The Shadows (IC)

Incognito · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Incognito** on Wed Feb 03, 2010 5:33 pm

Alex looked around at what was once his family’s kitchen. Most of it was now destroyed, a chaotic mess of broken counters, torn woodened floorboards and spoiled food. The smell of rotting meat and molding food that permeated from the refrigerator was getting worse by the hour and the pantry was now more barren then the Sahara desert. He ran a quick check just to make sure he didn’t miss anything… He didn’t. There was no food left and he couldn’t stay inside anymore. Leaving was a must.
It had been a week since the ‘Event’, Alex hadn’t had a good sleep since. His dreams had turned to nightmares, constantly haunted by the deaths of his parents. He’d buried them both in the back yard, what was left of them. That day he thought he might die from the pain, he’d never cried so hard in his life. Then he had found his mother’s bible, and taken solace in its words. It was the only thing that had kept him sane, that and the dream.
Walking into the living room where a pile of supplies lay, salvaged from various rooms of the house, he surveyed the items. The chain mail was heavy but provided good protection in case he ran into rabid dogs or the like… Alex would take that. The .22 was a must, as well as the long sword. He’d need something to carry the bible in as well as any supplies, the backpack also needed to come along. He placed the book gently inside it along with his Literature Textbook from school that he couldn’t bring himself to leave despite its weight.
Alex considered taking his phone, keys and wallet, but they were pointless now. He took his driver’s license out of the leather wallet and let the rest fall to the ground. The driver’s license was more so he could identify himself then anything else.
Shrugging into some old military BDUs he had found in the closet under the stairwell, he tugged on some combat boots and laced them up tight. Next came the arduous task of pulling the chain mail shirt over his head and onto his body. Success came after the third attempt. Alex fiddled with his belt then cinched it around his waist, making sure the sword was securely in it’s frog. The mail gloves and coif were on next, then the backpack and finally he pulled the rifle onto his shoulder. When he was done Alexander stepped back, feeling a little bogged down by the gear, and looked into the reflection cast by a broken mirror. Something was missing… He snatched up his Crusader’s Great Helm and placed the can over his head. The narrow eye slits added a menacing quality to the whole persona. Perfect.
Stepping out into what was left of the Garden District of New Orleans, he gazed around the deserted streets. He could hear nothing but his own breath echoing inside the helmet. He could barely even see more then a few feet in front of him. He started to think the medieval helmet was a bad idea; the narrow vision slits weren’t helping with the dark. “Yeah… well even without it you wouldn’t be able to see shit…” and he was right. Nothing would improve your vision in this kind of darkness other then a flashlight.
A few minuets later and he was walking down Magazine St, the slight clinking of his chain mail seemed so loud in the deadly quiet. Every now and then he’d see a charred skeleton or decaying corpse and it made him shutter. Cars were crashed into buildings, some overturned, and some were just abandoned or had their driver’s bodies in the front seat. It was like a horror movie.
At that moment there came a sound, not unlike a stone kicked by a foot. Alexander turned around fast, his eyes straining against the darkness before him. Drawing the long sword he stood there, unmoving and waiting. He thought about getting the rifle, but he wouldn’t be able to see whatever it was in order to shoot. At least, not until it was already on top of him.
He didn’t know how long he stood there, unmoving, listening to his own breath, but he never heard another sound. Finally he convinced himself it was just his imagination and turn around to continue towards the Wal-Mart. He kept his sword drawn, just incase.
Awhile later he was ducked behind a car in the parking lot Wal-Mart. He'd had few more scares along the way. Noises that seemed to always be behind him, but he could never tell if he had really heard them or it was just his mind playing tricks on him… He hoped for the latter. Only fifty more feet or so and he’d be inside. Returning the sword to its sheath, he drew his rifle and started forward.

“Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: For thou art with me;”

His voice sounded hollow and mechanical inside the helmet, but the prayer comforted him for he was indeed in the valley of shadows… And what a horrible place it was.

Kyon1 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Kyon1** on Wed Feb 03, 2010 6:34 pm

Jonathan woke suddenly, "shit I'm late for school" he thought. Then he remembered.. He stretched and looked around smelling the air.. For what? He didn't quite know himself. His food supply was exhausted so he needed to restock.. Closest place was walmart. Did he say that because of the dream? Walmart was north... He thought for a moment and made his decision, he was going. So he strung up his guitar on his back and roped up his messenger bag. He carefully pocketed his antique switch blade and headed out the door.. Eyes darting.. He knew the dangers.. He had heard the news and rumors.. His entire family was dead.. One night just dead... He was very sketchy about not being able to protect himself. So he looked for weapons any chance he got..

"almost there" he thought and good too it was getting dark.

FromTheAshes · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FromTheAshes** on Wed Feb 03, 2010 9:31 pm

Taylor took in a sharp intake of air and her blue-green eyes flashing wide open. Her chest rising and falling rapidly, and eyes taking in the rubble of her home. "Mom?" she croaked. Taylor coughed and sat up, trying to get the dust out of her lungs that he had inhaled when she passed out. Holding herself up on one arm, Taylor looked around, hardly able to make-out the remains of the living room. "Dad?" she croaked again, tears biting at the back of her eyes. Slowly, she climbed to her feet, gingerly stepping around the rubble. Wrapping her arms around herself, Taylor ran a hang over her hair, pushing it out of her face. Her chest and throat tight, she forgot to breath when she saw her sisters hand laying under a beam, staring open eyes at the sky. Feeling her walls breaking, Taylor fell to her knees by her little sisters side, her hand fluttering over her body. Tears slowly trickled down her cheeks, leaving a trail in the layer of dust on her skin. "Regs," she whispered and finally ran her hand over her eyes closing them.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered to no one in particular. Her heart broken, Taylor let her head hang and the tears silently flow, her body shaking lightly from the pain. Only a few minuets later, she froze, her red eyes looking at her sister face. Clenching her jaw, she got to her feet and began to dig. Mechanically, Taylor dug threw her remains of a room until she found her yellow hiking bag. She found her dresser and pulling out socks, jeans, shorts, shirts, hoodie and dressed herself. Pulling on her jeans, black leather belt, running shoes, black tank top, a green v-neck t-shirt and a black leather jacket. Moving her way over to where the kitchen was, she kept digging. Finding her mom's large carving knife, then the truck keys near the counter that was still standing. Before going to the truck, Taylor dug up 2 flashlights, 2 packs of AA batteries, and half a pack of wooden matches.

Going to the truck, she felt her heart flutter when it started. The roar of the engine was enough to make her jump out of her skin after the deafening silence. After taking a few deep breaths to bring her heart rate back down, Taylor pulled the truck over the grass and backed up to where the food was and began to load up all the cases of water she could find. By the end, she found 4 and 1/3 cases, not counting the 6 bottles she had in her pack. Then several cans of baked beans, ravioli, several packs of roman noodles, and 2 boxes of cereal to snack on. Finally, Taylor backed the truck up to the shed that was also a pile of rubble. Climbing out, she found 2 lengths of rope, her 6 person tent, and sub zero sleeping bag, and grabbed 4 large comforters. Then grabbed her fathers tool box, and then the old rusted sickle like blade. Then found the 3 15 gallon canisters of gas.

Finally, Taylor found her ipod and the adapted for the car and plugged it in and turned up Five For Fighting, 100 Years. Leaving the door open, she took a cup full of gas and spread it over where she could find the most wood. Before lighting it, she disconnected the propane tank from the stove and drug it back to the truck and loaded it. Lighting the match, she tossed in on the pile and let the rest of her house and her family and pets to burn and turn to ash. Driving away, she made her way to the WalMart that was about a 15 minuet drive. Well, 10 without traffic...

Chuckles · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Chuckles** on Wed Feb 03, 2010 10:57 pm

Chuck re checked the pack. It was all there, damn he wished he had gotten more ammo. Wal Mart wouldn't have the hollow points, of course the cheap crap he used to reserve for range shooting would still do damage. He hefted the bag on his back over the camel back and strapped it all up. Pulling his hat down and tucking his glasses in his pocket he put a hand on the door.

"This is not supposed to be happening." His throat got tight. "God, I'm still here so you're still paying attention, I guess. Help me out"

Thinking for a moment he moved his hand from the door to his holster and took out his gun, chambering a round, and replacing it. "Ten." he said quietly, letting the number sink in.

He opened the door and stepped into the darkness, using the rope he had wrapped around his staff as a sling he swung it up on his back and made his way threw what he used to call a front yard. Looking at his car as he passed, the top had been burned slap up, a lot of work sitting there to turn into rust. "I'm gonna miss the crap out of driving you in about thirty seconds." he sighed and continued on. The Wal Mart wasn't far.

"Nearly there. Now, just up here on the left." He stopped walking. He had heard something, some one talking. He reached in his pocket and flipped on his flash, and then slid his sunglasses on his head, keeping them just above his eyes. Another noise, couldn't be more than two. Feet, moving, sneaking, picking up pace. He nodded his head quickly making the sunglasses fall over his eyes, blocking out all of his sight. He turned around held out the flash, hitting the test button.

It was bright. Even from behind the glasses it hurt. For the two men who had tried to attack him, well they would be blind for a while. The were screaming, no doubt hands at their eyes. Chuck took off, running headlong into the dark toward the Wal Mart. He stumbled a couple of times as he tried to get the flash back in a pocket. Ripping the glasses off he could finally see more than just black, he was in the parking lot.

"Door door door, where the hell is the door?" He muttered as he ran along the side of the building. "Here it is." He ducked inside and threw himself against a wall. Catching his breath he looked around at the surroundings, "Welcome to Wally World, special post apocalypse discount, everything is free."

Incognito · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Incognito** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 1:39 am

Alexander was slowly making his way towards the front entrance of Wal-Mart when he herd scuffling, mumbling, something about doors. He wasn’t sure what the best approach was, should he run, sword draw and screaming for the source of the noise? Perhaps he could catch the person of guard and have enough time to decide whether they were hostile or friendly? No, what if they had a gun? Chain mail might stop a low caliber bullet, but taking chances wasn’t they way to stay alive.
After a few moments, he decided on looking for another entrance, it would take more time, but overall be better for his health. It took a few minuets to find the service entrance, and luckily it was propped open by a corpse. Alexander could only assume the man had opened the door to see a wall of fire and destruction before him. Come to think of it, Alex was amazed he had survived a nuclear explosion himself.

“The many gifts of God. Praise be.”

He crossed himself, North, South, East, West, and then entered into the stock room. It took him what seemed ages before he found his way into the actual store, and ended up in the electronic department. Alex had been to this particular Wal-Mart before, but even if he hadn’t they were all set up in pretty much the same way. He knew that the camping supplies, and the most logical place for a flashlight, was three isles to the right so he headed in that direction.
Alexander was slightly disturbed by the amount of noise his chain mail and heavy combat boots made on the hard linoleum floor tiles. He sounded like a real knight walking down the street. He kept his sword sheathed. He doubted any animals could have made it inside the automatic front doors… And he hadn’t seen any other survivors. He was starting to doubt there were any.
He finally got to the camping isle and started groping around for a flashlight, knocking a few things off the shelves in his blind attempts. Again he though of taking off the helmet… but it was just so damn dark it wouldn’t matter. Not until he got the friggin flashlight in the first place. Alex continued to rummage through random camping supplies.

Kyon1 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Kyon1** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 2:01 am

Jonathan saw the sign, "Next exit, Walmart". He wiped some sweat from his head and began to walk down the off ramp. He had been walking on the freeway.. it was more open there, away from trees and thickets.. made him feel safer. Thinking about what he would need when he got to Walmart he absentmindedly tripped... over a body. He looked back slightly horrified. It was a police officer, his face was literally melted off, his arms and legs gone.. eaten he thought, and his stomach was ripped open with all the organs gone. He choked and held back a small vomit urge.. he then realized there was still a fully useable belt of.. protection gear on the officers remains.. He plugged his nose and unbuckled the belt and put it round is waist.. He took out the pistol, It was a Glock He thought.. He knew enough about guns to shoot, reload, turn the safety on and off, basic stuff. He then observed the other equipment, pepper spray, night stick, extra ammo, a taser and a walkie talkie. "Not bad," he thought as he moved on, when suddenly he heard a car engine approaching behind him. He ducked behind a car and pulled out his pistol.. and got ready for.. whoever it was.. "It could be a surviver" he thought, "It could also be raiders".. He prepared to fight... or not.. a bead of sweat ran down his face.

Fallen · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Fallen** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 6:16 am

Danielle sat in the corner, sobbing uncontrollably, as she had been for the last two hours. In doing so she had given herself a horrible headache, but headaches were something she frequently had, so she easily ignored it. Her eyes were bloodshot, and tears streamed down her face. She whined to no one in particular, how the world was torturing her, leaving her here. How she wanted to die, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She then brought her frustrations towards God, cursing at him and blaming him for everything. Why was she here? Why was everyone else gone? And what had she done that was so horrible that she should be punished like this. There were often days when she quoted "I wish I could die." Was this his way of making her do it slowly? She thought about her family, and when they were still alive. How she never truely told them how much she appreciated them, and how she never really tried hard enough to make them proud. She was a failure, her parents couldn't even have die happy. Having no more tears left to cry, at least for the moment, she stood up. There were basically two things she could do, sulk here and die slowly, or fight for her life. There were variations of the first one which in the end involved some sort of dying, and she was too chicken for that one. Besides, if she took her life she wouldn't go to heaven, or so goes the stories.

"I hate my life." she mumbled.

Her head pounding, she walked into what was the living room as well as the kitchen...and the dining room. She had quite the tiny apartment. There wasn't much left of it, making it all the more depressing. She actually had a decent food supply, and for the following reasons. She was extremely picky, so she only ate certain things, and she had gotten used to one meal a day because of her odd schedule and her time on the computer. Time would fly on that thing, she would actually forget to eat, and wouldn't even know she was hungry. All she ever ate was dinner. The fridge contents had basically gone bad by now, however she had plenty of canned foods, and dry food, and cereal. She also had water and her trustee supply of sunflower seeds. In truth she wanted to stay here, she was scared to go anywhere else. However, she had to go. She didn't really have anything of great use to bring with her. She found her backpack, one which she had used for art in college, and dragged it to the middle of what was a room. There was a sketchbook in it, along with way too many art supplies. Frowning, she took out the paints, the charcoal, the pastels, the extra notepad, the binder, and made room for new things. She left in the sketchpad, sketching pencils, the utility and extacto knives.

The first thing that occured to her was to bring food of some sort, and she knew that canned food was heavy, so she couldnt bring too much. She walked over towards the brokwn cabinet, and grabbed fruit cocktail, canned peaches, manderine oranges, and canned pears. She then grabbed the Crispix ceral which was next to them. It wouldn't taste good by itself, but it was light. Beneath that on the counter was some tubaware. She grabbed one, and then scavenged the area for the can opener. Eventually she found it barried under what used to be several drawers. She walked over to her backpack, arranging things in there so they would fit, and then walked back towards what was the room, and grabbed a hnadful of under garments, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, as well as a jacket. And back to her back pack she went, for these items, she folded them so they wouldn't take too much room. [/i]I'm going to get really bored aren't I..[/i] She made her way back into the room and searched it for her ipod, her electronic book reader, and some random book. Eventually she found them all, leaving the place looking worse than before. She also grabbed a small flashlight, and one of those giant ones that was like a spot light. And her meds. She put everything but the spotlight in her bag and put the back pack on, immediately she regret the canned items. Too bad she didn't work out or ever get very active. She stood still for what might have been five minutes, until she finally mustered up the courage to walk outside.

The darkness. Immediately, she wanted to go back. She was extremely afraid of the dark. She always thought something was going to get her. She started shaking a bit, and her mind got the best of her. She started imagining things, and scenarios where those things got her. And so she started running, where she was running to she didn't know. But she was running away from the sound. She imagined someone chasing after her, and she sped up, her legs burning.

She could barely see anything, and her eyes weren't too good in the first place. Why she didn't bring her glasses was beyond her. Becoming exhausted, she slowed, she knew where she was, and the closest thing was Walmart. It would be smart to go there. And get...anything. Anything she needed. Because seriously, who was going to stop her? Danielle looked down at several corpses and remains, they didnt bother her at the moment, but when she recalled this sight later on, they would. She kept looking around as if something was chasing her. What if there was something out there. She couldn't run anymore, she actually wished she had an inhaler, even though medically she didn't need one, she couldn't breathe. She speed walked. She was almost there.

Aslin · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Aslin** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 7:40 am

She shifted the bag onto her shoulder as she stared at the family portrait of her family. Grimacing, she gripped her bag's strap tightly until her knuckles turned white. It was hell living in silence with no one to speak with. And ever since her family's deaths, Saras had stopped believing that she too would survive. But there had been a dream. She was not one to place too much emphasis on dreams. In fact if anything, her family's death had given her reason to lose faith in everything. But the dream had felt different. It had given her hope and a reason to survive. Lord knew if there was really something to help end this nightmare but she rather have something to do then just sit around waiting to die.

Her immediate plan had been to head off to WalMart first. She could stock up on food, water and any other equipment they might have. Placing a hand on the picture's frame, Saras hoped that there really was something worth fighting for. She bent down and picked up her bow and case of arrows. Slinging the arrows onto her right shoulder, Saras carried the bow in her left hand, prepared to attack if the need came. Silently, she opened the door of her home and stepped outside. Looking around, she could not make out anything further than an abandoned car just outside of her home's fence. This was the way the world was now. Darkness enveloped everything and anything. One had to get used to seeing in the dark. Allowing her eyes to get accustomed to being able to see in the dark, Saras pulled out a single arrow and held it in hand as she headed off in the direction of WalMart. Her home was only a 15 minute walk away so she hastened her pace enough to reach it even faster.

She walked over dead bodies that lay across the roads. Some were half eaten while others were simply rotting away. Cars lay abandoned, obstructing most of the roads but then again not many people had survived to actually need to use the roads. Suddenly, she heard a noise. She kept still for a second and stopped breathing. Her eyes scanned the area but she saw no movement. Again she heard the sound. Taking in a deep breath, Saras told herself to keep calm and continue walking. WalMart was right there. All she had to do was reach it. Placing the arrow into the bow, she walked backwards for a few seconds to ensure there was nothing behind her before turning back to walk forward. Soon, the outline of the large building came into sight and Saras breathed a sigh of relief.

FromTheAshes · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FromTheAshes** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 8:05 am

On her entire drive, Taylor couldn't help but grip the wheel as if her life depended on his. Her knuckles were white, and her body shivered as if her were cold. Taking in a deep shaking breath, she quickly drove down the abandoned streets, some areas clogged with cars and bodies. On occasion, she would feel as if she saw a shadow move, making her shiver even more. Finally on the free-way, things went faster, making her feel better that she was now in a fast moving truck that was big enough to climb over just about anything.

Prying one of her hands from the wheel, she picked up her ipod and changed the song to one of Linkin' Parks old songs, In the End. Laughing to herself, she placed her hand on the wheel again and shook her head lightly, "It fits," she mumbled and quietly sung along to the music. Glancing up, she saw her exit coming up. Without thinking, she turned on her blinker and only then realized that she didn't need it. Ignoring that fact, she began to make her turn and felt her heart stop when she saw someone dive behind a car.

Her entire body grew tense and her mind fought with what to do.He may need help. He also may want to eat me... Back and forth, back and forth. She finally slowed down and cracked her window just a little, "Hello?!" she called, but never came to a complete stop, she kept moving forward slowly so if she had to floor it she could.

Chuckles · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Chuckles** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 11:08 am

Chuck hadn't moved. He had slid down the wall and was staring at the inner doors of the store. A million ideas running through his head, mostly centered around what he was going to find in side, and why he hadn't grabbed a flash light. "Oh, right, don't have any flashlights. Good planning on my part, epic fail."

He didn't know which side of the store he was on, once he figured that out he could make a bee line to the gun counter, then grab a flash light, a half dozen packs of batteries, maybe the flashlight first. Then to the food, any kind of canned food, "Guess you're gonna have to learn to love beans buddy boy." He let his head drop back against the wall, going over the process in his head again, it was something he did when he really didn't want to do something.

He listened quietly, he hoped for silence. It wasn't what he got.

"Christ almighty are you kidding me?" He mumbled, half wanting to yell it so who ever it was knew exactly where he was. He put hand on his gun but didn't draw it. For some reason he couldn't escape the idea that maybe he should let this one find him. Maybe this was a surviver, any companion would be better than none. Was he seriously thinking about calling out to a pair of foot steps on the wild hair that they could become friends? It was the most ridiculous idea that had ever crossed his mind, he told himself to shut up and stop being stupid.

"I'm a survivor." his mouth called out toward the footsteps, he mentally kicked himself.

Kyon1 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Kyon1** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 11:18 am

Jonathan breathed slowly for what seemed like a minute straight and finally spoke, " who are you? Are you a survivor? I am armed so don't try anything!"he grasped the pistol firmly, finger laying on the trigger. "I could book it over that ledge if I need to", he thought to himself
making a mental note of how fast he could get there. "And I was so close too" he thought.

Traziel · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Traziel** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 11:28 am

He wouldn't get to see that devilish smirk that reminded him so much of his former self. He wouldn't get to hear him utter his first words, or take his first steps. He wouldn't get married off an island coast, or have a honeymoon in some foreign location. He wouldn't grow old, and enjoy the liesure of being retired from his dead end job. Those dreams were nothing but distant memories now, only there to remind him of what could have been. Devin held the deformed body of his son, crushed by falling debris, in his arms. Tears crept down the side of his face, but wailing was out of the question. He was stronger than that. Instead, he reburied his son under a pile of rubble, and made a makeshift gravestone from the broken remains of his crib. Amidst the sorrow, anger boiled in his blood. His faith in humanity was already limited, but now it was nonexistent. A low growl escaped from his mouth. The reaction was paternal. The loss of his son, the last thing he held dear, and the only person in the world he deemed worthy of his full support, was now dead.

A heavy sigh was exhaled as Devin stood to his feet. The normal reaction to such an event would leave his body a bit shaky and clumbsy, but the built up anger stiffened his composure. Devin had only read stories and played games that depicted the aftermath of the end of the world. He never thought the day would come where he actually needed to know that information to preserve his own life. Devin had previously gathered all of his belongings, and scavenged all that he could find. Cocking his 9mm and placing it within his jeans, held tight by a black belt, he then headed towards his front lawn. There wasn't a door for him to walk through, or walls to say goodbye to. Everything had been destroyed. Devin had terrible eyesight, but this darkness was more than he could handle. He knew where he was headed. Wal-MArt was a few blocks down, which of course would have been a godsend if his car hadn't been leveled by what could have possibly been his room. Reaching into his left pocket, Devin pulled a cigarette from its pack, lit it, and began walking. "I mean, I already knew life was full of it, but this shit is rediculous." He mumbled to himself in an attempt to distract his mind.

He couldn't see but a few feet ahead of himself, but he knew from countless trips that he wasn't that far. Reassured by the parking lot of destroyed and few managable vehicles, he could see the faint outline of the building. "The front entrance is made of glass. If something's in there, it's in there. May be survivors, may be something else. Either way, I need to stoc--" Devin cut himself off at the distant sound of movement. He wasn't sure if it were a scuffle, debris that hadn't yet settled, or something out to get him. Tossing the cigarette to the side, he made a run for it. He clenched his fists in case something grabbed him along the way, and thought through every possible situation that may arise due to his loud sprint. The rustling of his backpack made him far less elusive, despite donning all black. The heavy thud of his Timberland boots also didn’t help the situation. “Gotta grab a pair of kicks too. Can’t run a mile in boots.” He forced out.

A heavy sigh of relief escaped his lungs as he finally arrived at his destination. The doors slid open, and he went through. Before deciding to venture off, knocked over any nearby shelves and made the best barrier he could with assort chip racks. “Of course, they could just step over it, but at least I’d hear it.” He whispered. Unfortunately, the power was off inside the building. Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out the only flashlight he could find in that rubble he once called home. The light illuminated the building as best it could, delivering a grim sight to Devin’s eyes. Apparently the building didn’t hold up as well as he assumed. Bodies were still strewn about around the registers, subject to death –by-falling-ceiling. The sight didn’t unnerve him though. He was where he needed to be for the moment. At that time he recalled the weird dream that occurred to him before waking. “One long ass trip, but I’m sure I’ll pass about 50 other Wal-Marts and convenience stores along the way.” With that, Devin began to stroll down the aisles in search of easily opened canned foods. If anything, he wasn’t going to be hungry on this trip. All the while, he still kept an eye on his surroundings. Though it seemed like everyone was dead, he wouldn’t be stupid enough to assume he was the only one. “Vienna sausage on sale for the free? Why thank you.”

Incognito · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Incognito** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 12:40 pm

"I'm a survivor."

Stopped looking through the supplies when he heard the voice. How was he supposed to know it was friendly though? It could be a trick. Maybe he should just shoot the person, better safe then sorry, right? Alex immediately chastised himself for being so cruel and unfaithful. Never kill an innocent, it wasn’t right. Instead he called back, shouting into the darkness. His already low voice made a few octaves lower by the helmet, and made him sound unnatural and mechanical.

“Ho! Friendly?”

Military call-signs were all that came to his mind at the moment. Alex drew his long sword and the metal rubbed along the sheath in an audible scrape of metal. It sounded like a sword being drawn and Alex cursed it for being so loud. If the person was friendly, he didn’t want to freak him out and force a confrontation!
He looked towards the shelf. His eyes were now fully adjusted to the pitch-black darkness. Even with fully dilated eyes, he could only see a few more feet. This was unholy darkness! Unnatural! Luckily the extra feet enabled him to see a great big flashlight hanging from a hook. The plastic packaging had big white letters that said “TEST ME” with an arrow that pointed towards a raised red button. Alex quickly grabbed the flashlight with his left hand, keeping the sword in his right, and clicked it on.
What the fuck!? This was a like a mini sun in a damn box! Alex didn’t remember a flashlight EVER being so bright! His night-adjusted eyes squinted shut as the beam of light lanced through the darkness of the store and created a beacon as to his location.

“Come towards the flashlight! Camping supplies over here!”

Chuckles · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Chuckles** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 1:46 pm

"Ho! Friendly?"

Then he heard a distinct sound, "Guy carries a sword? God has chucked my in a video game." he thought.
"Friendly as you are!" he called. suddenly there was a beam of light, Chuck squinted when it turned on, readjusting his eyes.

"Come towards the flashlight! Camping supplies over here!"

Camping supplies, the gun counter, and a light to see. Well the guy couldn't be to unfriendly, after all now he had a huge bright "Shoot here" marker if things got rough. Chuck doubted they would.

He made his was toward the back slowly, keeping his eyes focused on anything that was not the light so his night sight didn't leave him completely. He would have to find some head lamps with red light, or at least something to mask that white. He stumbled threw the toy department and finally found his way to an aisle where he could see his target. Standing there, sword drawn, dressed in chain-mail, holding a flashlight. Chuck grinned, and for lack of a better word let out a soft chuckle.

"I think you're in the wrong decade dude." He rounded his way into the open, "And for reference," he moved his jacked to show the gun, "I win." It was said with a smile as he let the jacket fall back over his side. "I do have to say thanks for not trying to kill me though, it's refreshing." He stuck out a hand, didn't seem like much else to do, "Chuck Hendrix."

It was an interesting sight to see, a man with a military duffel, leather jacket, and snap brim standing there with his hand held out to a guy in chain-mail holding a sword. Under any other circumstance it could have been found funny, actually Chuck found it pretty amusing in the current circumstance.

FromTheAshes · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FromTheAshes** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 1:53 pm

Taylor clenched her teeth and narrowed her eyes in his directs. "Good way to get help, threaten," she mumbled and rolled her eyes. "I'm a survivor!" she called loudly, but felt her muscles flex towards the gas to get her out of there. "If you try anything funny I'll just run you down," she called again, answering warning with warning. "I'm heading to WalMart, if you want a ride, climb on the cap and hang on!" she said again and rolled up her window not waiting for a reply. With the cap on the back of the truck, he couldn't get to the goods if he tried, and if she had to throw him off the back, that would be easy. And since there were back-seats, for him to shoot her threw the window wouldn't be that easy either.

Waiting for him to climb up, she gently pressed her foot to the gas so not to throw him off, and made her way down the exit ramp, weaving around a body or two in her path. Her stomach did some flips and her adrenaline was rushing threw her veins in worry about the boy she hand sitting on her cap. Pulling into the WalMart parking lot, she froze when she saw someone else enter. Putting the truck into park, she pulled her door open and held her hands up so he could see that she was unarmed. "My name is Taylor, I'm just trying to live. I'm going to head to New York once I stock up on supplies," she said, her eyes narrowed and body tense, ready to dive back into the truck if need be.

Kyon1 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Kyon1** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 2:21 pm

Jonathan saw raised up his hands and slowly holstered his pistol putting the safety on. "I'm Jonathan... I didn't think I'd be meeting anyone on my way.. Oddly enough.. I'm heading to walmart and then to new York as well.." he replied, choosing his words carefully. He was usually very trustworthy of people but after the murder of his mother, father, and little brother he found it hard to trust anyone but himself, not to mention he has had far too many girlfriends wanting to rip his head off. He looked towards the walmart seeing a light slightly shining through the front glass doors. "looks like people are in there... Could be anyone, I'll take point.. Take my hand, it's dark i don't want someone else dying." he said holding out his hand. She seemed friendly enough, and what choice did he have? Jon has always had a nack for taking the leader position.. Keeping things prepared and orginized. He just took the initiative.

Incognito · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Incognito** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 2:29 pm

"I think you're in the wrong decade dude."

He eyed the man from behind the helmet’s slits.

"And for reference, I win”

Alex then looked at the gun and shrugged. He placed his sword back in its sheath and turned towards the camping supplies and assortment of various flashlights.

"I do have to say thanks for not trying to kill me though, it's refreshing."

The man extended his hand and Alex turned, placing one chain mail glove in the man’s grasp and giving it firm shake before letting go and returning to the task at hand.

“Chuck Hendrix.”

“Alexander Watters. I had faith I made the right choice.”

He didn’t look away from a mobile camp stove he had located. Now he was glancing around for a canister of fuel. The soft orange glow of a flame would provide less harsh light so that they could see.

“I’m amazed someone else survived. How’d you do it?”

Alex found the fuel canister and started to fiddle with the device. He started running over plans in his head. What did they need to do next? Best thing for now would be to fortify this position. They could barricade the entrance and place some spotlights on it… Maybe they could get a few generators running and string Christmas lights along the isles to make navigation easier. They would have to use the gas from the cars in the parking lot to run the generators and that meant locating a gas can and going out to siphon the fuel tanks.

“You know, actually I don’t think it really matters how you survived. God works in ways I can’t comprehend so I’m sure you’re here for a reason… What do you think of this…”

Alex spent the next few moment outlining his plan to fortify the Wal-Mark and get the generators up and running. At the end he paused, seeking the man’s input.

FromTheAshes · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **FromTheAshes** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 2:47 pm

Taylor narrowed her eyes on him and turned back to her open door. Leaning in, she turned the truck off and grabbed her sickle, carving blade and her back pack encase she didn't make it back to the truck of some reason. Shutting to door, she locked the doors and the back hatch and put the keys in her pocket. "I know that you mean well, but you don't need to hold my hand," she said and made her way to the main doors. She went from frightened to frustrated in the matter of seconds with the boy's actions. Her emotion were still to raw to think rationally, let alone react reasonably.

As she got closer to the door, she felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. She paused a few yards away from the doors and nodded to signal Jon to go first. "Being that you have the gun and all," she said and felt her body automatically grip the blades in her hand tighter. With her wrist, she pushed her glasses up her nose a little further to let her eyes focus. Looking around, she already knew there was at least one other person in her aside from herself and Jon. Maybe more, and hopefully, they weren't looking for trouble.

Chuckles · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Chuckles** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 3:02 pm

"God works in ways I can't comprehend..."

"That he does." Chuck agreed, then listened to a plan that involved fortifying the Wal Mart. It was a good plan, canned goods, supplies, shelter. The only problem was the little voice in the back of his head saying "Yeah, but you can't get to New York sitting in Wally World."

As Alex laid out his plan Chuck slid over the gun counter and cracked open the glass that protected the ammo. He grabbed every last box of .40 ammunition he could, which turned out to be six boxes of one hundred rounds. Found a display that had LED head lamps in it and grabbed three and ten packs of replacement batteries. Then he grabbed a couple of the biggest packs of AA batteries he could find.

Pulling his hat up slightly he put on one of the lights so it sat just below the brim, and switched it to red. "Thats better." now if he needed dark he could switch the light off and his night sight would be almost perfect.

He was still contemplating the Wal Mart idea. "You know, as much as it makes sense to try and fortify this place, and as much as it doesn't make sense to do what I'm about to say. I've got a funny urge to go visit New York."

Chuck had a light bulb moment and went to see if they had any night vision goggles, sometimes you could pick up a cheap set at Wal Mart. He found the place they should be, with a tag that said OOS, "Typical."

Kyon1 · **Tips:** 0.00 INK by **Kyon1** on Thu Feb 04, 2010 3:09 pm

Job retracted his hand, muttering to himself, "don't blame me if you get snatched up by the darkness".. He moved inside staying low behind the mess of things strewn in front of the door and signaling to Taylor to stay low as well. He saw the light and two silouetes of figures with weapons.. They might be surivors but more likely raiders.. He raised his weapon and kneeled knocking his guitar clumsily on the floor. Knowing the had to have heard that he spoke out firmly, "were survivors! I'm armed so nothing funny! Are you friendly?" he took the safty off and hissed at Taylor to hit the deck. Once again ready for anything.

The Shadows (IC)

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