Jenifer Drop's Story

An intense, nasal voice rang through the airport as a young blonde woman dressed in tattered designer clothes dropped to the ground, her hands frantically searching for something that has been lost. Her name was Jenifer Drop, a nineteen year old survivor of the outbreak. In the airplane that was headed towards Hartfield-Jackson Airport in Georgia, many people gave Jenifer concerned and confused looks due to her clothing and appearance. Most of them thought someone such as Jenifer would surely be dead by now.

"Has anyone seen an Estee Lauder lipstick anywhere?" announced Jenifer, dusting herself off as she stood up. None of the many people rushing to their destinations seemed to care. Jenifer angrily sighed. She cared a bit too much of her appearance, especially at that moment where she had the most hygienic and pampered look out of everyone at the airport.

A man yelled for all people with eighteen on their ticket to start loading on a truck. Jenifer glanced at her ticket; eighteen was written on it. She flipped her hair to the side and held on to an of the sweater draped over her shoulder. In her mind, Jenifer imagined the type of people who she would be riding the truck with. Tightening her grip on her designer purse, Jenifer sauntered to the gate.

There, Jenifer spotted a black-haired man smoking. She gasped in disgust. Smoking, really? Jenifer let out a high-pitched grunt and marched towards the man. She rolled her eyes and fanned the smoke from the cigarette away from her face.

"Are you in truck eighteen?" questioned Jenifer, glaring at the man with cold eyes. She tied the arms of her sweater, not wanting it to fall off her shoulders. From the look of the smoking man, Jenifer knew she was not going to enjoy being in truck eighteen.

Joe was sitting up against the far wall half asleep when he heard the soldier give the order for another truck to be loaded. Joe reached into the front pocket of his shirt and pulled out the small slip of white paper and unfolded it to reveal the number eighteen. He grabbed his bad and stood, throwing it over one shoulder as he did so, and began to walk towards the truck parked near the gate. He noticed that the majority of the airport had been cleared out, and only a few trucks remained as he walked past the Colonel and gave him a slight nod.

He made it to the back of the truck where he noticed a few others that had already made there way to the truck. Most of them seemed to be rather young but a survivor is a survivor, and Joe was happy for anyone that made it. He made his way towards the front of the truck, trying to get as far out of sight as possible, and hoping that this group of kids wouldn't be chattering on about mundane stuff. Once he was there and he sat down on the small wooden bench type thing that had been installed in the truck and pulled his cap down over his eyes.

"Truck eight teen, northbound to hell."

He spoke to himself before crossing his arms and once again trying to find a small respite from the horror that had befell the world. His thoughts began to drift, and he only hoped they would reach their destination safely.

☣ Alexandria "Alex" Owens ☣

---

"Run, Alex. Run."

The adrenaline began to kick through Alex's veins. She felt her pulse intensify with each stride as she bolted across the asphalt, her heart now racing. Sweat was trapped beneath the inside of her grey, tattered t-shit as she dashed through the empty streets, hoping to find some sort of refuge-- A place where she could shield her eyes from those things... Those somber figures that clouded every square inch of her ever-growing nightmares. The mere thought of 'them' made a chill run through Alex's spine.

A bolt of lighting cracked behind her in the distance, now summoning the rain. Her russet hair began to tharsh through the violent wind. A cry of help spiraled out of Alex's lungs in a plea for anyone... Anyone.

A languid groan echoed in the distance.

A second chill consumed Alex.

"Run, Alex. Run."

She turned around, horrified at the sight before her. It was her worst nightmare yet. A limping, yellow-toothed Roamer with a side of flesh carved out of its face let out a high pitched screech as others of its kind surrounded Alex, collapsing over her body. She felt the paralyzing emotion of fear absorb her mind once more. Her agonizing scream was swallowed by silence as she fell into a deep pit of darkness.

---

"Now loading truck eighteen! Those with that number on their ticket please proceed to the gate!

Alex awoke from her dream, her heart still thumping quickly against her chest. The lack of sleep from the past few days was finally catching up to her. She rubbed her eyes as her vision blurred; she had now stepped back into her crushing reality as she identified her sorrowful surroundings. She was at the Hartfield-Jackson Airport in Atlanta. She had managed to meet up with a barley functioning RV while uprooting herself north towards Georgia and away from Florida. The family owning the vehicle were Mexican, so they couldn't speak much English; but together they had managed to face the odds and make it to the last quarantined zone in the city. Eventually, they were separated amongst the bustling crowd at the airport. Alex wondered if they were alright.

She jumped off of her uncomfortable temporary bed, an iron bench, and headed towards the line of the white trucks. There was much yelling, mostly families arguing over seats or a few tickets left to collect a ride. She even glimpsed a fist-fight between a few men quarreling over something. Food? Water? A seat? It horrified her how much things had changed over the course of a few days.

She arrived at the gate of Truck 18, shaking as she did. Alex didn't know what to expect anymore. "Help me, God." She muttered under her breath. "Help these people."

Once more her eyes viewed the innocent faces of trembling citizens. What would happen to the ones left behind? Would they be murdered? Thoughts began warping through her mind. Eyeing the inhabitants, she spotted a man roughly her age begin to smoke (reminding Alex of her need for a much appreciated cigarette) while a blonde approached him as he made his way to the towards the truck line. She looked spiffy in her designer clothes; Alex wasn't sure if she was appropriately dressed for the situation at hand. It made her smile inside a bit.

"C'mon, you're holding up the line!" A gruff guard, dressed in combat-like clothes, addressed her loudly.

She scurried up to the man, handing him the ticket. He looked at it, his eyes tracing over the number '18.' He quickly tore it into two, crumpled it up and threw it in the small trash can to his right.

"You got a weapon?" He tilted his glasses downward to watch Alex's reply.

"Yes." She barley mumbled to say.

"Good," He cleared his throat. "I don't know, I haven't been on the road, but- You might need it. Proceed forward."

She hastily walked onto the boarding steps of the bus, clutching onto the rusty railing. A few eyes met her gaze, making her feel as if she was being spied on. Her fingers traced the strap of her backpack, feeling it's scratchy fabric for a sense of comfort. As she passed the onlookers, she proceeded to take a seat next to a man perhaps around her age with shaggy brownish hair, and a bit of a gritty beard.

Alex took a deep breath, curling strands of hair behind her ears to focus on what was in front of her. She viewed an older man with dark hair sitting diagonally from her, crossing his arms. A few others in the truck drifted off to sleep. She looked at the tired and worn faces of a woman and her young daughter, and a dark skinned-man fidgeting with his fingers in his lap, murmuring under his breath.

"Eighteen, eighteen, oh hell where is my ticket." a man rummaged around his backpack, frantically opening each pocket and sifting through the contents, ignoring the questioning looks of bystanders. Finally, John mouthed, letting a breath he didn't know he was holding escape his lips. Zipping his bag closed and shoving a shirt to cover the shotgun he had carried ever since the beginning of this "Outbreak".

As he was still kneeling, he heard a voice call out about make-up, lipstick, to be specific. He sighed as he watched the woman who owned the voice that pierced through the crowds respond to the announcement of the truck number. And then a small metallic glare caught his eye, and he studied a small tube of lipstick, letting another sigh escape his lips as he pocketed it, figuring that he could return it to her later on, when everyone was settled, I guess some people still need their comforts. John mused as he fumbled with the straps, getting them to rest on his shoulders.

"Mornin'." John nodded to the soldiers that stood guard at the trucks, flashing his crumpled ticket, and proceeding as they nodded. He observed the passengers, recognizing the woman and glancing at the other men. He placed the tube of lipstick firmly next to the woman and continued to an empty seat, ignoring any response to come from her lips.
He made a stop at the second to first row, ignoring the presence of the man in front of him, and sat down with another sigh escaping his lips. His knee had been killing him, and the rest was a welcome change from constantly walking to and fro in a worry. I guess age is starting to catch up. But thirty isn't too old. Just wait 'till forty. John ran a hand through his hair and hugged his backpack to his chest, eager to get to a safer place, if there was any.

Beth's eyes fluttered open, she hadn't really slept, just feigned sleep until her father had fallen into a heavy slumber - Then she lay looking up at the dingy ceiling.

Sitting up, Beth clenches her fists, shaking the horrible memories from her brain - Why couldn't she just let it go, forget? Beth wasn't quite sure how much longer she could stand this for, living like this.
Smiling meekly at her father, Beth grips her ticket tightly, standing up and brushing off her dreadfully faded jeans.

It was then she heard a girl calling out to see if anyone knew where her, make-up was? Make-up? Honestly, that girl must be insane to think that lipstick is the most important thing right now.
Sighing, Beth strokes her lightly swollen stomach, she was a few months along now and it was getting harder and harder, especially with the little supplies they had left.

Walking over to her father, Beth takes a deep breath and says, "ready?" before walking over to where truck eighteen was stationed.
Her stomach was even more tender than usual and Beth couldn't help from crying out a little as she tried to board.
What on Earth was her precious baby doing? Beth guessed it was from the lack of food.

Cradling the little bump, she tries again, but this time its even worse; tears prick the back of her eyes, Beth turns to her father and whispers, "I can't get up, not without a little pain, that is."
Biting her lip softly, a small look of pain crosses Beth's face but she quickly masks it - There's no need to alarm her father too much.

Zac looked around to see what type of people he was going to spend the next undisclosed amount of time with, a father and daughter; who wasn't really hard on the eyes either. A middle aged man with that type of look in his eye that would make even him think twice with messing the guy. That perky blonde who obviously disliked his smoking habits. That other girl who looked like she desperately needed a cigarette. A man who looked liked he looking for something or someone and a man; Zac couldn't really make heads or tails of him. More observation would be required. He smirked as he thought of something funny to say. He knew it was a terrible time for jokes but, usually the worst time for jokes were the best time for jokes.

"So, ah.... Who ordered the Sardines?" Zac said when there was a weird silence. As the words left his lips he knew that he either was a genius or pretty much going to be the first guy that gets tripped. He really hoped that it was the former.

The enormous amount of noise the truck generated frustrated Jenifer. In her mind, she couldn't stop thinking of how things couldn't get worse from that point on. She didn't bother to look around and see the people she was stuck in Truck Eighteen with.

Holding her tube of Estee Lauder lipstick in front of her face, Jenifer exhaled with relief. She tilted her head to the side and glanced at the man who had returned it to her. He was hugging his backpack like a little child in a school bus on his way to preschool. Jenifer let her mouth form a small, almost unnoticeable smile. She rummaged through her purse and took out a tiny mirror that she often used to adjust all of the cosmetics piled on her face. Using it to get a clear view of her mouth, Jenifer twister the tube of lipstick open and applied it to her lips.

The smoking guy who Jenifer already disliked decided to speak up with an odd question about sardines. No one could have said anything more awkward or irrelevant. Jenifer rolled her eyes and stared at the man.

"Excuse me?" retorted Jenifer, a look of disgust on her face. She finished applying her lipstick and set it in her purse. The situation she was in did sadden Jenifer a bit, but that didn't stop her from maintaining her appearance. In her mind, she kept telling herself that there was some person out there with the solution to everything that was happening at that moment. Of course, Jenifer knew how unlikely that was, but she wasn't much of a person to expect a situation where her past, high-end life would be thrown away.

Beth forced a small smile onto her face, quickly realising the man was joking. It didn't really feel like an appropriate time, but she was never one to be rude.
Hearing a man introduce himself, in a thick accent, as 'Luca' Beth smiled at him and listened as her Father introduced both of them, chewing on her lip as he talked about 'not expecting to see 'one' here."
Frowning, Beth quickly apologises for her father, "don't mind him, my father's a bit of an old codger; he doesn't mean to be impolite."

She then proceeds to look around the rest of the tiny vehicle, that man was definitely right about them being packed in like sardines, God, Beth could hardly believe they'd all managed to squeeze in.
There were two other women and six males, including the driver, who Beth had heard mutter something about going into hell which, quite frankly, had unsettled her a little.
Beth tries to greet everyone with a small smile, she must do the best she can to make this cramped journey as relaxed as possible - If only for the baby's sake.

The girl she saw asking about her lipstick earlier had, obviously, found what she was looking for and was applying the wretched thing.
It was really quite confusing to think that this woman thought applying make-up was the most important thing at the moment.
Curling a hand around her stomach, Beth remembered, what her most important thing was.

Sardines? Really? Jack smirked a little at that, his shoulders falling to a less tensed position as he let his bag down gently, careful to keep the shotgun hidden under a t-shirt. He didn't choose to say anything in response, but kept the understanding smirk on his lips, At least some people can keep the jokes coming. He leaned against the wall of the truck and crossed his arms, one of legs resting on the knee of the other, a comfortable position, one of the most he had experienced in a while. Under hooded lids he watched the others as the truck started up and left the zone, watching for those that smiled at the man's joke, and those that just glared at him with a misunderstanding.

One such man piqued his interest, a foreigner, European? Jack didn't have too many tourists visit the bar, but he knew some variations of accents from the television that was on constantly overhead when he worked, let alone the fact that the man's English was broken, but understandable. Jack listened to the other passengers introduce themselves, Alex, Luca, Jeff, Beth, himself, the woman he had picked up the make-up for, another man, a serious one at that, and the joker, whom Jack could smell the smoke from. And there was the driver, who made no interaction with the passengers other than a small utterance that sounded foreboding enough for Jack to struggle to ignore it.

Perhaps I should... Socialize. Nodding to affirm his though, he offered a small wave to the others' as he stated his name, "John, you all can call me Jack if you'd please. Glad to be around people who aren't too afraid to talk." his Southern drawl thick in his voice, and a small smile tugging at his lips.

Luca shook Jeff's hand, brushing off the foriegner comment. It was true, they had picked an awful time to come to this place.

Then again. Had this spread outside of this city?

His smile faded a moment, before he forced it back to his face. At least everyone so far seemed to be willing to talk to each other, that in itself would help keep them occupied on this trip to the unknown. His gaze drifted towards Beth a moment, and... wait was she pregnant? He felt sorry for her, not even able to imagine how awful it must be for her. He'd been around pregnant women before, and running for your life? Not something you'd want to be doing. Then again, this was better than the alternative.

"Is nice meet you all." He smiled at each in turn, his lips drawing into a thin line shortly afterwards. "It seem it was bad time for holiday."

It was a rather bitter truth, and his mood soured as recent memories came washing back. His gaze lowered to the ground, and he stared at it with a soft sigh.

Jenifer glared at the foreign man, wondering why Beth the pregnant woman and her father Jeffrey took a liking to him. The accent of Luca irritated Jenifer even more than the sounds of the truck. Jack, at the moment, was the only person who she didn't have a slight hatred for. Maybe it was because of the fact that he cared enough to return her prized tube of lipstick to her. Whatever the reason, Jenifer wanted to get out of the truck and into one where she didn't feel like slapping everybody near hear.

"I see everybody's introducing themselves like we're all in some kind of happy meet-and-greet," Jenifer stated out loud, stroking the arm of her draped sweater. "I'm Jenifer. One 'n' only,"

Looking around with a fake smile, Jenifer waved, not trying at the least to come off as a caring and polite person. She knew in the back of her mind that at least one of them thought it was weird that she cared about her appearance in the situation they were in. Observing her tattered, expensive clothes, Jenifer rolled her eyes and returned her focus back to her nails.

Joe wasn't asleep. If he appeared that way it was only because he didn't intend to engage in meaningless chatter with people he will more than likely never see again. He looked up from under his hat at the young girl crying to her mother about how much the truck was bouncing. It didn't bother Joe much though, he had spent a lot of time in old trucks like this hauling material to job sites. Joe listened closely as the motor knocked at the front of the truck.

"Probably a cylonoid going out."

He spoke quietly before retreating back underneath his hat. It wasn't nothing serious so Joe didn't think he should say anything to the drivers, they more than likely already knew. As long as they didn't stop and idle for a long period of time it would be ok. He noticed that a lot of the people had began to introduce themselves and get friendly with each other. A smile crept across his face as he began to think about how not long ago some of the people in this truck were fighting with each other to get get a seat. That's life, these days it is anyway, and things were only going to get worse. The view could be worse though. Joe had managed to get in the same truck as a few decent looking women at least. A chuckle escaped his lips when he thought about whistling at the scantly clad women as they would walk by his work. Little things like that had made each day just a little more bearable, but now it was gone. In the long run it didn't really matter, he was alive and he was going to stay that way.

The truck bounced again causing Joe to lose his train of thought.

"This is gonna be a long ride."

☣ Alexandria "Alex" Owens ☣

---

Alex was surprised that the others began introducing themselves regardless of the situation at hand. But at the same time, it brought a sense of the past back into her brutal reality; people were actually socializing. Alex had almost forgotten the concept entirely.

"Is nice to meet you all." Luca, whom Alex had just met, stated amongst the others. "It seem it was bad time for holiday."

Alex pitied Luca. She imagined how terrible it must have been to be in an estranged place when mass terror struck the nation.

"It's nice to meet you all, too." Alex managed a thin smile to form across her face.

So far she had met Jeff and his daughter, Beth (whom Alex assumed to be pregnant) along with John (maybe Jack?) and Luca.

They all seemed fairly kind to Alex, each with their different personalities and traits. Some had accents, others had extra problems of their own; nevertheless, everyone seemed to have the same exhausted, worn faces.

"I see everybody's introducing themselves like we're all in some kind of happy meet-and-greet," The blonde, who was already beginning to get under Alex's skin, addressed everyone with confidence. "I'm Jenifer. One 'n' only,"

Alex had a great urge to say something back to Jenifer to wipe that selfish smile off her face. Alex clenched her palms together, fighting the nerve. She didn't want to cause any trouble- Not in a situation like this.

"Just brush it off, Alex." She thought, biting her bottom lip as she did.

She sighed, wondering how long of a ride was left and where they were even going.

"don't mind him, my father's a bit of an old codger; he doesn't mean to be impolite.

"That's no way to call your old man, dear." Jeff resented her choice of words. "You called me an old geezer before this. I don't think that is how a proper lady should act." Although Jeff was complaining, it was very obvious that he was trying to keep the tension down. [Tension isn't good for my daughter and my future grandson/daughter. I need to keep her from feeling too overly tensed.] "But anyway, it's nice to meet you all too. World's been plunged into crazy hell and it's very, very refreshing to not see people killing each other, alive or not. I hope we can actually avoid that kind of fate and stay friendly. Nothing can ever come as good from fighting."

Jeff never really looked properly, but there is actually some quite interesting people here. A smoking joker who clearly likes to joke around when possible, a foreign tourist who was thrown into this chaos by mistake; like all of them, a lady who thinks appearance is a must even in this kind of situation, another one but with a less stuck-up feel, a serious man who prefers to be left alone, the man who calls himself John but chooses to be called Jack. And, this is quite normal for them but he still thinks that they're weird, the driver who doesn't talks with the survivors behind him. It's not the same, but it'll work out. At least for once, he isn't seeing people fight each other or eating each other.

Zac smirked at the reaction he got, he was happy to see jokes still win and often got the ball rolling for meaningful conversations. Every time Zac went to introduce himself somebody else talked. After a while he just sat there quietly until the rest of the group settled down. During that five minute pause he thought about the meaning of life, universe and everything. The thing that kept popping in his head was the number 42. When he could speak he jumped at the opportunity.

"Personally I think that life was too short to begin with, and that every moment should be used to enjoy yourself. Now with everyone's life expectancy dropping and quickly I might add, it's even more important to keep a smile on your face. If you don't, you just might forget what it means to be human." Zac said as he grabbed his bag on the ground and pulled out a few multi-vitamins and started chewing. They tasted like Flintstones gummies, but worse. Now with a terrible after taste in his mouth he continued, "Zachariah's the name and making people laugh is the game. I prefer being called Zac, but I will also answer to Zachary, Taylor, Xavier, the Z-Meister, Mr. T, and Professor X." He put emphasis on the Professor X, he wondered how many would get the joke. He decided after that one, he wouldn't make any more jokes for a bit. He found it annoying when he hung around people who made jokes all day. Fun way to spend the day...If your not getting attacked by those damn things.

After swiftly introducing herself to the others, all Jenifer did was observe and pity over her now dirty clothes that she had spent so much money on. After buying the outfit and going home, the outbreak had already started and from there nothing was normal ever again.

Everything in the truck seemed stable for a while. People continued to chat, though Jenifer didn't bother to listen to their pointless conversations. Once this truck stops, I'm so out of here, thought Jenifer, rolling her eyes whenever a new person in the truck decided to speak up with an introduction of themselves.

Later on, however, it became dark, and that's when fear finally found its place in Jenifer. She tightened her grip on her purse, looking down at her skirt just in case anything decided to come popping out in front of the people in the truck. There were whispers from everyone; they too felt the fear in the air. Everything was just so still for a moment. Then that's when the sounds emerged.

As soon as the sounds of the living dead began, Jenifer let out an ear-piercing scream. She let her scream go on for as long as she could; when she lost her breath, she took a deep one, then shrieked once again. Jenifer noticed Beth take a gun out of her boot and Luca asked if there was a weapon in the truck in his odd accent. The driver shouted for everyone to hang on and asked if anybody had a road map. Jenifer rummaged through her purse and eventually found just what the driver was looking for. He shouted for someone, and Jenifer spoke up.

"Me, I have one!" yelled Jenifer, pulling the map out of her purse. She stomped over to the driver, the sound of her heels inaudible from the sounds of the Roamers. Panicking, Jenifer forced her elbow into the driver's shoulder and showed him her map. "What do you want me to do!" cried Jenifer. Her eyes met with a Roamer's and she shrieked, stepping away from the driver.

I'm going to die. I'm totally going to die right now.

Well. It's been a good life. Hopefully whenever we finish this little road trip I can go back to the quiet bartender's life. Jack had started dozing off as the conversation came to a lull, not bothering to hold up any end of it, content with just listening, and answering small questions with one-word answers. His shoulder crushed between the rest of his body and the steel wall of the truck, Jack struggled to find a comfortable position on top of what he assumed were just boards nailed to the floor of the truck, he let out a disgruntled huff as he swung his legs, leading his body to bolt upright with the momentum.

Something didn't sound right.

Jack sidled up to the wall, his ear against the vibrating steel as the truck continued on it's way. It was hard to hear, but sure enough, he heard something that only meant one thing. And the only reason he could hear it... Damn. He nudged his bag closer to himself, slowly uncovering the shotgun and loading it with the utmost care, careful to hide it behind his leg.
"God I'm glad that Nico brought me skeet shooting all those times." He muttered, noticing the other passengers hear the unmistakable chirps and moans. But this is a different gun. And these are different times. He paused, and frowned as he was pushed off of the bench by the force coming from the infect outside, their fists banging harshly against the walls. He only hada moment to flinch before the others started to really react.

Jack glanced at Luca and frowned, sparing a moment to watch as he chanted what Jack assumed to be a prayer in that foreign language of his, Maybe it's time to get into religion. Jack shook his head as he stood, steadying himself as the truck shook and swayed slightly, hearing from behind him Luca stand up,
"Uh... weapon? Are there weapon here?" Jack was about to turn to him and offer the shotgun, only to see Beth hand him her gun, Where did she get that?!

He opened the shotgun again, and counted the shells already loaded, and frowned, pushing one more in, Just in case. He nodded and watched as the driver shouted something unintelligible, and Jenifer run to him with a map. Roamers were freely attacking the front, Jack turned to help before an especially loud thud came from the back of the truck.
Well shit. He could hear them clearly over the engine now, the Roamers becoming more and more frantic as the passengers started to prepare for the worst. And then he heard a scream coming from the driver's direction, watching as Jenifer was face to face with one of the dreaded infected. He took a step over to them and pushed her out of the way, enough to move her so he could get closer, watching as the thing started to leap towards him.

Well this is it. This is how I'm going to die. was the only thought passing through Jack's head as he put the shotgun between the Roamer's teeth, This wasn't how I planned to do this. "Anyone good with killing these things? Anything would be nice right now."

☣ Alexandria "Alex" Owens ☣

---

Darkness seeped throughout the truck, spreading into every visible corner. Alex had fallen asleep as she rested her head against her backpack. It had been a peaceful rest, unlike most nights for Alex. Her dreams were usually filled with memories that she yearned to return to; but of course, that was impossible. Many of the others had chosen to stay quiet as the night approached. Although there wasn't any sort of socialization, Alex felt as if she was surrounded by family. It was a silly thought, but since she hadn't talked to anyone for quite a while, she felt she had already known the strangers. She felt whole again.

Alex's eyes burst open as the sound of an eerie wail spiraled through her ears. She pressed herself up against her palms, her hands now shaking violently.

"No, no, no. This can't be happening." Her heart beat faster with each anxious thought. Was this just one of her nightmares? No, of course it wasn't. The fear was too realistic.

"Zbrane?" Luca, who seemed to also be shaking, addressed Jeff. "Uh... weapon? Are the weapon here?"

As quickly as he had uttered the question, Beth abruptly handed her weapon to Luca. Alex marveled at Beth's generosity. Hopefully everyone else in the vehicle had somehow gotten a weapon along the way to the airport. She couldn't imagine the terror of being defenseless. Hastily, she unzipped her backpack, pulling out a pistol of her own and turning the safety off. She cocked it quickly, considering she had already loaded it earlier.

"What do we do?" Beth anxiously asked towards the front of the truck in the driver's direction.

Alex wondered the same thing as the wails and cries suddenly increased. As they drove onward, she swore she felt the truck move as blatant banging noises started to multiply. Were those things trying to get in? Sweat dripped down her right hand as she clutched onto the pistol tightly.

“Hang on as best you can!” The driver, who seemed to be under a lot of stress, (Alex could imagine why) shouted to the passengers. “I need a navigator, anyone back there who can read a road map!?”

She looked through her backpack. Water, a few granola bars, and some ammo were all that was left inside the pack. Unfortunately, she had no such map.

“I need someone NOW!” The driver barked at the passengers.

Jenifer, who had just let out a blood-curling scream in her timid condition, surprisingly made a statement. "Me, I have one!" She yelled loudly amongst the riders. She clonked her way up to the driver with the stomping of her designer heels. Alex heard shouting at the front of the truck, which made her guess that Jenifer was petrified at the situation. Alex couldn't blame her this time, though. Everyone had a right to be disturbed.

The moans of distorted figures outside of the truck echoed in her ears. She had to do something. And fast. Her heart quickly thumped against her chest.

"I'm going to check out what's going on," She said anxiously, nodding towards each person she had just met.

Alex stood up abruptly, hurriedly walking towards the front of the truck. The truck shook as she made her way clumsily to the front. She then swung the door open which barricaded the rest of the passengers from the driver. There was Jenifer on the verge of a panic attack, and the driver, who seemed to be apart of the military, looking at a map. Through the windshield, Roamers, as she liked to call them, scurried across the street on which they were driving on. Their unnatural limbs and clouded eyes blocked her view as the truck desperately tried to continue forward. Alex was horrified.

She took a deep gulp, determined to help. "Excuse me, Sir." She addressed the driver cautiously. He seemed to be too assertive to reply. "Is there anything I can do to help? Maybe tell these people what to do in case," She paused, looking through the windshield again, apprehensive with the situation. "In case of an emergency?"

Sergeant Henderson

Henderson had been in the midst of running down a particularly fat zombie when he felt a blow on his shoulder that was mostly absorbed by his body armour but caused him to swerve violently. In a panic he reached for his pistol, intending to shoot whatever it was, fearing the van had been breached, when a distinctly human voice cried out in his ear. A map was fanned in his face like some sort of solution to all his problems.

“What do you want me to do!”

Before he could respond she gave a shriek and stepped back, taking the map with her and he almost felt like laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation. Seconds later one of the male passengers had pushed past her, somehow fitting through the small door and firing at one of the undead as it more or less fell off a car towards the truck. He was partially deafened by the blast and Gunner turned swiftly, trying to bite the offending person.

“Back! Both of you!” He snarled, Gunner barking viciously at the two of them, driving them back into the van. “Godamn civilians.” Henderson swore again, trying to read his own map as he wove through the larger groups of undead, the last thing he wanted to do was hit something the truck couldn’t plow through, they were all dead if that happened.

The undead were everywhere and only the speed of the truck was saving them right now. The creatures would see them coming, start moaning and try to grasp the truck as it went by, most of them flailing at the smooth surface to no effect.

Suddenly a soft voice sounded next to him and Gunner stopped barking long enough to lick a proffered hand before snarling at another undead as it banged off the sideview mirror.

"Excuse me, Sir." Came the words. "Is there anything I can do to help? Maybe tell these people what to do in case,” There was a pause, "In case of an emergency?"

He simply nodded to the seat next to him and held the map over his shoulder without looking at her.

“Yes. Sit down right there, look at that map and find out just how far we are from the spot labelled RS4. Keep an eye out for road signs, buildings, anything we can to find out where the hell we are. That spot,” He shook the map in her face again. “Is supposed to be a safehouse, help me get us there.”

☣ Alexandria "Alex" Owens ☣

---

Alex watched the driver nod towards the passenger seat on his right as he lifted a map behind his shoulder, practically inches away from Alex's face.

He was clothed in combat-like attire with a camouflaged helmet sitting upon his head. Typical military to Alex.

“Yes. Sit down right there, look at that map and find out just how far we are from the spot labelled RS4. Keep an eye out for road signs, buildings, anything we can to find out where the hell we are. That spot,” The soldier shook the map in her face once more. “Is supposed to be a safehouse, help me get us there.”

She grasped the map, vigorously unfolding it to view its directions, sitting down as she did. She was careful to focus on each line of direction in front of her. Her finger traced and swiveled around pinpoints that clouded the map's various destinations.

"RS4, RS4..." She thought, centralizing on what the driver had muttered to her.

Her eye's continued to dart around each and every inch of the map, hoping to fine the label of "RS4." The wails, cries, and moans of Roamers filled the atmosphere throughout the front of the truck; it only made her determination to find the safehouse even stronger.

"There!" She couldn't contain the anxiety bursting forth from within her. Her fingernail pointed at a the diminutive label "RS4" hovering above a small bullet-point. Her eyes traced the thin black-line leading towards the destination in a backwards motion, hoping to find any familiar buildings or road signs just like he had told her to.

Alex looked up from the tattered map. Roamers sustained their constant attacks against the truck, continually running into the vehicle or getting in the way of its ongoing direction. Beyond the Roamer-fest, Alex faintly viewed a shadow of an abandoned building. She looked back at the map, sighting the conventional building, which was a motel of some sort, that matched the distant structure off the side of the road.

"Ok," She turned her gaze towards the soldier. "We're about six and a half miles from RS4. To our right is a Motel 8 which obviously sets us in the direction we're supposed to go." She took a deep breath, looking back at the faded map. "So far, you should keep going straight, but once you see Exit 112, which will be to our right, you'll go through the exit and continue straight, hopefully coming across RS4. If we see a Jasper State Park sign, we're heading in the right direction. RS4 will be about one point five miles away from there."

Alex put the map in her lap, looking back at the driver. "Got all that?" She barley uttered to say, now out of breath. "Oh, and I'm Alex. I don't think we had a chance to introduce ourselves," Suddenly, Alex flinched in her seat, watching a Roamer lurch out in front of the windshield. It scraped its decaying fingernails across the glass, leaving a minute scratch as it flailed off of the vehicle. "Shit!" Her fingers tightened onto the arm rests beside her. She wondered if Jenifer and Jack, who had been pushed back into the truck during some commotion, were alright, including the rest of the others.