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Joe Harris

"This ain't livin, this is survivin."

0 · 503 views · located in Badlands

a character in “Aftermath: Survivor's Struggle”, as played by Bradok187

Description

Image
Image

Gender: Male

Age: 46

Originally From: Georgia

Former Occupation: Construction



Personality: Joe tends to stay quite and just do what needs to be done. He doesn't have any interest in forming a bond with anyone because he believes it's only a matter of time before they all go. He is only interested in surviving, everything else is luxury he can't afford. He doesn't tolerate delays or nonsense, and he isn't afraid to leave a man behind.

History: During the initial outbreak he was at a bar instead of home with his family. He fought through the streets to get home and discover his wife and daughter had been killed. Since then he hasn't cared for anyone, including himself. He tried to kill himself a few times in the days following the outbreak, but he was stopped by his brother each time. As the days rolled on and the chaos only got worse he decided to survive for his family and his brother. He can feel his age catching up to him, but these days he is determined to survive at any cost.


Image
Head- Nothing

Torso- Button Up Flannel Shirt

Back- Backpack Containing Food, Water, Ammo, and Other Essentials

Waist- 38. Revolver

Pockets- Pocket Knife, Family Photo

Legs-Blue Jeans

Feet-Leather Work Boots

So begins...

Joe Harris's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alex Owens Character Portrait: Elizabeth Dawson Character Portrait: Jenifer Drop Character Portrait: Zac Taylor Character Portrait: Jeffrey Dawson Character Portrait: Luca Dragomir
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As the Sarge yelled for them to hang on the only thing going through Zac's mind was a single word repeated numerous times over again. He had no idea what they were hitting or why all he could feel was that slight moment of weightlessness as the truck dropped into the drink. The crash into the water hurt his ears. He had been the cushion for not one person, but two. They landed right on his stomach. He was having a hard time breathing. As the first person got off of him he felt the water start to leak into the truck. He looked left and saw the cigarette that was in his mouth in two pieces and was starting to get water logged.

"God damn it. I should be put in jail for cigarette abuse." He said to himself.

The second person wasn't getting off of him. He tried to move his right arm and found it was wedged under a seat. Zac coughed as he went to move his left arm. This time he was met with a whole lot of nothing. He couldn't feel his arm. He decided against looking at it for now. The adrenaline was keeping him from feeling whatever was wrong with his arm. He moved his arm and pushed the dead guy off of him. He saw what killed him, a swift hit to the head. Blood was starting to mix with the water flowing in. He pulled his arm free and started heading towards the doors. He saw his backpack on the floor and grabbed it.

He stood at the containers' door and jumped to dry land. Zac dropped down to his knees and started kissing the ground. It was the best tasting dirt he's ever eaten. He sighed and pulled a cigarette out of his pack. He grabbed his matches and light his cancer stick.

"Thank god. I thought I'd never see dry land again."

Zac looked at his left arm and saw blood, he rolled up his sleeve and saw a gash about 3 inches long and about half an inch wide. "Hey guys not to make people panic, but I got a bad injury here. I think I need stitches, or at the very least some help. I don't think I'm cut out for this line of work."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alex Owens Character Portrait: Elizabeth Dawson Character Portrait: Jenifer Drop Character Portrait: Zac Taylor Character Portrait: Jeffrey Dawson Character Portrait: Luca Dragomir
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#, as written by Tempest
Sergeant Henderson

Henderson missed most of what was happening in the truck behind him as he knelt, taking careful aim, breathing evenly, as he fired all thirty rounds in his clip, thirty head shots, his training was paying off. He popped the exhausted clip from his assault rifle, handing automatically finding a new one and slamming it home.

He swept the area with the night vision scope and realized that they had a few precious minutes before any more of the creatures reached them, though he could see the entire horde from the 112 exit starting to spill down the embankment towards them, their moans loud enough to drown out much of the shouting behind him.

He slung the assault rifle and turned, helping to pull the survivors of the crash from the truck. A glance inside revealed a couple of causalities and he grimaced as he snapped at the others to leave them alone.

“Leave the dead! They will buy us some time.” Those words to the man who had addressed him as “hot shot”. Then to the rest of the survivors, raising his voice so they could all hear him, he continued. “Gather your gear and follow me.”

He plunged down the bank into the icy water, pausing long enough to haul his rucksack from the truck cab and un-racking the shotgun which he slung next to his assault rifle. Then he splashed his way towards the far bank, the water was not more than four feet deep but godamn was it cold!

He unclipped his pistol, fixed a flashlight to the bottom, and began to head further into the darkness. The moon, though weak, revealed a cluster of buildings nearby and if they could find shelter on a second story they might have a chance to hide until morning. With luck the undead would be too busy with the still warm bodies in the truck. If not… Well, he didn’t want to think about it.

“Come on folks, keep together, those with weapons, do NOT fire until you are 100% sure there is a zombie out there. Any gunfire will attract attention.”

He waited for the nods of agreement before turning and plunging into the field, his red flashlight lighting just enough path for him to see what was ahead. In the distance loomed potential salvation. They had to reach it, and fast.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alex Owens Character Portrait: Elizabeth Dawson Character Portrait: Jenifer Drop Character Portrait: Zac Taylor Character Portrait: Jeffrey Dawson Character Portrait: Luca Dragomir
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Luca slung the satchel onto his back, wincing as a few stabs of pain shot through his body. If he survived this, he was probably going to have some lovely bruises over the next few days.

He followed the older man who had taken lead of the terrified group, and he leapt into the water. The icy chill forced the air from his lungs in a loud exhalation of shock, this water was freezing cold! He pushed through the water and struggled up onto the bank, his teeth chattering now from the cold.

Weapons... His knife. Where was it? His numb fingers fumbled to remove the knife from the side pocket of his bag, it might not be the best thing to use to fight these things... but it was better than nothing. Luca just kept wishing he would wake up, that this was all just a really, really bad and really vivid dream. Sadly, he doubted that was going to happen.

In the distance there seemed to be buildings, perhaps they could hide there? It seemed the guy who was ahead of the group had already spotted it.

"How... how kill them?" He stammered through chattering teeth. He'd not killed one of these things before, and he had no idea how -to- do it.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alex Owens Character Portrait: Elizabeth Dawson Character Portrait: Jenifer Drop Character Portrait: Zac Taylor Character Portrait: Jeffrey Dawson Character Portrait: Luca Dragomir
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#, as written by Kaaaat
☣ Alexandria "Alex" Owens ☣




"Let's go." Was all Jeff muttered to say.

She gave him a slight nod, heading away from the woman who had just been stabbed. Alex chose not to look back. She didn't blame Jeff for his actions; times had changed, and if this was the only way to fix it, so be it.

"You did the right thing." She addressed him, tilting her head in his direction.

Alex guided the group forward, every so often checking her surroundings to see if there were any lurking Roamers nearby. So far, the group had come in close contact with two of the creatures. One had attacked Alex, the other one had bitten a helpless woman who eventually ended up dying by the hands of Jeff. If Alex was ever bitten, she would choose to be stabbed, most likely shot, too. It was the good way to go. She wouldn't want to be trapped inside a lifeless body who roamed the Earth aimlessly. She wouldn't have any purpose to life anymore. She would be nothing.

The buildings were becoming closer now with each stride. She wondered what they were once used for. Houses? Apartments? She liked to imagine normalcy amid the crisis. It was nice, maybe even relaxing to think back to how things were before. But one question remained; were there any people left inside of the buildings? Probably not, but hope was one of the few things Alex had left to hold onto.



An hour had passed, perhaps and hour and a half. The group was beginning to grow tired as they made they approached some type of nearby farmland. It had been a long walk through the creek, and a mile back they had finally exited it and made it into a dirt road. She could practically kiss the ground.

Above her stood an abandoned, but very large barn. She wondered if the outbreak hadn't hit less-known areas as badly. Because of the amount of people and how fast the pathogen could spread, her predicament was probably right.

"Okay everyone," She turned gathering the group's attention towards her. "We need to stay quiet. We don't know if there are any Roamers nearby." She looked over her shoulder, glimpsing the outline of the barn once more. The poor crowd needed refuge from the long trek to safety. Maybe they should set up camp and rest. She faced the group. "I think we should take shelter for the night as we wait for The Sergeant. Those who can shoot, make sure to surround the group as we enter."

Taking her pistol out from the backside of her pants, she brought it to her eye-level, carefully walking into the barn. The place was lifeless, cold, and miserable. The group proceeded through, eyeing their way over scattered debris. Alex kept a close eye out for Roamers. So far, there had been no cries or wails in the darkness. She only prayed it stayed that way.

After a few minutes of scoping out the place, Alex guided the group into the dormant barn. Hay had been laid across the ground, and in the corner sat a rusty ladder which could lead the group up into the wooden loft above them. Typical farmer's supplies was scattered about the area.

She had a plan, and she was going to use it.

"We'll make sure that any Roamers can't make it through by blocking the entrance. Night shifts will also be distributed to those who can use a weapon. Those who have a weapon will guard through the night, switching off every hour or so before Sarge gets here."

She met the eyes of worn out faces. "Hopefully this place is safe." She thought in her mind.

"By the time The Sarge gets here, we'll figure out what to do next. For now, let's set up camp." She sighed, taking a deep breath. "Try to find anything that will support you and others as a bed. Any source of food would be nice, too."

"Sarge, you better get here. And fast." She thought.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alex Owens Character Portrait: Elizabeth Dawson Character Portrait: Zac Taylor Character Portrait: Jeffrey Dawson Character Portrait: Luca Dragomir Character Portrait: Joe Harris
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The walk was long and painful. He was used to being on his feet all day, but not in a wet heavy feet. His steel toe boots were soaked to the bone. He could feel his feet starting to crack. Zac didn't care about what anybody else thought he was changing his socks when they reached dry land. He kept his arm raised to slow the bleeding, but he could feel the blood dripping off his elbow. He kept his finger away from the trigger to prevent any accidental shots. He didn't need to be surrounded by psycho's right now. His arm was like the freaking dinner bell.

He kept to the back of the group. Figuring if anything would happen it might as well be to him. He was already wounded. The only person who would miss him was Alex. His thoughts turned towards her. He looked around and saw nobody was even paying the least bit of attention to him. He shrugged and decided now was a great time to talk to himself.

"So, we're screwed right? Yeah, but look at this way; I got a great nurse tending to me. If everything was normal you wouldn't have even talked to her. She is definately out of my league. What makes you think she's even interested in a person to you." Zac was actually having fun talking to himself. He hadn't done it in a while. It felt relaxing.

"Well, she thinks I'm funny and her options at this point aren't really the greatest. So, you think the fact that the human race failing is the ultimate form of romance. Yup, it's official your crazy." Zac couldn't believe he lost an argument with himself. He decided to shut up and keep walking.

When the group finally hit dry land Zac immediately dropped down on his ass and took off his shoes. He ripped off his socks and threw them on a nearby rock to dry. He opened his bag and grabbed a fresh pair. He pulled them apart and slipped them on his feet.

"Oh god, I never knew that a pair of socks could feel so good." Zac exclaimed as he laid back.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Alex Owens Character Portrait: Elizabeth Dawson Character Portrait: Zac Taylor Character Portrait: Jeffrey Dawson Character Portrait: Luca Dragomir Character Portrait: Joe Harris
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Luca was used to being on his feet a lot, it came with the lifestyle. What he wasn't used too, was the panic and the fear and everything that came along with it. His entire body was shaking now from the fear, and the cold; probably a touch of shock too. The voices around him of the others were kind of fuzzy, blurry. Luca couldn't make out words, only who the sounds belonged too. Sort of.

He pressed on, moving with the group, not straying or making barely a sound. The chattering of his teeth were almost louder than his heart pounding in his chest. His feet felt awful, his socks were soggy and making squechly sounds. They'd be kicked off once they had somewhere safe to hide.

The roamers that were stumbling towards the ground terrified him and he just gripped his knife a little tighter. If they got too close, he'd have to stab them. Somewhere. All he wanted to do right now was to curl up in a ball and hide until this was all over.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Joe Harris
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Joe slowly staggered through the field as he made his approach to the area most of the others had headed to. He clenched his leg as he attempted to run and blood seeped through his pants. The screeching wails of the Infected could be heard all around as the crash site had became over run by them, and the commotion attracted dozens of others. The situation was bad and it was steadily getting worse by the minute.

Joe had gotten separated from the rest of the group due to his injured leg. He had slipped and landed on a piece on the wreckage from the truck, causing a gash on his leg. He need to apply first aid as soon as possible, but he didnt have the luxury of stopping at the moment. He could see the barn coming farm coming into view so he hurried to meet the others. As he approached however, he quickly realized what a tight spot he was in.

The infected were everywhere. The were emerging from the fields and forests in large droves, blanketing the farm in moans and hallow wails. It wasnt long before they noticed the smell of blood coming from Joe, and before he knew it they were coming at him. Joe knew he couldnt make it to the barn now, so he ran as quickly as possible towards the silo on the edge of the field.

The sound of a gun firing rang out in the night air as Joe leveled his pistol at one of the infected blocking his path. Two more shots were fired at his pursuers as he finally reached the silo and slowly began to ascend the ladder leading towards to catwalk that surrounded its top. The climb was exhausting, but a sense of relief fell over Joe as he looked down to see that none of the Infected were climbing after him. Joe sat up against the metal siding of the silo, and gave a silent prayer for those that didnt make it.