Modern-day zombie apocalypse.

Jericho watched Tim grab alcohol, of all things and could not help but voice his opinions. "Sir, if water is scarce the last thing you want to drink is liquor. Unless you have a death wish." Jericho shook his head and took a chair at the table Ava was at. Jericho never touched alcohol, seen too many bad effects show up from that.

Jericho had all he needed except rest so he decided to sit down.

Justin kept running and running and running. It was a wonder to him how he had avoided the Hunter for this long. Granted it was hurt, but it had no give in it all. It was going to come to crunch time soon. He had spent five shots on the Hunter. Right now ammo wasn't the issue but it would be soon.

After what seemed like a hours of running Justin turned into an alley way. It dead end into a large brick wall. There were fire escapes that he could use to get away from the damn beast but he was just too tired to do it anymore. Two full days without any sleep, almost a week without any real sleep. The human body could only take so much before it broke. If he could rest for even a few minutes, just enough to catch his breath. He could make up the fire escape without too much of an issue. But that god forsaken thing wasn't going to give much of a chance to do that.

One good shoot baby, give me one good shot. Justin thought to himself with his gun raised. The Hunter turned the corner slowly while letting out its hiss or moan or whatever the hell it was. In his mind, time stood still. It was like the Hunter just sat there beaming at him with hungry eyes. Justin's gun was raised at the ready. His hands shook and knees were weak. The sights showed the Hunter heads were dead aligned. The Hunter made its move and started running towards him. He pulled the trigger, sending a round down range and right in to the head of the hunter.

Justin let a sigh of relief out but he knew this was not the time to relax. Find a safe spot and get there quick. All the noise he's made in the past hour or so was bound get some real heat on him. Leaving the alley way he head up the street. A little while later he came upon a bar. A bar.... well shit if he didn't get any rest soon he was going to die anyhow, why not drunk?

Justin sneaked his way around the back. Being mindful of every step and knowing that he was going to get what he had comming to him when the got inside. Either death or sleep, there wasn't much of between on it either. He was just too damn tire and it was getting really hard to fight it. He turned the door handle silently and made his way inside. He heard the shuffling of what he hoped would be people. Well he was really hopping it would some damn rats. He shut the door quietly behind him and locked it. Drawing slow and steady breaths, Justin drew his utility knife from its sheath. With his knife in his left left hand over top his FN57 in his right. He made his way towards the shuffling sounds.

He was amazed to hear the sounds of people talking. What they were saying wasn't really important to him. Just the fact that they were alive was what really matter. He just hopped he was going to be shot at, or have to shoot them. Either way his gun was at the ready, loaded and hot to send rounds into whatever might need putting down. Turning the corner he was amazed to see how calm everyone was. With an odd look on his face Justin spoke out to the group. "You guys know there's a zombie apocalypse going on out side right? You know, the dead coming back to life and eating anything that moves?" Justin said sardonically.

Avalon Goldwin

Avalon finished her can of fruit and took off the chain from around her neck looking at it. "Where are you Nyx? God I hope your even still alive." She whispered to herself as she slipped the chain and ring into her pocket. She leaned her head back on the chair and watched Jericho sit down next to her. She smiled and shifted herself on the chairs to where she was laying down across them with her head gently resting on his lap. Everything that had happened today had drained her complete of all energy and she found herself slowly drifting to sleep. "Your welcome, for saving you today. To be honest I was scared I wouldn't get to you on time." Her eyes flicked to the guy that had just entered. "Yes we know. We're safe her for now."

With Nyx on the approach, his muscles tightened, and he set his position - and all at once when she stepped down into the cradle of his hands, he heaved up to help her perpetuate her own momentum, muscles straining painfully. Up and over, as quick as you can! One last obstacle, and they were home free - and with the streets temporarily clear, he didn't want to risk anything. Any other time, any other place, but not here.
Backing up a few paces, he wormed his machete back into its scabbard, and put as much power into those few steps as he could, and - bounding up as high as he could on one foot, locked his claws into the wood as much as he could to get as much push out of it as possible to lurch himself upwards, and snag the top of the fence. Heave, ho! Gritting through the aching burn that screamed through his shoulders, he pulled up and kicked his legs up high enough to roll his torso over the picketed top and land on his feet, crumpling down to one knee on the soft green grass. Despite how his muscles ground, and his chest burned, he couldn't help but manage a breathless, panting smile. Home free. Finally.
Despite the recent coming of Hell, the fenced-in backyard was its own quiet little piece of paradise. The slightly overgrown grass felt lush and cool between his toes, and the colorful pallet of fragrant flowers blooming in the garden limbing the back porch of the sky blue household never would have hinted that anything was ever the matter. As far as a few empty lawn chairs and barbeque grill were concerned, life was still just the same.
Stooping to scoop up the heavy gym bag, he slung it over his shoulder, and promptly yanked his machete out of its scabbard, "C'mon. Let's get inside," He remarked after he'd realized he'd just stopped. Marching right up to the back door, he futzed with the doorknob a bit. It was clearly locked, but the fact that he seemed to know better was worthy of a question or two when he lifted up, jiggled it a bit more, and the lock came loose. He couldn't help but let himself smile, even if it was just a fleeting instant, "Never did get around to gettin' the damn thing fixed, did you?" He chuckled under his breath, carefully and quietly pushing the door open.
Cautiously peering inside the dim house, he led with his machete, point first; creeping quietly on measured steps. The back door opened into a short hallway with a staggered door on either side; one opening into a small laundry room, and the other an extended pantry. He took both corners as they came; suddenly, and pointedly, leading with that machete each and every time. Satisfied, he pressed on down the hall, and into the small combined kitchen and dining room. It was tidy, and the stove and the counter were bare, but they were still clean, just like the mahogany chairs and dining table - a bit worn, but perfectly clean.
"This way; on me," He whispered over his shoulder at her as he rounded the corner to the right and button-hooked right into the right side of the living room. Grey carpet complimented white painted walls and the satin baby-blue curtains that were tied shut - and that was nothing to account for the fancy leather couch and armchair adjacent to them beneath the panoramic window pane looking out into the backyard; seated neatly in front of the big plasma screen television set that waited quietly for someone to watch it. The house was empty, and quiet; like nothing had ever happened at all.
Approaching the far corner of the room, in front of the couch, he let her take that left side, and - trusting that she still had it covered, allowed himself the brief pause he took for an almost longing stare at the small picture frame on the end table. Sensitive fingertips trickling gingerly over the brass colorcast frame, he touched it delicately; as if it were the most fragile little flower in the world that would wither and die if he handled it wrong. But that was only a moment before he just as delicately laid it face down on the polished oak surface. That wasn't the only one - there were more on the adjacent wall; an entire album's worth and more of framed family photos neatly arranged over the soft white paint. Most prominent was the one showcased smack in the center. Larger than the rest, it was a formal group photo of a hazel-eyed wolf in a plain black suit, his black fur tinged with creeping grey; posed regally beside his grey-furred feline wife in her modest white gown, and their son; the left breast of his pressed dress greens colored with rows of ribbons to compliment his staff sergeant stripes and the adroitly worn green beret upon his head, its red flash poignantly contrasting the sharp, deep color. The blue-eyed, black-furred young man pictured in uniform was unmistakable - especially when he passed right in front of the portrait to meet her at the corner of the adjacent living room hall.

Nyx followed him into the house cautiously, knife in hand, closing the door gently behind them. He lead, using his machete as he turned corners and searched rooms with her right on his heels. The pantry, and the laundry room were safe. So was the kitchen. Everything seemed so... Clean. Neat, organized, and.. cozy. Like a home should be. Looking around as she walked, Nyx was reminded that she'd never had a home like this, and filled with the familiar empty loneliness she'd always gotten whenever she looked at a happy family or a functioning home. The only positive relationship she'd ever had in her life was with her sister. And now even she might be dead.

When they reached the living room, Monday left her to cross to a little end table. She watched curiously as he lifted the picture there with such delicacy one might have expected it to shatter any minute. She watched the way his head bent over the picture, and took in his posture as he held it. It had to be very important to him. Monday then crossed the room to observe a photo hanging on the wall. The look on his face gave it away. This couldn't have been just a friend's house as he had said earlier. This had to be a family member's house or maybe a girlfriend or wife's house. She glanced at the picture he had his eyes on and took in the figures under the protective glass of the frame. No. This house belonged to his parents. It had to.

Suddenly, the house held a bigger meaning, and she glanced around the room again, trying to imagine what he must be thinking. Was he worried? Or was he confident they'd made it out? Nyx was reminded of her sister once more and her free hand went up to the gold ring hanging from her neck. Avalon. I will find you, I promise. She pinched her eyes shut for a second, overwhelmed with worry. Her sister was fantastic with weapons. Both of them were. If there was one thing their father had ever done right in his life, it was to teach them how to shoot.

When Nyx opened her eyes again, Monday was standing next to her once more and she wiped her face clean of emotion, dropping her hand back to her side. Deciding not to mention what she now suspected of the house, Nyx sighed and merely looked at him for a second before turning away, and heading back to the kitchen. The house was obviously safe. If something in it wanted to eat them, it would have already.

In the kitchen, Nyx placed her elbows on the counter and dropped her bag to the floor. She buried her face in her hands for a moment before lifting it and rubbing her eyes. There was nothing more that she wanted than a good nap, but she had to do something first. Her eyes rested on a small white phone sitting on the counter, practically begging for her to pick it up. "Give me a second." She said to Monday and reached for the phone, dragging it across the counter.

Using one hand to dial, and the other to twirl her knife on the counter, Nyx held the phone between her shoulder and ear. Once the familiar number had been dialed, and the ringing started, she leaned back and waited. One, two, three rings. Come on, come on! "Mary-Margret's orphanage and foster-care speaking. Do you have a child that needs caring for? Due to the outbreak of the infection, we are working to keep every orphaned child safe from harm." On the other end, Nyx heard the sounds of coughing, sobbing, and puking. Mary-Margret's familiar voice made her stomach lurch and she had to grip the counter to stay steady.

"Miss Margret." She spoke with a thick voice. "It's Nyx. Nyx Goldwin. I need some information."

"Ohmigoshnyxgoldwin!" Marys words were all slurred together with excitement and happiness, making Nyx cringe. The woman had always been too happy for her taste. "Yes, what do you need?" She said again, seeming to have regained her composure.

"I need information on Avalon Gol-" she glanced at Monday, unsure of how much she should say. "You know who I'm talking about. Where is she? Who was the last family to have adopted her? Don't give me any of that 'confidential information' bullshit either. You an I both know you can get me what I need." Nyx felt bad for speaking to the woman so harshly, but she had to get her point across. "Please." She added, just for good measure.

"Yes, yes, Avalon! You're probably worried sick about her. Hmm give me a minute and I'll get you the number- pause and the sound of rustling papers, more puking, coughing, and sobbing. "Ah! here it is! 1-813-839-2772, good luck Nyxie dear." And with that, the woman hung up. Obviously there were more pressing matters to attend to at the orphanage.

Nyx looked at Monday. "One more call." She spoke quickly, dialing the number Mary-Margret had given her. One, two, three, four rings. Avalon! Be there, please! Even if Avalon had left her foster family for a new life like she herself had at eighteen, maybe they would know something about her, where she was. "Hello?" A male voice answered, sounding grief-stricken and confused. Crap. What if this was Avalon's foster father and he was grieving over Ava? "Yeah, um hi." She said, a little unsure a second. "This is Nyx Goldwin. I understand Avalon used, or still, lives with you. I need you to tell me everything you can about where she is, and I need you to not ask questions."

Whether from the understanding that they were living in a new world, or the familiarity of her last name, the man answered her. "Ava was here last night, and this morning when I left. I got home an hour ago to find my wife, dead and infected, and Ava's room emptied of all her hunting gear. The stuff her father left in his will along with almost all of our canned food and water bottles. Anyway, she's not here, but it looks like she got out. Hours ago though. There's no telling if she's still alive, but she couldn't have gotten too far. Somewhere in New York City." Relief smacked Nyx like a tidal wave and she dropped the phone in shaking fingers, plopping her head into her hands to breathe a second. Avalon was alive! And here in the city! Picking up the phone, Nyx said thank you and hung it back up again, looking across the counter at Monday. Would he come with her to find her sister? She stood, but a wave of dizziness crashed over her and she landed on the ground next to her bag. Okay, maybe she should get some sleep and food first. Avalon wouldn't get too far on foot. Standing, she leaned on the kitchen counter again and looked at Monday. "Okay. I need to sleep."

Once she heard the back door open and the quiet footsteps that soon followed, Kamille felt a rush of fear jolt through her veins. Her heart pounding at what felt like the base of her throat, the young woman carefully pulled her M1911 Pistol out of the holder on her leg and took in a deep, hushed breath. Voices. Intelligent voices at that, so she should be safe. But suddenly, a jarring memory flooded back to her and she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. Don't trust anyone. Especially after what they did to him. Pushing a few stray strands off her face, Kamille lowered herself to the ground and stabilized a position at the end of the hallway. What was she even doing? Half crouching, half clinging to the wall in hopes she would just disappear into it forever and not have to deal with all this zombie shit that took away her loved ones, her life? No, she needed to move. Or at least make herself known so that one of them didn't accidentally shoot her in an impulsive stage. Shaking her head, Kamille tried to remind herself not to trust them. For all she knows, they could be no better than the looters and madmen running around New York City once all hell broke loose. But, if she was to team up with them, getting out of this place seemed all the more easy...

Right when she was about to go back into the bedroom of the vacant house that she thought was going to be a safe-haven, Kamille identified one of the voices as being female. Female! All of a sudden she felt better, well... better than the feeling she was dealing with before, but if you were to sum up her feelings in a few short words it's safe to say that she felt like a trapped animal nevertheless. Once the blonde girl rounded the corner and assuming that her teammate was soon to follow, she realized she had two split decisions to make. Swallowing hard, Kamille emerged from the shadows and before her brain had the time to tell her body to stop, words softly but sternly came out of her lips. "Don't shoot." Shit! Shit shit shit! Sometimes she felt like her lips weren't connected to her brain at all, and assuming her defensive position, the young woman emerged from the hallway. It was either flight or fight, and by the looks of this girl she was hoping it wasn't the latter.

Upon reaching the end of the hallway and approaching the kitchen, Kamille finally got a good look at the girl's friend. He was intimidating, that's for sure, and although it wasn't that uncommon in the first place to see what looked like a feline mutt, it still came as a bit of a shock. He was so big, so... furry, so strong looking. But for some reason she didn't feel as if these people were a threat, or would try to harm her in any way. Either that or she just got herself into such massive shit there was no way to get out of it so all's left to do is just go with the flow until she dies. With her pistol carefully pointed at the floor and her shoulders hunched forward in an almost defensive, yet submissive position Kamille tried to make herself seem as non-threatening as possible... which, let's face it, is pretty easy when you're a measly 115 lbs. "I didn't mean to startle you guys, I just... I didn't expect that I'd see any..." Then it suddenly registered. The dark furred mutt was the same guy she saw in that picture somewhere in that other room. Now all of a sudden, she felt like the intruder. "... I mean, I thought this house was vacant." Now she felt like an idiot. A huge idiot who just got herself into a giant mess. And by the edgy look of his female companion, she didn't look like an easy person to get along with.

Once upon a time, it had been. Some weeks ago, when the outbreak was just a semblance of some strange flu bug, and things were - relatively speaking - normal, this had been his father and his mother's home. Some weeks ago when people went about their daily lives without a real care in the world.

Days gone by.

It was a sobering thing to realize that life was gone forever, and the vacant house was just another grim reminder of that; this house, with all its worldly comforts and warm, familiar memories. Suddenly, he was torn. He'd been in and out of the Middle East so many times that the only way he could keep track anymore was the service stripes on the sleeve of his dress greens, and every time, it had been so easy to just drop what he was doing stateside to go run around the mountains of Afghanistan. Back then, war was a distant thing; far from home, where it was so much easier to put aside thoughts of friends and family and just drive on when no one else existed but him, his team, and their national counterparts. it was a strange and awkward family all on its own, but it was a kind of family nonetheless, and that made it infinitely easier to focus when it was just about him, and the guys to his left and his right. Now, the war was a home game, and a million thoughts swarmed him all at once. Thoughts of warm sunny days, and cool rainy weekends; thoughts of childhood and innocence all the way through turbulent adolescence, and an even rougher adulthood; those precious, sacred things that lived on in a bittersweet montage on the wall in front of him.

With them, came thoughts of longing and regret.

"God, what was the last thing I said to them?" Chewing his lip, he bit back the angry tears that were welling up in his eyes, gripping the handle of that machete so hard that his entire arm began to ache, "We weren't fighting, were we?" Staring hard into that family portrait, all he could feel was guilt. He and his father didn't always see eye-to-eye, and the idea that the last thing he might have said to him may very well have been 'go fuck yourself,' tore at him like a ravenous animal. He didn't know which was worse: the fact that his life was playing out like a bad Hollywood cliche, or the fact that he really couldn't remember the last thing he'd said to his old man. He couldn't stop the helpless chuckle that bubbled up, shaking his head and wiping at his eyes, "Christ, lookit me, all teary-eyed; I've gone soft, haven't I?"
It was a long minute before he wandered back into the kitchen, but for the most part, he was only listening to her conversation off-handedly. The slip of paper sitting in front of his seat at the dinner table had most of his attention instead, but he'd paid enough attention to catch her in her secret. He'd heard enough to be able to finish for her. Avalon Goldwin. So she had a sister.
Even then, he pretended not to notice, and took a mental note, instead, delicately picking up that torn half of notebook paper as he let the gym bag slump off his shoulder and onto the kitchen floor. It didn't take him anything to recognize his own father's shorthand.
"Oh, God," In that instant, his heart leapt into his throat, and he swallowed hard to keep from choking on it.

"Owen-

Remember all those corny zombie movies we used to laugh at? I remember how I used to bust your balls about how paranoid you were after reading that article in National Geographic, or whatever magazine it was some years back. Hell, I even remember you forcing me to draw up a plan, just in case. I remember how ridiculous your mother thought it was, too. Never thought you'd be right. Guess you get to say 'I told you so,' but I'm willing to bet that today, even you don't want to. I hope this letter finds you well. I figure you've made it through worse, but you're my boy, and I'm always going to worry. Figure you're probably doing the same thing right now, but if you get this letter, we're heading north through Upstate. Gonna try our luck up toward Ottawa, and then keep going. Like you said: virus probably won't do very well up where it's colder, figure it's worth a shot. Here's to hoping you're right. Your mother says she loves you; she's terrified for you. Hope you make it out of New York alright. If we make it, we'll be waiting for you at the northern cape of Hudson Bay, just like we planned.

Love you. Stay safe.

-Dad"

By the time he was halfway through the letter, he was in tears - and by the time he reached the end, he was seething, and it was all he could do to keep from breaking down. An ugly mixture of indignant rage and self-loathing misery was beginning to boil up under the surface, and that calm, collected exterior had broken away entirely - and with those blinders on, he hadn't picked up on the subtle creak of the floorboards in the hallway. In fact, it wasn't until that timid little voice piped up that he even realized there was someone else in the house. Without thinking, he dropped that letter back on the table, and whirled around. Ripping his pistol out of its holster and clicking back the hammer all in one motion, he was more than prepared to blow the young woman's (Kamille) brains - and their saftey - all over the back wall.
"Stop, fucker! Think for a fucking second!" That little voice of reason in the back of his head was the only thing in the world that saved her from an abrupt and early end. She was half a pound of trigger pressure away from a new orifice, and in that fleeting instant, all he could think of was the sanctity of his home and the safety of his family. Pistol still in hand, he stalked across the room and brushed past her, just short of jogging down the hallway.
"If I find one fucking thing out of place; so help me God," He snarled under his breath, button-hooking into the first room down the hall - his parents' room. He had to pointedly remind himself not to slam the door behind him, and it was all he could do to restrain himself from doing just that. Guilt was tearing him up inside, and the squatter (Kamille) was just caught in its path. He was just angry - beyond angry - mostly with himself.
"Christ, I'm such a fucking cunt!" He berated himself as he sunk down against the bedroom door and let his weapons drop to the carpet. He needed this...this time to be alone, even if it was just for a few minutes, because those walls had come crashing down, and all that was left was the miserable thing he'd been reduced to in all of sixty seconds. Head in his hands, all he could do now was weep.

When Kamille watched his gun point in her direction she instantly froze in her tracks. She did a good job concealing her emotions, but inside she felt like hauling ass down the street, around the corner and into oblivion. Sucking in a tight breath, her collarbones visibly making an appearance while the rest of her remained absolutely still, Kamille questioned whether or not she should raise her own gun in defense. But this man who was taller, heavier, scarier and furrier obviously wielded more power and more experience than she did. The only other time she ever fired a gun was at the shooting range, and even then she's only gone a couple of times. Her knuckles were bone white as she held onto her own pistol, and only when the cursing mutt made his way around her and down to what she assumed was his bedroom, or maybe even his parents bedroom, did she let out a short and almost choked breath.

Suddenly, Kamille had the impulse to follow him and explain that she needed to get off the streets. This place, among all the carnage and other atrocities that festered in the city, was her safest bet. Her backpack and a few other necessities lay strewn about in the bedroom and she had an immediate fear that her belongings scattered about his home would make him snap - hell, make anyone snap in this situation. Taking a step in his direction, the young woman decided it would be her safest choice to stay put. After all, she had no idea what kind of people she was dealing with. And if she was able to make him that mad... No, he's probably just stressed out. Hell, we all are. But then again, what was the one rule she kept ignoring? Don't trust anybody.

Looking back at the female standing in the kitchen, Kamille didn't know whether it was alright to relax or to keep her guard up. She looked at her up and down, from the mop of blonde hair strewn about her face to her almost meanly angelic features, then to her attire and whatever weapons she was carrying. What did she get herself into? She always did manage to attract the most interesting of people. "Listen, I don't mean any trouble..." She started, giving the girl across from her an almost apologetic expression if it wasn't for her serious demeanor. "...but I guess if you want to shoot me, shoot me. I'd rather be dead than have to live through this nightmare anyway." She let her gaurd down, standing tall at 5'6". Slipping her gun back in it's holster on her thigh, she exhaustively let her arms collapse at her sides after running her hand through her dark, long hair. At this point, it was hard not to care. It wasn't like she really wanted to live, anyway. She didn't really have anything to live for.

"There is water in the back, guy." Tim filled the rest of the crates, and looked at every body else. Any you guys have a house left to go to? We need more supplies."

When Nyx had balanced herself once more, she looked at Monday. He seemed to be focused on a letter laying on the counter. Probably from his parents. She could tell by his face that he was near his breaking point, so, deciding not to intrude, she turned her back and face the kitchen, leaning on the counter.

That was when she heard the footsteps. There was someone else in the house? Instantly, Nyx's gun was in her hand, the knife forgotten on the counter. If she had to shoot, at least the silencer would make sure she didn't alert any nearby zombies. A moment after she had her gun out, she heard a small voice come from the hallway. "Don't shoot." Defiantly female. Small and scared. The girl rounded the corner and Nyx found that her physical appearance matched her voice perfectly. She was a small girl with long dark hair. And, other than the pistol in her hand, was defiantly not a threat.

Nyx raised her gun to the girls forehead, holding it there. She wouldn't shoot unless she had to. "I didn't mean to startle you guys, I just... I didn't expect that I'd see any..." Something seemed to click in the womans mind and she sighed, lowering her gun to her side again. This girl wouldn't hurt them, the only question was whether or not she had the disease without knowing it. "... I mean, I thought this house was vacant."

That was when Monday flipped out completely. He raised his own gun, and Nyx could see his finger twitch on the trigger, something inside him had snapped. "Don't shoot Monday, you'll only alert a horde." Seeming to have realized this himself, he lowered his gun, but stalked off past the young woman. Nyx heard a door slam somewhere down the hall and figured he'd gone to a bedroom to chill. Feeling the probing eyes of the girl, Nyx turned her blue gaze back on her.

"Listen, I don't mean any trouble..." In a serious and apologetic voice that was hard not to believe. "...but I guess if you want to shoot me, shoot me. I'd rather be dead than have to live through this nightmare anyway." Nyx sighed and shook her head, slipping her gun away along with her knife. Glancing at the letter still laying on the counter, she decided to put it in one of the drawers. Whatever was in it was Monday's business. Not hers or the woman's. Slipping it away, she rubbed the back of her neck with her hand. Would she ever get some sleep.

"Nah, I'm not going to shoot you. You seem alright." She gestured towards where Monday had stalked off to and dropped her hand from her neck to the counter. "And you'll have to excuse Monday. It's been a pretty stressful day." She looked the girl over once more and hoisted herself up onto the counter. If she was going to have a conversation, standing would only waste energy. "I'm Nyx Goldwin, that was Monday, and before I decide if you can stay with us, I need to ask you a few questions. I mean, you don't have to stay with us if you don't want to, but if you do, I don't have a problem with it, and if Monday does, I'll take care of it." Exactly how, she didn't know, but she figured he wouldn't have an issue with her staying once he calmed down anyway. "Okay, I need to know what your name is first of all." Nyx pulled her hair out of her bun and massaged her head. "Also, have you been bitten or scratched by the infected? Felt any flu-like symptoms? And finally, are you any good with that gun or do you just keep it around as a toy?" Nyx tried to focus while she asked her questions, but all she could think about was Avalon and sleep. As soon as she was done talking to this girl, she'd take a long nap, eat, and shower. The thought of a shower made her wonder what she must look like to this girl, and consciously, she rubbed at the blood on her cheek while she waited for answers.

Ew. this sucks, sorry.

She let out a more relaxed sigh then, glad that the young woman in front of her wasn't going to get trigger happy. Feeling like an intruder, Kamille suddenly felt awkward and didn't know whether to stay standing or sit down. It was funny she thought, for a brief moment, how with the world ending and all she still managed to feel out of place. Raising her eyebrows slightly when Nyx spoke, she glanced behind herself to where Monday stormed off. Great, now she knows their names. What a great way to get attached. Hesitant at first, Kamille fumbled with her hands while she walked deeper into the kitchen. Deciding to take a seat at the breakfast table, she brushed her hair off of her face with her hand and took in a breath.

When she listened to Nyx, Kamille came to the conclusion that she would either love this strong female in front of her or hate her. Running her tongue along her lower lip, her brow furrowed in a confused expression, she let out the breath she had been holding in all that time. "Well, first of all my name is Kamille." Looking down at her hands while her fingers played with each other, she continued. "No, I haven't been bitten or scratched by any of those... things." What should she even call them? Zombies? That's what they are, but for some reason she can't really bring herself to say it. Looking back up, she kept eye-contact with the blonde and a few strands of hair fell over her shoulder. "I'm not sick, no. I do know what the symptoms are. I haven't had any of them." And as much as she would like to ignore it, Nyx's last question pissed her off. Frowning, her eyes glanced to the side while she answered. "I can use it better than your average Joe, but I'm probably not going to be as good as you or... him." Kamille would feel weird calling that furry creature by his name when she wasn't even introduced by him yet, so she left it vague.

And, as all females are when they are around each other, she suddenly felt self-conscious too. She had showered earlier that day, her hair dried and clean, as well as the clothes she was wearing. For a moment she felt as if maybe she came across looking too small, too innocent, too pure. The younger woman standing in front of her had no idea what she has been through, what she has done or what she has seen, but first impressions are everything right? Lacking in the badassery department, Kamille stood up and smoothed down her shirt. "I have shampoo, and soap... if you wanted to use it later." She noticed that Nyx didn't seem to have a bag, or any belongings at all other than the clothes on her back and the weapons she carried. "It looks like it's been pretty rough out there." Taking a note of the dried blood on her cheek, Kamille rubbed her left shoulder. Still sore.

"How long until, uh... your friend in there decides not to kill me?"

Nyx watched as the young woman sat at the breakfast table. She looked relieved that she wasn't in danger, but also suspicious and guarded. "Well, first of all my name is Kamille." Kamille, Nyx nodded. Nice name, she'd known a girl in the orphanage once with the same name and had always sort of envied her for it. Nyx wasn't exactly a very feminine name and even though she wasn't a very feminine girl, she'd still rather have a girls name over a boys any day. When the girl confirmed that she wasn't sick, hadn't been bitten, and could shoot, she smiled a bit, ignoring the defensive tone in her voice.

"Great." She nodded, swinging one leg. "You can stay with us if you want. Safety in numbers, but if you want to leave, be my guest." She shrugged as if she really didn't care either way.

"I have shampoo, and soap... if you wanted to use it later." Kamille said, making Nyx drop her hand from her cheek. So she'd noticed. "It looks like it's been pretty rough out there." Nyx snorted.

"Rough to say the least." She smirked and hopped off the counter, moving around to it's other side. "And yeah, I may need to borrow some shampoo." She bent and grabbed her bag from where she'd kicked it in the corner, lifting it up on the counter. "I was so busy packing weapons and food, I didn't even pay attention to shampoo. I think I managed to grab soap though." She smiled and pulled out a little soap packet triumphantly. "If you ever need any weapons let me know. I wont give you anything, but you certainly can borrow." She shrugged and laughed lightly, rubbing her neck. "I've probably got enough in here to supply an army, even if I don't use half of it, it's still good to have around, ya know?"

Tired of talking, Nyx grabbed her soap and looked at her. "Right, well I should probably shower now. Mind showing me where it's at?" She asked, "oh, and don't worry about Monday. He should be fine after he cools. It's just been kind of a stressful day."

Jericho was falling asleep while sitting up on the creaky wooden chair he was on. But as his eyes closed he felt something on his lap. His blue eyes opened suddenly to check what this object was. He looked to see a certain girl with certain blue hair that just seemed to attract Jericho. Not sure why but Jericho decided to run his finger's through Ava's very different hair. Her hair was very soft to the touch and she had alot of it. He couldnt help but think that he had just met this girl a few hours ago, yet... he started to feel something. Like now he wanted to live, he wanted to make it out alive with this girl. But he also couldn't help but think why he was feeling this way. He wanted to be really cautious because this was to good to be true.

"Your welcome, for saving you today. To be honest I was scared I wouldn't get to you on time." Jericho chuckled , "Well little Miss Blue Hair, I think i could have taken care of it. Maybe a little confrontation with a creepy hoodrat is something I wanted. But thank you anyways." He smiled and winked. He really was grateful but he did have his tanto knife that he could grab in a millisecond to impale the things head. But maybe he would not be so lucky.

Just then a man burst into the room asking a question. Startled, Jericho pulled his 1911 and aimed it at the person's face with the laser on. All of course happened within a few seconds and without moving around Ava's head. Unless the infected could start speaking and keep their flesh intact this guy was clean.

Yeah, we know. I think we all lost something or someone so don't treat it like a joke, I lost at least three good men out there with another three missing. Ava here, she killed her own foster mother. Now Im not sure about everyone else but that is a sore subject. We are just trying to refuel and refit before we head back out to that hellhole.' With his Springfield still aimed at the guy, but this time aimed at his chest, "So are you gonna cause any problems for us or are we gonna be cool here?"

Avalon Goldwin

Avalon yawned and slowly sat up looking at Justin. She lifted her hand and set it on the top of Jericho's gun making him lower it. "We've all been through a lot try to be civil towards eachother." She said before standing up and walking over to the sink to splash some cold water on her face. "Jesus Christ why is this even happening?" She asked as she walked up to Justin holding her hand out. "I'm Avalon Goldwin." She said putting on a smile. "That back there is Jericho, the idiot with the alcohol is Tim."

"Not an idiot, we can use these for moltov cocktail, cocking, and I dunno, on the ocasin drinking." Time rooled his eye's. Mabye being killed was a way out from her bitchy ness.

Justin's face took a very curious look to it. Locking eyes with the man who pointed his weapon at him. he lowered his weapon and thought about what was going on. He could not, however wrap his mind around it. He choose his words carefully. A full thirty seconds had past before he spoke even a word.

"So.... You guys are fully aware of whats going on out there." Justin paused for moment and looked they guy over. His face took an even more dumbfounded look when he realized that this guy clearly some sort of prior service. Justin pointed at the guy with his gun, his finger off the trigger. "You're prior service, and you just didn't bother to check the back door? I could have been one of those four legged stalking thingys and at the very lest gotten on of you guys." Justin said in a slightly mocking tone with a look that drove his point just a little bit more into the outfield .

Justin held out his hand and shook Ava's. "Nice to meet you Ava." He said with a smile before looking back and pointing at Tim. "You're my boy Tim. A scholar beyond your years."He waste little time getting into his real reason for being there. "It's been about two days since I had any sleep at all, about that long for food as well. I just need a remotely safe place to get some shut eye." Justin's tone was calm. A little calm for having a weapon with a laser sight aimed at his chest.

Avalon Goldwin

Avalon sighed and looked at Tim. "What evert have a few drinks and get yourself killed it's not my problem." She said as she walked back over to where her and Jericho were sitting and laid back down setting her head in his lap again. "If you feel like sticking around you can get some sleep here. Unless Tim says different I mean it is his bar." She said as she closed her eyes. suddenly she opened them again and looked at Justin. "Have you seen anyone else out there?" She asked thinking about her sister. She knew she was still alive. She had to be. Out of the two of them she was most likely the one to survive. She thought as she traced the ring that was hanging around her neck with here finger. "I've been looking for my sister."

"Avalon right? I am attempting to make a truce with you. I will take two or some thing like that, people, and then we hunt for your sister, as long as you... You know what, you don't have to do any thing." Tim went over to a bottle of sparkling apple juice and poored it into two wine glasses, and went to Justin and Jericho and gave them to him. "You want some juice, Avalon?"

"There is still a good few hundred people that I've seen in person. Thank you Tim. I'd think there is few thousand people left in the city." He had no real way of knowing what was really going on in city or how many people were really left. He did know one thing though, giving this girl hope might pay off for him later. With that in mind what's the harm? Hell she might be alive. So many people in this hell hole, there was a decent shoot at it. "Not knowing what she looks like I couldn't tell you if I had seen her not but I think the chances aren't that bad."

"So Timmy, what do you say? Care to let an old bean down on his luck get some sleep?" Justin raised his glass "Cheers laidies."

"No problem, mac." Tim always says that when a person thanks him at his bar, if ever. "I do not sleep, but you are all welcome to. I do not know how comfy these chairs are, but ou can try. Wanna set out a search party for survivours tommorow?"

Avalon sighed and looked at him. "I'm fine, and we can look for her tomorrow as a group." She said as she closed her eyes again. After a few moments she felt herself slipping into a dream. The darkness around her gave way to a room with red walls and dim lighting.the carpet was soft on her skin where she laid and the room was filled with smoke from a small incense that was burning on the dresser above her. She recognized the room from her childhood, it was her mothers. Slowly she lifted herself up off the ground and stumbled to the door frame. "Hello?" She called as she walked down the long white hallway to the stairs. "Hello?!" She called again as she got to the base of the stairs. She looked around and spotted someone sitting on the couch with their back to her, the girls long messy blonde hair fell in waves around her. "Nyx?" She asked as she walked up to her and set her hand on her shoulder to get her attention.

The blonde spun around and it was her. It was Nyx, or at least it was at one point. "No. Oh god no!" She screamed and stumbled back falling on her ass as Nyx struggled over the couch trying to get to her, her eyes the same milky white as all the other zombies. She crawled backwards until she was pressed against the wall and everything went black. That's when she woke up back in the bar screaming. She had no idea how long she had been sleeping but she didn't care. She looked around at everyone trying to hide some of her fear, not like it mattered, they had just witnessed her screaming bloody murder.

Justin downed the drink handed to him. He kinda like it, not one he would ever order first but he's had much worse than that in his life. Placing the glass on the nearest table. Justin put away his over the top knife. In truth it was to dull to be used as a weapon against a human but against a zombie it was near perfect. Justin did however pull out his Recon 1 folding knife. It was hands down, the better of the two. The blade was much stronger and sharper. His knife in left and his handgun in his right he took a seat in to a chair before ever saying a word. He was starting to worry about the brunnett that had yet to say anything. If anyone was going to try anything it was going to be her.

"Night ladies. Tim, try and get some rest. If you want to get out on a search party you'll need it. More than likely we're going to have a decent trek to find anyone."

Jericho glanced at Ava as she made him lower his gun. He turned of the laser but he hid the pistol under the table still aiming at the newcomer, just in case. He didn't trust most people and this guy somehow got passed his perimeter. But fatigue had been plaguing Jericho, he hadn't slept in 3 days and had very minimum food and water. He wasn't thinking straight, but all he needed was a few hours of shut eye and maybe a protein bar. He continued to watch the newcomer as he chastised Jericho's watch of the back door. He assumed since this was Tim's bar that Tim kept the door locked, but he wasnt gonna argue. Besides Jericho was the one with a gun aimed at this guy's knees. All Jericho did was nod, he let Ava do the talking. But she came back and laid her head back on his lap, he holstered the pistol before she laid back down though. He didnt want to scare her.

Ava talked about her sister, he started running his fingers through her hair. He leaned over a bit and whispered, Blue hair, we'll find her. We'll do it first thing after we all get a good night's rest. He looked over at the newcomer as he straightened back up, Hey bud, you wanna lock that door you came in? Barricade it if you want, but I'd advise against that. If the front door gets overrun I think our back door is our best bet. After you do that let's all get some rest, Ill do first watch. Two hour cycles. Who wants to take over after me?

After that was decided Ava was the first to fall asleep. Jericho mainly looked at her, just watching her breath. But then about an hour later she started squirming. Jericho started rubbing her arm with his hand. He was a little worried but he figured she was just having a nightmare. This was confirmed when she woke up screaming.

"Babe, you're ok. Nothings gonna get you. You're with me, I got ya." He said as he wrapped his arms around her. "Hey are you gonna be ok?" He squeezed her a bit to let her know she wasnt alone here.

Avalon Goldwin

Ava looked at Jericho and closed her eyes burying her face in his chest crying. "She's dead isn't she? Nyx is dead, I saw it. She attacked me." She said sobbing. The thought of losing her sister scared her more then the day they were split into different families.
She hadn't seen her in about seven years and the fear of never being able to see her alive again finally truly hit her, and god did it feel like she had been smacked in the face by a semi.
She sat there's for what had to be half an hour crying silently, and Jericho's shirt was soaked with tears before she was finally able to speak again. "I thought I told you about calling me miss blue hair." She said quietly scared her voice would fail her.

"She's dead isn't she? Nyx is dead, I saw it. She attacked me." Ava said as she cried into Jericho's chest. "No she's fine, dont give up hope. If she's anything like you she probably picked up a good looking guy and is protecting him from the things that go bump in the night."

Jericho sat there holding her in his arms as she cried into his chest. He wrapped both arms around her waist and held her there. He tilted his head so that his cheek was touching hers. Just so she knew she wasn't alone. They stayed like this for a few dozen minutes until she said, " I thought I told you about calling me miss blue hair." he chuckled and squeezed her a bit.

Well I like that name...