Joe Harris's Story

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.

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.

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."

"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.

The loud clanging echoed throughout the container as the screams and shouts were amplified by the hollow container. Joe immediately shot up and began looking around at the other people, each searching for answers of their own. He could hear the driver up front shouting for assistance, but from the influx of people crowding the small space that led to the cab of the truck it was a fools errand to try to speak to him. This wasn't the first time this had happened to Joe. Had had been in a U-haul with a group of survivors before he had reached the airport. The infected had surrounded the U-haul to a point that they couldn't even move. The driver had tried to run away which attracted the attention of the infected allowing a few survivors to make a break for it, Joe just hoped his luck was help him a second time.

A foreign boy was asking for a gun, and Joe finally decided to speak to the people inside the container before these kids got them killed.

"A gun wont be of any use inside here, by the way your shaking you might end up doing more harm than good. The less guns we have floating around the better"

Joe stood and braced himself up in one of the corners while he watched, and waited for the worst to happen.

When the screams started letting loose Zac dropped his usual attitude. Jokes wouldn't save them from the damn psycho's outside, and a gun would be pretty much useless right now, and when Luca asked for a gun; he wasn't jumping up to give away his baby. Yang had gotten him out of some pretty hairy situations. He couldn't believe how panicky people got when certain death surrounded them in obvious ways. He reached under his shirt and grabbed his necklace. He rubbed it three times and put it away. He wasn't really the religious type, but in times of great peril or need; God always had an open ear... and an empty heart.

"I need someone NOW!!!!"

Zacs' head shot up when the driver yelled at them, he had no clue what the guy wanted and had no intention of finding out. He was kind of relieved when he saw Jenifer walk up there. When Alex made her way up there, he wasn't to happy about that. She didn't make him want to shove screwdrivers in his ears, yet. That's when everyone started brandishing guns, 'Great, not only do I have to worry about getting eaten, now I have to worry about getting hit with a ricochet too. F#@K ME.' Zac muttered to himself.

"A gun won't be of any use inside here, by the way your shaking you might end up doing more harm than good. The less guns we have floating around the better."

The older man was the one who spoke. Zac couldn't have agreed more. He tried to resist the urge to grab Yang. The worst possible thing he could think of was the truck hitting something and started rolling, and with that all of the guns with the safeties off. It would be like the 4th of July in the truck.

"Would everybody calm down, we're in a metal truck going at least going 40. The only possible way the psycho's could enter is through the doors and they're locked," Zac didn't add the part about them probably being locked from the outside. That sure as hell wouldn't have helped morale. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes and stuck one in his mouth. He didn't light it. The smoke would only irritate people more. For now only having the thing in his mouth was all he needed.

In his little dream, Jeff thought he could finally get away from all the troubles that had always been clinging onto him like a koala and finally be able to rest easily like when he did back during the days. Oh how he missed the days when he could smile freely everyday, without giving a care to anything nor anyone but his family at all. Now the times has changed, and he was sure as hell that this isn't the time for him to be reminiscing the past. Now, he had to concentrate on getting his daughter and probably the people here to safety.

The intense wails and cries of both the living and the non-living just increases the tension in the metallic truck, and he knew that he had to somehow calm everyone down, one way or another. When Luca asked him for a gun, he was about to tell him no, Beth went ahead and passed him her gun. Then she asked for a gun from Jeff. He quickly had Beth sit back down, and rested her hands on her laps. "Dear, we won't need a gun for now. If the worst comes, I'll give you one. But for now, it's awfully cramped inside here and with the safety off, any accident would mean a life gone, and a bullet wasted. Just calm down. I'm sure our driver is getting us to safety. Let's not stress him any more." He told her, making sure that everyone heard him.

Alex and Jenifer had already went to the front of the truck to help. However, Jenifer was approached by one of them when a man pulled her back and shot it. But it was expected when the driver pushed those back into the truck. Alex was the only one who was with the driver, and Jeff assumed that the driver needed her help. He stood up, hung on to the wall to prevent him from falling, and walked to the driver seat. Along the way, he had the panicking Luca sat down and turned the safety off.

"How far until we get to the next safe-house, Alex?" He questioned the girl who sat beside the driver who clearly wore like a military. He recognized it thanks to him past experience in military. Judging from his clothing, he's a Sergeant. But he ignored that and concentrated on getting himself balanced and on the answer he was about to get from Alex.

Sergeant Henderson

Henderson gritted his teeth as he nodded to the girl, showing her that he had hear her. Once he was certain he was on the right track he did his best to tune the rest of them out which proved to only make the undead seem even louder. Gunner was between him and the girl now, eyes huge as he stared into the darkness.

"Mother of pearl..." Henderson swore to himself as he swerved around a swarm of undead that loomed suddenly from the darkness. He was certain that their numbers were dropping off though and he hadn't seen an abandoned truck in some time, hopefully they were still clustered around what remained of the last convoy.

He was impressed by his navigators nerve and had to admit some grudging admiration to himself, if they got through this in one piece he would buy her a beer, or dinner, whatever the hell she wanted. She was certainly doing her best to keep the rest of the passengers quiet which was more than he could do at the moment.

Exit 112 appeared on his right and he turned carefully, negotiating a black Lincoln town car that was flipped on its roof. The undead were scarce now and he felt himself relaxing slightly. It was a big mistake.

As the truck crested the exit he suddenly found his entire field of vision filled with undead that swung towards him as one giant creature. They filled the road from verge to verge and vanished into the darkness beyond the beams of his headlights.

"Hang on!" He roared, spinning the wheel to the left, taking the heavy truck into a 90 degree turn that must have had them standing high on only two wheels.

He mashed his foot down on the accelerator and the trucks engine screamed in protest as he plunged off the road and into the fields on the side of the road. He knew at once that they were in trouble as the heavy truck began to sink into the field, its wheels spinning and screaming in protest.

"Mother f**cker..." He muttered, the words turning into a shout of alarm as the ground in front of him vanished. He tried to hammer on the brakes but he was a second to slow and the truck heaved itself over the edge and into a deep ditch half filled with water.

The crash jerked him forward, the seatbelt preventing him from slamming face first into the metal bars as water poured in through the windows. He quickly snapped the belt, booted the door open and, with Gunner in tow, launched himself into the cold water. For a moment he feared a hand grasping at his ankle but nothing came. He looked back at the truck, its taillights burning like beacons in the darkness, the screams of the passengers inside loud in the night.

He could leave them, make his way into the woods and wait for an air evac, it would be easy. For one long moment he was tempted but then Gunner barked, grabbing his attention as the dog bounded towards the truck. He dragged himself from the creek and raced to the back of the truck, the moans of the undead getting louder, and threw the doors open, he never would know why they were locked from the outside.

"Come on, move!" He shouted at the terrified faces, turning and crouching to fire at the first of the undead that came from the darkness. There were only a few but the horde wouldn't be far behind. "Shotgun is still racked in the front, grab it if you can!"

"Hang on!"

The call came too late for Luca and soon he found himself thrown about the back of the truck like a rag doll. Water began pouring in through the window and it leaked in through the gaps of the doors.

Everything hurt, everything was loud and just when he thought he couldn't get any more scared.. it happened. Were they going to drown? Where was the driver? He managed to find his pack and he gripped it, clinging to it as if it would save him or something.

They were going to die here. Drown, or get eaten by those things. He knew it!

He clambered off of... whoever it was he'd been thrown on to, and scrambled to the doors. As he raised his hands to start pounding on them in a futule effort, they swung open and the driver stood there with the undead stumbling towards them.

"Come on, move!"

A shot was fired and Luca's ears rang, but he didn't have to be told twice. That truck was a death trap for sure, and even though they were surrounded by the infected... they probably wouldn't die quite so fast. Once he was out, he turned and helped the others get out of the truck.

Now he regretted putting that pistol down.

After being forced out of the cabin where the driver was, Jenifer just stood where she was, unknowingly squeezing Jack's arm the whole time. The panic completely blinded her from what was going on for a moment, only noticing Jeffrey rush past Jack and her and into the driver's cabin.

For a short moment, all Jenifer could feel was calmness. Maybe the horror finally got to her; Jenifer ceased breathing heavily and let go of Jack's arm. She looked around the truck, seeing the terrified expressions on most of the people in truck eighteen. I'm going to die, thought Jenifer. That sudden burst of soothing emotion ended when the truck viciously swerved. Screaming, Jenifer fell face-first onto the ground, busting her lip.

"What's going on!" cried Jenifer as she turned herself over, too afraid to pick herself up. The truck was being maneuvered wildly. The driver must have seen something alarming to cause the vehicle to drive unstably. Sounds of the driver's fierce, uninterpretable words flew out of the driver's cabin. Jenifer couldn't help but shriek due to the horrifying climax of the situation.

Suddenly, the truck felt as if it was flying in air. The ground underneath it disappeared. Jenifer's screams became louder as the truck made impact with water, the inside of the vehicle beginning to flood. She finally pulled herself off the ground and pushed through the many people dashing to the only exit of the truck. Luca scrambled to the doors and raised his hands, looking as if he was about to pound of them. Jenifer only then realized that they were locked from the outside.

The doors flew open. The driver was there, yelling for everybody to move on out of the truck. Roamers were behind him. Jenifer shoved everybody out of her way and dashed to the doors, lending her hand to the driver so that he could assist her out.

"Help me out," she demanded to the driver. Even in the predicament she was in, Jenifer was not just going to jump into freezing water. She was going to gently be let off, and what happened after that was completely up to the people who were brave enough to face the living dead approaching them.

Beth knew she was being stupid, asking her father for a gun when they were squashed in a tiny truck - Too many things could go wrong, but she just couldn't help it, Beth would do everything and anything to insure her father and child their safety.

"Hang on!"
Beth just managed to grab onto the underside of her seat she was sitting on before the truck swerved, Luca bolted and was thrown hard around the truck.
Water started to leak in and Beth finally excepted that this was it, she was going to die.

Then the doors opened, the Driver was there, yelling at them to get out. Beth's ears were still ringing and she jumped from the truck, feeling a sharp pain shoot up her leg, she had no time to worry about that now.

Suddenly Beth found herself standing in a little lake and then realised it might not be a lake of water, they were standing in the middle of the infected's feeding ground, or that's what it felt like.
Beth then held out her hand, to help her father down and watched as Jenifer demanded the driver give her a hand out.
Good God that girl infuriated her, why is she demanding help out? I'm not and I'm pregnant for crying out loud Beth though bitterly, sort of wishing she had asked someone for help out; the pain was back, but this time, more centred around her stomach.

Beth could only pray her child make it. She would be shattered if the only thing [besides her Father] that kept her fighting back; kept her trying to survive, died.

☣ Alexandria "Alex" Owens ☣

---

She looked into the clouded eyes of the undead, appearing out of no where through the eerie darkness. Her own eyes widened, looking at the sergeant with an uneasy expression.

"Hang on!" He exclaimed, jolting the steering wheel to the left. The truck tilted off of its balance.

Her heart began to race. Alex clutched onto the arm rests as the truck spun off the road. The vehicle plunged into a field, the truck now battered and damaged beyond fixing. Water began to seep through the cracks and crevasses of the van, flooding over Alex's feet. Her breathing became labored as fear struck the inside of her heart.

"Shit!" She thought with panic. Now was not a good time for an asthma attack.

The sergeant slammed on the brakes, only sending them farther down into the water with a deep crash. Alex jolted forward as her feet dangled above the invisible ground beneath her. The seat belt dug into her neck, preventing her from going through the windshield. She gasped for air once more as the agitation increased.

The sergeant had managed to escape with the snapping of his belt. Alex did the same, propelling herself off of the metal bars below her. She quickly grabbed onto the handle of the door, flinging it open as she climbed her way out. Water surged past her, forcing her grip to loosen.

"Come on, move!" The sergeant barked at the back of the vehicle, his hand motioning for everyone to evacuate.

Alex heard the cries of the infected become louder as the seconds rolled on. Her breathing was still strained. She couldn't comprehend how the asthma attack had to happen at this instant. Couldn't it wait? She forced her way up through the truck as the others escaped in front of her. Luca was helping the passengers get out, along with the sergeant.

She coughed, straining her way up the walkway towards the exit. Her fingertips tightened against the pistol, which was now more like a body part, in case of any danger approaching. Most likely, there probably was.

Alex looked up at the exit; she glimpsed Beth and Luca (who was continuing to help the others) outside the truck. At least Alex knew some of the others had made it to safety. She wondered if Zac, Jeff, and Jack were alright. She could already hear Jenifer's obnoxious voice ask the sergeant for help, so she was guessing she had at least made it out alive.

Eventually, Alex had managed to finally reach the exit, pushing her way out of the disastrous truck and into the creek. Survivors trudged around the crash sight, distraught of what to do next. She watched as distressed expressions populated her vision. She wanted to help, but unfortunately, Alex had problems of her own. The asthma attack had gotten worse as a result of the panic. She had difficulty breathing as she focused on calming herself, but the pain in her chest had enlarged. She flung her backpack off of her shoulders, desperately searching for an inhaler.

"Please let it be here..." She thought with desperation.

She rummaged through her bag until the inhaler came into view. Lurching onto it as if it would disappear, she forced the medicine into her mouth. It circulated through her lungs, making it a little less challenging to breathe; it was easier now, but she still strained.

She looked up from the inhaler, focusing her attention on what had just taken place. Her eyes viewed the sight of dismayed, confused people. What were they going to do now? All she could hear were the moans and cries of approaching Roamers. She put her finger on the trigger of her pistol, pulling it closer to herself.

When was it that he finally had the time to relax? He don't know it himself. It's probably days or weeks ago but to him, it felt like forever. The times where birds chirped happily and innocent children runs around the streets sounded like harmony to him now, even though he thought it was a pain back then. What had it all became? Thousands of walkers now replaced the children on street and the moaning and wails of them replaced the chirps. Back then, he was too naive. Way too naive. He thought his days would never come to an end. Boy, was he ever so wrong. Hours ago, they were joking happily. Minutes ago, they had a small shining glitter of hope. Now, it was all probably history.

The crash was probably what worried him the most. When the truck crashed, the thought of his daughter getting hurt roamed all around his head. Death was probably something much less worse than seeing two people; both his family, die right in front of him. He can feel water slowly filling the truck, and at the same time, he could hear the driver rushing out his door since he was close to the driver seat. Alex got out later, and in mere seconds, the back door flung open, along with Luca, who was thrown to the back of the truck by the crash. The Sergeant and Luca quickly helped escorted the passengers, and Jenifer demanded help from them. He couldn't blame her. Most humans tend to be eager to save their lives instead of others. Beth was out already, and she already had reached out her hands to save Jeff.

Jeff really wanted to take that hand. He really do. But if his daughter is safe, he doesn't have anything else to worry about other than the walkers outside. He quickly helped the other passengers inside out by pushing them up, and slowly, they got out successfully with the help of Sergeant and the others. "Go, Jenifer!" He pushed Jenifer up, awaiting for someone to take her up next. He thought that because he's old and considering the position he's in, he needs to help the others first before getting himself back up. He's really scared of death deep down, and he's already visibly shaking all over. But if he, the oldest in group, starts to panic, the others might follow and might start having negative thoughts that might slow them down on the rescuing process. "Everybody get out now! I'll help out! The Sarge and the others will take you up! Do not panic and stay calm! We're gonna get out of this alive!" Even his voice was shaky. He took the bet that the others will probably be, even a little bit, motivated to getting out of this situation alive.

But every possible moment his mind comes up with some wild consequences of his actions. [I gotta STOP THINKING ABOUT THESE THINGS, and focus on getting these people and especially my daughter to safety!]

Joe's head and back were slammed against the metal wall of the container causing him to fall to the floor in pain. He was disoriented, and he was having a hard time regaining his footing as he tried to stand. He didn't seem to be seriously injured, but the pain was easily apparent on his face. The truck must have finally crashed, Joe was half expecting it but he still wasn't prepared. That didn't really matter now though, all that mattered was getting as far away as possible. The giant container doors flung open and the soldier that had been driving was yelling for everyone to get out. At least he knew how dangerous this situation was, and with the sound of the infected growing closer the danger steadily became more real.

Joe staggered to his feet and shook his head trying to focus as he made his way to the back of the container. As he did he passed the mother and little girl that had been sitting across from him. It appeared that the girl had broken her neck in the crash, and though Joe knew the pain this woman was going through, he kept moving. As he jumped out of the truck he landed in the water and it seemed most people had already began running away. While that wasn't a bad idea at the moment, with no clue where to go next Joe decided to stay with the soldier boy for now.

"Ok then, what's the plan hotshot?"

Joe said as he walked in the direction of the soldier.