mariam's face had imperceptibly blushed. All she had were those vials in her pouch, her mirrors and a small kitchen knife, yet all would be well because they were to be joined by more people and they would get to the root of the shamblers' existence.

Then came the uncertainty. The screams for help. Their peeping out the window to see a young man, a boy by her standards, making his way to the station... he was so close yet so far. The walking corpses were after him. Then she'd seen a couple of those corpses running. Running after the boy. Granted, at this stage there was still some excitement in her but it was exponentially being replaced by dread. Dread and worry. Then a shaky feeling of calm, Derek had thought fast and directed the boy to a bus. It was awful, but it was safe for the moment.

Alarm came after. The phone had scared the wits out of her soul. But maybe it was another of the survivors. Mariam wanted the brief feeling of safety from before to settle within her again so she'd picked up the phone. It had been A. That had been a lot better; she already trusted their invisible friend. But he did not bring happy tidings. Paradome headquarters, 72nd street, skyscraper, CEO office, hard drive... she made mental notes of everything being said into her ear. She wanted to argue against leaving the boy behind. She couldn't find her voice. Her hands were shaking. It was all she could do to not drop the phone.

Except she did when the bus had rammed into the station. The scared-out-of-her-wits phase began then. Zombies coming after them, no more survivors coming their way, being pushed to the floor, running from room to room and leaving the police station. The police station. A building that stood for justice and security, where incidents such as cannibalism and a young man's death were persecuted. How had the world turned around so utterly? The boy had lost his life. They'd been close to losing theirs. Still were.

Tears welled in Mim's eyes but she could still make out the sun's position in the sky and the length of their shadows. "It should be approaching one PM now," she managed to prevent her voice form wavering, "We have enough sunlight to get to 72nd." She spoke as quietly as she thought prudent. There were no zombies in the immediate vicinity, they had all probably drifted to the other side of the building following the bus commotion. The bus... that poor boy. That gave them a running start, but who was to say how may zombies would stand between them and Paradome's HQ? How many runners?

The thought of the runners brought back her feeling of dread. Shamblers she did not understand. Runners she found exceedingly difficult to accept. Where did they get the energy for all that running? Sure, they ate flesh, but zombies she had observed didn't have fresh blood pumping through their system; how did runners get oxygen to their cells without hemoglobin? Without oxygen, their electron transport chain would lack a final electron acceptor and it would get stuck, unable to release H+ protons out of the mitochondiral matrix which would render their ATP synthase completely useless! No oxygen, no adenosine triphosphate, no energy for speeds ten times that of the run-of-the-mill zombie. The forsaken things didn't even seem to breathe!

Mim had never been one for swearing but then again she had never felt that frustrated. She wiped the tears that had built up and surprised even herself when she was the one to take the first step towards 72nd street, mirror at the ready.

After she made sure any trace of her tears was merely molecular in size, she turned to Derek and Claire. Mariam offered them a smile despite the whirlwind in her head. They might've lost the boy before even meeting him, but in the end she still was with survivors as promised.

"I, uh, some people used to call me Mim before the mess. I'm a scientist, a cellular biologist; specifically, I mean. My absolute guiltiest pleasure used to be 90s boybands and home used to be in Albany, New York." She spoke quietly, but made sure they listened to her. "How about you two?"

A glimmer of light hit her eye. For a second she thought someone was using a mirror against her, not so. When her eyes adjusted to the sudden light, it dawned on her. Crud. The group found themselves staring at the river Styx some blocks away, smack in the middle of their way. With the bridges clogged with car collisions and shamblers, she hadn't the slightest idea of how they were going to cross. She realized, there was still way to go before the bungee rope stretched all the way.

Except at the end of a bungee jump you're supposed to be safe. Suspended and upside down but safe. Mariam looked onwards, the back of her mind assuring her that she'd chosen the bungee jump. Reassuring her that she had not just plunged headfirst into a dark chasm without a security rope.