Zac Taylor's Story

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.

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."

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.

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.

☣ Alexandria "Alex" Owens ☣

---

Alex shook, goosebumps arising across her skin. She wasn't sure if it was because of the frigid water surrounding her ankles, or the immense amount of fear consuming her heart. She was guessing it was probably a mixture of both.

Looking around the sight of the crash, all she could glimpse was ultimate destruction. The truck that had once safely harbored the passengers was now tilted against the side of a ditch, containing an unknown amount of casualties. She pitied the dead, of course. After all of this fighting to stay alive, their lives were quickly taken from them in an instant. She was surprised she was even standing there let alone breathing.

"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." There was Zac, behind a crowd of survivors, rolling his sleeve up to exhibit the blood dripping down his left arm. Alex was surprised he had a bit of humor in his statement, considering what had just happened to him.

She looked at the gash in his left arm from afar. Although she hadn't had much medical training in the past, she knew a few basic steps to treating a wound.

Maybe she could help.

Hastily, through the roaming people and debris from the crash, she ran towards Zac, eventually kneeling down to his level. The wound was closer to her sight now. Perhaps she could help with it.

"Okay, Zac," She said calmly, taking his wounded arm and studying it. "Once we get to a safe haven, I'm sure I can treat it better." She pushed his blood-stained sleeve up even more to reveal the deep wound. "But for now, I'm just going to have to do the best I can, okay?" She tried to give a slight nod of encouragement.

Taking a deep breath, Alex prepared herself to do the best she could; she hoped Zac would at least trust her.

Thinking back, she remembered she had to find the cleanest object to secure the would with. Immediately searching, her eyes met the end of her tattered shirt. She didn't expect anyone to have anything better, and it was the cleanest thing she could find amidst all the destruction.

She grabbed the end of her shirt with her two hands, ripping off a small portion of the bottom. Luckily her shirt was tad large, so the fabric still touched her hips.

"Instead of gauze, this is the best we got." She looked at Zac, trying to stay positive.

Alex lengthened the ripped fabric, unraveling it into a large, thick strip and ripping it into two. Carefully admiring the wound, she took one of the two strips and gently cleaned the blood off his arm with caution. Of course she didn't dare use the water near them to help with the cleansing. It could've been infected with vial germs lurking beneath the surface; she didn't want to risk the exposure.

After alertly cleaning the gash, she took the other half of the strip of fabric, pulling it apart.

"Alright Zac," She paused, contemplating the honesty. "This might hurt, but it will help."

Gently, she wound the fabric over the wound, tying it at the ends for added pressure. It would help stop the blood.

"For now that's all I can do," She met Zac's gaze. "But to help stop the bleeding, try and keep your arm elevated until we reach a safe zone."

Alex desperately hoped Zac would be alright for the long trek to safety.

“Leave the dead! They will buy us some time.” The sergeant barked among the others in the distance.

A slight frown appeared across Alex's face. For a while, she had remained speechless; a girl who didn't display any emotion. But leaving the dead uncared for? This wasn't the humanity she used to know. She couldn't help the sorrowful expression from forming.

“Gather your gear and follow me.” The sergeant addressed everyone amid the confusion.

She sighed. "I guess that's our cue." She briefly smiled, helping Zac up as she did.

Alex decided she would try and stay close to Zac once they started the journey in case of any medical emergency. It was the least she could do.

“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.” The sergeant exclaimed, taking on the role of a true leader.

Alex clutched onto her pistol. She was going to make sure not one damn Roamer would end up touching her. She had to make it out alive.

The group plunged into the icy cold water with the sergeant taking the lead.

The driver didn't bother to help Jenifer out, and instead Jeffrey appeared from seemingly out of nowhere and pushed her out of the truck. Pushing him away in anger, she turned around and glanced at her surroundings, not even considering helping the helpless people still remaining in the trunk.

Zac spoke up about an injury, and immediately Alex went over to assist the guy. Jenifer rolled her eyes, thinking that what Alex was doing was a total waste of time and could have been done at a later time when they all weren't under the attack of Roamers.

The driver commanded everyone to gather their gear, follow him, and for the people with weapons, don't fire until they're one hundred percent sure there is a zombie out there. Jenifer grunted with anger. If she had a gun, she would've been shooting aimlessly around the surroundings in front of her to get rid of the unlucky Roamers that would take her bullet.

After the driver stopped talking, Jenifer stormed up to Zac, hands on her waist. Alex was by him, a pistol in her hands. "Can you explain to me why you're so concerned about your pathetic little wound right now that you have to waste Alex's time, who has a weapon that could probably have saved us all." looking at Zac and Alex with vicious eyes, Jenifer turned and walked away from them both.

Everybody on Truck Eighteen sure did know how to strike Jenifer's nerves.

When the group entered the freezing water, Jenifer couldn't take it. She backed out, trying to hold in her extremely loud and attention-catching scream, but failed miserably. Letting it out, it went on for a considerable amount of time. Knowing that her scream probably caught some Roamer's attention, Jenifer shrieked again in panic. Louder this time.

Zac winced when Alex grabbed his arm. The adrenaline was starting to wear off, the pain was creeping up on him. He could see that blood was pouring out to his heartbeat. It was actually kind of cool; painful, but cool.

"Once we get to a safe haven, I'm sure I can treat it better. But for now, I'm just going to have to do the best I can, okay?" She said.

Zac knew that dire situation they were in, so he wan't expecting hospital level care at a drop of a hat. He tried his hardest not to scream out from the pain. He tried not to focus on his cut, but the blood was to mesmerizing. He wasn't losing enough blood to be concerned about dying from blood loss. When Alex started ripping off her shirt Zac's eyes jumped to where she was ripping. He hoped that he would see a little skin. 'Damn it, I'm bleeding like a stuck pig and I want to see some skin from the girl who is patching me up. The hell is wrong me, oh wait I'm a guy.'

When Alex started to clean the wound, Zac watched her with such interest. He was only mildly aware of the wound screaming in pain. His mind was too focused on her. She made the cutest face concentrating on his wound. He lost track of time and before he knew it his wound was all cleaned up.

"Alright Zac, this might hurt, but it will help," She said snapping him back to reality.

He couldn't think straight, his mind was conflicting over the fact that his arm was in extruating pain and the budding interest in the girl who was patching him up. When she was done their gazes met. Zac almost looked away, but that would hint at something that might not be real. When The Sarge said to leave the dead, he saw the look she had for a quick seconds. He nodded to her. He knew this wasn't right but, that was the world today. They would grieve and honor them later.

"Gather your gear and follow me" Sarge barked at the lot of them.

Zac was grateful to Alex at least somebody cared enough to help him out. He wasn't sure he could make it if he was still bleeding. He decided to give her something that ought to make her smile. After he got up with Alex's help, he opened his backpack and stuffed something in his pocket. As The Sarge said something about not firing unless it's a zombie. Zac reached around his back and grabbed Yang. Yang was a standard Colt 1911 but instead of it's traditional silver nickle plating it was a black nickle plating with a white grip. He kept the safety on.

Zac was about to head into the water then Jennifer walked up to them. After she stopped talking Zac was astounded about how selfish she was. After she walked away and he was sure that she couldn't her him he whispered to Alex, "Ever hear that old saying: I don't have to outrun the tiger, I just have to outrun her, and a well placed bullet would make that happen."

As he followed Alex into the drink he reached into his pocket and grabbed the unopened pack of smokes and handed them to his nurse. "Hey, I want you to have these. Of course only half of the pack is yours until we get to safety and you finish patching me up then you can have the rest of them."

☣ Alexandria "Alex" Owens ☣

---

Alex's fingertips ran up her arms, grazing her shivering skin. She could faintly see billowing clouds of her cold breath evaporate into nothingness, disappearing into the night air.

The challenging trek up the creek had just begun, and she could tell it would seem like a long journey.

Zac and Alex walked onward at a constant pace as Truck Eighteen's survivors trudged through the chilling creek. Every so often, Alex stole a quick glance of Zac's patched up wound to see if everything was going well. So far, nothing happened out of the ordinary.

Suddenly, out of no where, Jenifer approached Zac, anger fuming in her expression. "Can you explain to me why you're so concerned about your pathetic little wound right now that you have to waste Alex's time, who has a weapon that could probably have saved us all." She stated angrily.

As fast as she had come, Jenifer took off, stomping through the water. Alex could practically see the steam coming out of her ears.

Alex turned towards Zac, mouth agape. She didn't know why Jenifer was so frantic about Zac's wound. Quite frankly, Alex didn't think she was wasting her time; she was helping someone with a serious wound. She almost laughed at Jenifer's outlook on the situation.

"Ever hear that old saying: I don't have to outrun the tiger, I just have to outrun her, and a well placed bullet would make that happen." Zac whispered in her ear.

Alex smiled, letting out a small chuckle. He always seemed to tie in something humorous no matter what the situation. Alex liked that about him.

"Don't tell me you want to kill Jenifer." Alex grinned at her own sarcasm. It was nice talking to someone normally again since the outbreak.

"Hey, I want you to have these. Of course only half of the pack is yours until we get to safety and you finish patching me up then you can have the rest of them." Zac handed her a pack of cigarettes with generosity.

The smokes rested in her hands like the keys to a new car. Of course she was dying to have a smoke, not to mention more than one, but she new the others would become agitated with the smell, and the flicker of the smoke itself might become a distraction to a nearby Roamer. Nevertheless, she appreciated the pack, and couldn't wait to open it.

"Thanks, Zac," She smiled again. "But I'm sure I can't have them all to myself. I think I'm at least willing to share." Her eyes met his bandage. "Not to mention, you might need a couple smokes to relive the pain after you're all stitched up."

Alex put the smokes on her back pocket, looking forward to something when they reached a safe zone. She had almost forgotten they were making their way through icy rapids.

Suddenly, an ear piercing scream made Alex flinch. She looked around, focusing on who or what it came from.

"What the hell was that?" She asked Zac.

Oh... Now Alex remembered. The scream matched the one of Jenifer's, who had shrieked earlier in the truck.

"Shit- It's Jenifer. She's gonna' end up attracting a Roamer." Alex's eyes searched through the crowd for the stupid blonde.

Boy, were they in for it now.

☣ Alexandria "Alex" Owens ☣

---

"Take these people and make for those buildings. Whatever happens, don't turn back, and don’t wait for me."

Alex watched as the sergeant ran through the crowd with great haste, his dog following behind.

"Wait! Sarge!" She exclaimed, desperately hoping to catch his attention. Much to her disappointment, she was too late; he had already dissolved into the downrush of darkness.

She bit her lip. Why did Jenifer have to be such a pain in the ass? She had forced the poor sarge to make his way back through the creek as a result of her pointless screaming. Alex hoped there weren't any Roamers where he was heading. The Sarge had to return. He had too.

Turning her attention towards the survivors, she clenched her fist, determined to make it to those buildings.

"Hurry up, Sarge." She thought.

Alex made her way towards the front of the group, giving Zac a slight nod as he left his side. She needed to act quickly. She wouldn't be responsible for these people's death.

"Everyone, listen up!" She paused, waiting for silence to cascade over the crowd. "Keep your eyes on me and those buildings in the distance." She turned, pointing a finger at the outlines of the buildings. "Whatever you do, don't turn or look back!"

She hurriedly took her pistol out of the backside of her pants. She yearned that she wouldn't end up using it. The safety was already off, and the weapon had already been cocked and ready to fire at any moment.

"Try to walk as fast as you can at an orderly pace! Those who can defend themselves, I need you on the outside of the group, weapons ready at all times."

The cries, wails, and moans of Roamers multiplied. The group had to move. And fast.

"Follow my lead!" Alex shouted, motioning her hands for the group to follow.

She proceeded through the creek with a half jog half walk pace, always turning her head to see if the group was following.

"So far, so good." She thought as the group made their way through the biting rapids. But, unfortunately, there had been no sign of The Sarge.

"Ok everyone, keep up the pace." She looked behind her shoulder as the others made their way up the hill of the creek. A few survivors stumbled upon rocks, but quickly made their way back to a balanced position. As if it were a blessing from God, the moon shined some light on their faces, lighting up the trail to safety.

But of course, Alex had second-guessed the safety thing.

She heard a few branches break behind her through the shade of surrounding trees. Was it The Sarge? She turned to look back, stopping her constant pace.

Apparently it wasn't him.

A Roamer lurched onto Alex through the obscurity, pushing her down to the ground with a large smack. The impact knocked the wind out of her stomach, causing her weapon to flail out of her grasp. She laid speechless on the ground as the infected creature sprawled its decaying arms towards her face, making it its goal to scratch her eyes out. Alex breathed heavily, flinging her backpack off her shoulders to block the Roamer's yellowing teeth from sinking into her skin.

"Shit!" Was all she managed to say.

The Roamer wailed loudly, forcing its jaw to jerk forward to try and bite Alex. She managed to squirm her arm free from beneath the Roamer, grabbing her pistol that had been sheltered by the autumn leaves. Alex promptly put her finger on the trigger, crying out as aimed the weapon. Fearing for her life, she pulled it, causing the bullet to enter the Roamer's shattered skull. It became limp as the undead 'life' disappeared from its eyes.

Alex's chest heaved up and down as she cried out once more, pushing the body off her own.

Thoughts circled through her head. She didn't know what do next. Fear had finally gotten to her, punching her in the chest with a great force. Tears managed to escape her eyes as she finally stood up, facing the group. Some of the members had turned to watch in pure panic, confused of what to do.

Alex looked into their eyes full of pain. It looked like Hell had finally risen.

"There's plenty more where that came from." She looked down at the limp and frail body that had just attacked her, motioning her weapon towards the thing.

Wiping tears from her eyes, she knew she had to stay strong for the group. She slowly walked forward as if the incident had never happened, taking her place in line again.

"Let's move out."

☣ 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.

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.

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.

☣ Alexandria "Alex" Owens ☣

---

Some of the survivors had made their way up into the loft above the group, most likely to avoid being the first to die if the group was ever attacked. It was probably a smart idea. Alex thought she might do the same. Just in case.

The group had made the barn their temporary home; blankets were found among steel shelves and were immediately used as beds. Although Alex hadn't gotten her hands on one, she didn't prefer to complain tonight. If she had to sleep on hay, so be it. Her backpack would end up being her pillow.

She decided she would be the first to take the hourly night shift to guard. She hadn't had any volunteers yet, and she wasn't expecting any. Some people were too selfish to do anything for others these day.

"Every man for himself." She thought. It sounded like a pathetic line from a war movie; too bad she couldn't get her hands on one of those. She would've killed to escape into a world of fantasy, forgetting every care and worry left in the world as she dived into a dramatic plot.

"Oh god, I never knew that a pair of socks could feel so good." Zac, whom Alex assumed had just put on a fresh pair of socks, exclaimed as he laid back into the hay.

Damn. She couldn't believe she had almost forgotten about his wound. Poor Zac had slipped through her mind during all the hustle and bustle along the journey to the barn.

Hopping her way through the blankets and resting survivors, Alex quickly made her way to Zac, eventually bending down at his level. She eyed the blood-stained bandaged wrapped tightly across his left arm.

"How you holding up?" She met his gaze, knitting her eyebrows together. Her eyes then traced downward as she studied his arm. "Mind if I have a look?" She asked, reaching for the bandage. She wanted to see how the wound had been cooperating through the challenging transition process to the barn.

Her fingertips gently grabbed the knot, untying it with willing caution. The gash was deep and red. His flesh rippled at the edges of the wound. It was a large slash, and Alex hoped she could still manage it. Dear God she hoped she still could.

"How'd this happen, anyways?" She asked, still looking at the gash.

As she listened to his reply, her heart ached. Zac was probably going through Hell, and without any amnesia, the process of sewing it up wouldn't exacty be "pain-free", to say the least. Her eyes frantically darted around the barn, searching for any sign of a fist-aid kit. She needed to tend to the gash and quickly to prevent any infection.

"You just keep it elevated, okay? I'll be back soon," She met his gaze, offering him a slight smile. She hoped it would lighten his spirits. "Just hold up for a little longer."

Alex stood up, carefully making her way across the barn. She pleaded with herself not to disturb anyone. She didn't want any cranky survivors in the morning; she had already stumbled across a few complainers along the way. Viciously looking for a first-aid kit, she made her way towards the shelves which had once held the blankets. The only contents left were a box of ammo and a few wrenches and screwdrivers piled up against each other inside a rusty container. No first-aid kit there.

"Shit." She mumbled, pressing forward towards a wooden cabinet. She hastily flung the doors open to the cabinet, rummaging her hands through its shelves.

"What do you need me to do?" Alex turned, eyeing Beth who had just stood up from her seat. Beth amazed Alex; for a woman who was pregnant, she was awfully generous.

Alex smiled. "Would you mind looking for a first-aid kit?" She paused, looking at Zac in the corner. "Zac's got a pretty bad wound, and some medical supplies would be great at the moment."

She didn't want to give Beth too much of a strenuous task with the baby and all. Since a wooden plank had been secured through the handles of the barn's door (by the help of the men of the group) there wasn't much left to do but sleep. Alex figured Beth at least needed some rest, and offering her a night shift wouldn't help Beth from getting some shut-eye.

Henderson was glad that the girl was in front of him, she wouldn't see him stumble in the dark as the exhaustion of days events started to catch up him. He was a strong man, physically and mentally fit, but thirteen hours of driving plus the past two hours of panic and terror were taking their toll.

The grass around them made gently swishing sounds as they passed, the occasional twig snapping or panicked flight of some ground nesting bird the only sound other than their breathing and foot falls. The breeze at least was warm and he felt comfortable enough despite his damp clothing and 60 pounds of equipment on his back. Some of it would have to go, he realized that now, the pack was to big and unwieldy to have on at all times, plus the assortment of weapons he carried would surely get in the way at some point.

Several times the girl turned to speak and he mimed shooting her again, glad she had finally taken the hint. That same thought came with a rush of self criticism though. It wasn't far to expect the people of truck eighteen to handle the situation well, he was the only one amongst them with any sort of training and he realized that he would need to be more patient when dealing with them.

Finally the girl had taken enough silence and whispered an introduction. He thought for a moment then replied in a whisper almost to quiet for her to hear.

"Sergeant, or Sarge will do ma'am."

Before she could ask another question he held up a hand and signalled for her to kneel as he did the same. Something was moving swiftly towards them through the undergrowth. He levelled the pistol, unsure of what would come, almost certain it was no zombie for they did have the welcome habit of moaning whenever they detected prey. Instead of shooting though, he almost cried out for joy when the shape resolved itself into Gunner, tongue hanging out, tail wagging as Henderson whispered praise in his ear and pulled a soggy, but much appreciated, treat from his combat pant pocket.

The farm wasn't far ahead now but before he could say anything to Jenifer the sound of gunshots echoed flat and clear across the fields, low moans filling the air at once. He waited but no more shots came however and no screams, whoever had done the shooting was either dead or escaped. He hoped it was the second one. He knelt next to Jenifer, his mouth almost to ear, aware suddenly of the perfume she was wearing.

"Jenifer, you need to listen carefully to me. We are going to try and make it to those buildings." He gestured in the dark towards the distant structures. "I am going to lead, you follow me, and for the love of whatever god you believe in, do not make a noise or we're both dead. Understand?'

Once she had nodded he shrugged his rucksack off and carefully re-slung his weapons so they would not impede his movement. Then he unstrapped a small folding shovel from the side of his pack and slowly clipped it open. He tested the edges of it, still as sharp as when he'd honed the edge while waiting for the truck to leave.

He took her small slender hand in his, and with Gunner stalking silently next to them , began a slow approach on the farmhouse. He wasn't entirely sure how zombies detected human presence but he wasn't going to make it any easier and so went slow and quiet.

They came across the first zombie a hundred yards from the house, the vast majority of them were clustered beneath the nearby silo, he could hear their fists beating on the metal and see where they had started to stack slightly as they climbed on top of each other to reach whoever was up there. He also caught movement on the second floor of the barn, a terrified facing peeking out quickly before ducking back inside.

The first zombie wasn't even aware of their approach as it stumbled towards the silo and Henderson moved swiftly, releasing Jenifers hand to slam the shovel blade down into the creatures skull. It gave one hideous spasm and then dropped at his feet. He dragged the blade free, cleaned it carefully on the grass and then grasped Jenifers hand again, leading her to the wall of the house.

The zombies arriving were fewer now, their moans drowning out any other noise as Henderson dispatched two more with quick blows to the head. Only once were they spotted but the zombies moans were lost amongst all the others and he allowed it to follow him into the space between the house and barn before killing it quickly.

Spade cleaned once again he knelt at the corner of the barns far side, Jenifer pressed close behind him, and scanned the open space. No zombies appeared here and he could see the doors to the barn, a small man door and two massive sliding doors. If the rest of truck eighteens survivors had made it he hoped they would be smart enough to have climbed to the second floor and removed any access, which presented a problem as much to him as zombies.

"Keep close." He hissed at Jenifer and repeated the words in a foreign language to the dog who instantly sank into a belly crawl at his heel and as one the three of them crept slowly along the side of the barn. They arrived at the big sliding doors first and he could see at once they were locked from the inside by a chain. He peered through the crack but couldn't see anything in the darkness of the barn.

The small man door was next and he found it unlocked, gently opening it, the sound of the click muffled by the moans outside. He urged Jenifer and Gunner inside before closing it just as quietly behind them, taking a 2x4 and propping it so the door couldn't be opened again from outside.

The three waited for a moment in the darkness before Henderson motioned for Jenifer to wait as he hoisted himself into the rafters. He could hear frightened whispers now and the sound of movement.

"Truck eighteen." He called quietly. Nothing. He tried again, louder this time.

Jenifer was a bit irritated when Sarge didn't reveal his true name. She hated nicknames, titles, or whatever else that's used to replace a person's name. Before she could ask another question, Sarge motioned for her to kneel down. Jenifer grunted, following his command. Once her knee made contact with the ground, Jenifer heard what Sarge was hearing. Something was heading towards them quickly. When Sarge leveled his pistol, fear struck Jenifer, and the need to scream arose in her system.

A black dog emerged from the dark and Sarge looked like he was about to burst with joy. They had a little reunion party, which Jenifer kind of admired. She was about to comment on how cute she thought the dog was when the sound of gunshots fired through the air.

Sarge focused Jenifer's attention on him and told her that they were going to head towards the distant buildings in the darkness. When he mentioned that they were both dead if she made a noise, Jenifer's heart began to beat much more swiftly. That little task she was given already seemed too much to handle. She nodded anyways and Sarge began to fix and adjust his weaponry. A folding shovel was one of the weapons he had and Jenifer started to become more afraid of the incoming events. Sarge took her hand and they began their journey to the others of Truck Eighteen.

What came next dashed by to Jenifer. All she could remember was Sarge attacking a zombie with a shovel and that's it; everything else was a giant blur. She was urged into darkness with Sarge's dog and soon Sarge joined them. They all waited in darkness for a short moment. Jenifer could hear muffled voices inside the building they were in.

Sarge called out for Truck Eighteen. When he got no response, he repeated. Jenifer observed the darkness, trying to see if she could make out any human bodies.

"Hello?" whispered Jenifer, shortly after Sarge's second call. His dog snuggled close to her legs, making Jenifer feel safe for just a short moment.

As Zac started moving his toes in his fresh pair of socks his lovely nurse was heading towards him. He wasn't worried about being forgotten about. He knew he wasn't going to die of blood loss. No, his two biggest concerns about the wound was either it was going to get infected or he could get blood poisoning. That's not counting the fact his bloody arm smelled like turkey dinner on Thanksgiving to those things.

"How you holding up?" Alex asked getting close to him. It was a difficult question, instead of the searing stabbing pain he was expecting his arm to experience; he got a dull ache pain that just kept reminding himself that he was badly hurt and he should stop moving and let it heal. Before he could answer her she popped out, "Mind if I have a look?" He nodded and prepared himself for the terrible pain from taking off a bandage.

Once again Zac couldn't bear looking at his cut. He knew that if he looked at it, it would feel a whole lot worse. Instead of focusing on his wound he decided that he would concentrate on her. He saw the subtle differences from when she's concentrating and when she isn't. When she took off the bandage Zac couldn't stay completely quiet. Some of the blood had dried on the fabric and on his cut. So when she took it off; his arm hair, the edges of the cut, and some skin patches came with it. He let out a tiny whimper. Today was not going his way.

"How'd this happen, anyways?" She asked looked at his wound.

"Honestly, I don't remember. The last thing I remember before the crash was the moment I knew we were crashing. All I could think was fuck over and over again. Then the next thing I knew two people were on top of me and my right arm was wedged under something. Even that part is still fuzzy. Anyway, long story short, I push the dead guy off of me with my bad arm and got my arm free and proceeded to jump out of the car and get patched up by the coolest person here." He said as he smiled.

Almost as soon as he finished she told him she would be back and keep his arm elevated. He silently agreed and held his hand horizontal and facing up. He forced himself not to look at it. A few moments later he thought he heard somebody call out. Then again, and finally he heard Jenifer. As soon as he heard her voice he almost considered not even acknowledging her. Then he realized that Sarge went back for her. He couldn't leave him out to die, her on the other hand well... Zac looked around and tried to discover the location of the sound. He decided to inch his way to the ledge of the loft.

"Sarge is that you?" He didn't exactly yell it, but he really didn't whisper it either.