Murphy trekked his way through a forest. It had been days since he had seen an open area, though he knew that this would be safer than towns. His arrival in America had been months past and only when he came to the first town that he found America wasn't any better than his motherland, the difference was that it was bigger, giving the people more places to hide. The coast was far worse than inland, he had discovered that on his first week in the country. He had traveled with a small family, a mother and her daughter and son. To the kids he was known as Uncle Murphy and they were the best. It didn't take long before he became a part of this family and with them he traveled North. They accidentally stumbled upon a city and with no other place to hide for the night they entered.
After what happened there it was hard not to think there should be warning signs on all major cities. Once they stepped foot inside the city it had taken weeks to get out. They found a nice empty apartment that they set up camp, during the day Murphy would go searching for food while Lana, the mother, would stay and watch over her kids and their camp. One time Murphy came back. A hoard of freshly dead zombies were bunched outside the door, burning. He dropped the food and ran inside. His heart leaped when he found that Lana and the kids were still alive; though he later found that Lana had been bitten. She was changing, and as painfully and slowly as one could. Murphy had to put her down after promising to find someplace safe for her kids. She had known if she were to die or be bitten that Murphy wouldn't be able to take care of her kids, as much as he loved them. He wasn't a father and she doubted if he could ever truly be one. He promised they would have the safest place to live, then he shot her; her kids hiding far away. After that he traveled with the kids, trying to take care of them best he could, but it was hard to go searching for food for them and leaving them alone for hours. Along an empty western dirt road they ran into another family. Murphy could tell they were well off because the kids were running and laughing and nobody looked too starved. They camped with the family for one night, Murphy trying to persuade them to take on two more children. In the end they agreed, but his price for giving them a good family to live with was everything he had been carrying...well everything but his flask and Celtic knot necklace.
He travels alone now, slowly gathering a decent supplies together again. It was no problem for him to leave Katie and Eric, Lana's kids, with the family and giving them his supplies. He would have given nearly anything to make sure they had a decent home.
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Now in the forest he had his duffle-bag slung over his shoulder, his pistols hidden and held by his belt, and his hand holding a big branch he found. The branch, he knew, wouldn't do much damage, but it would disorient the zombie enough for him to get away without alerting others of his position. This is what he did, since he carried guns and they sent enough noise to attract zombies, he would find some blunt object he could use to swing around if he should need it. Though he had recently found one silencer for his gun, which made him feel more confident.
The forest was silent, not a good thing, there were no birds singing or the sound of scampering wild-life, though Murphy tried to reassure himself that the birds hadn't sang since the zombies started, but he knew that wasn't true. He had heard some birds sing recently, a noise he had missed more than he thought. A noise he wasn't hearing, which meant there was something close by that was spooking the birds and other critters. Murphy walked slowly, his eyes flitting quickly around, only catching small glances of what was around him, his ears listening intently for any kind noise; a noise that would alert him of danger or if the danger had passed.
Then there was a sound of cracking wood.
Murphy jumped behind a tree, the branch he carried raised and ready. When there wasn't another noise after, he nudged his way from the tree, only letting a small part of his head peak around the tree. He didn't see anything, so he figured it was safe to continue along his randomly chosen path. Though his nerves were set on edge, he could feel his whole body shaking with the slight raise in his adrenalin and the anticipation of danger.
He came over a hill and spotted an old cabin. His interest peeked. It had been about two months since he had slept in doors. It looked abandoned enough so he headed in that direction. Murphy found himself on the back side of the house, it had some windows. Murphy crouched below a window, noting bars had been placed on them. Looks like there might be someone living here after all, he thought to himself. Still he peeked up just to check. There was nobody in the room he was looking in, but he did note some movement of shadows in the next room. He quickly crouched down again. It had been a long time since he had seen another person and he couldn't be sure if these people were friendly or if they would be aggressive; he had run into both on his travels. He thought he could possibly knock on the door and greet himself like a normal human, but they might shoot the door when they heard the noise. He could call out at a safe distance, but they might have ranged weapons. He could bring them a gift of sorts, but they might mug and kill him.
Sighing, Murphy stood up and decided to walk to the front, he figured there wasn't any point sitting around thinking of what to do when there were possible allies inside. When he got to the front though he spotted a young red-head breaking in.
"You know there are people in there right?" Murphy asked her. His body-language was calm, as if spotting someone breaking into a building with possibly dangerous people, and whom could be dangerous themselves, was like the sun rising in the sky. "It might not be best to break their door, first impressions are vital to one's survival." He noted there was a dog nearby, no doubt this young woman's companion. This made Murphy a little edgy as animal companions could be more dangerous than their masters.
"I'm Murphy, Murphy O'Donnell," his thick Irish accent seemed to smile itself as a smile came to Murphy's face.