Andre Rollins's Story

"The fuck" Andre mumbled as he fought with a bush that was shrouding his view. If anyone would have seen the way he was batting at the plant, their gut would be busting and they'd be laughing their asses off. Finally he gave up and pushed through it, unknowingly exposing himself to a pack of undernourished, pale-skinned, mindless sadists. But no laughter came. Only gnashing of teeth and snarls and grabby hands.

In town, he had made a break for it down an alley to escape this same undead party. How they circled around so fast he had no idea as he inched away from the forsaken floral shop. Then again, they all looked the same. Irregardless of them all having a life and stories before their transformation, they were clones now. He bit at his lip uneasily, backing against the bush that had just given him so much grief. Now he felt like he owed it an apology, he'd obviously taken its cover for granted. His hand patted at his pocket; the utility knife was gone. Tucked by his ankle was the boning knife but if he took the time to reach down it might have been the last thing he ever did. There was nothing in his backpack that could make a dent in the horrible reality standing, well, pushing towards him.

He almost fell over a pot of deceased flowers in his backwards scuffle, dodging a hand bearing a denounced, dulled bone. It belonged to an especially large, round ghoul that even in the afterlife, visibly didn't go hungry. His size and stature probably trapped many poor folks. Behind him, as if he were the mayor of the undead, reaching over his shoulders treacherously, were at least seven others. One skinny, petrified looking lackey managed to find a loophole, uncommon for the most part. Andre hadn't seen any type of common sense displayed by the zombies and was a little shocked when the hollow-cheeked one slipped beneath the shoulder of fat boy.

An escape route was what he needed but search results were coming up empty as his eyes scanned the streets. They were overrun despite the scattered state of the undead, gawking and witlessly stumbling around, bumping into each other. In the time he took to look down the road, skinny minnie had drawn dangerously close.

Instinctively and pathetically, Andre drew back his fist. A scream ripped through the air, terrorizing in sound and alarming in nature to the lifeless legions. All of their heads snapped in immediate attention as whatever focus they had was consigned to oblivion. Fat boy nearly knocked his posse over as he clomped towards the siren, perhaps the only known communication that existed amid the reanimated. His eyes widened as he stood stark-still, staring at what used to be an elderly woman, judging by her patchy white hair.

The ear-splitting noise came from the gas station a short distance away but was silenced in seconds. Still, the crowds drew. Skinny minnie had scrabbled away, her head thrashing at an odd angle as she chomped her teeth. In the alleyway a block over, he heard the clanging of metal and the sounds of multiple footsteps. They were wheeling around and coming back. He could never catch a break.

From a bench outside of the flowers shop, Andre gripped the edge of the gutter and managed to latch onto a shingle while his free hand tossed up his backpack. As he hoisted himself up, he hoped the roof was holding up better than half the ones in town. The shingle his right hand gripped came loose, causing him to hang half-on and half-off the outer edge of the roof. He stifled a helpless moan as he swung his dangling leg onto the roof and gained some balance. He stood triumphantly, noting, "I should get some gloves." His lips pressed firmly together as he strained his ears at the sound of actual verbalized words. Someone was nearby.

Daniel just sat on the edge of the roof watching the zombies below trying to get to him. "Man i'm an idiot" he said to himself. He thought he was done for, sure he wouldn't get ripped to shreds but he was probably going to starve to death eventually. Daniel started to get bored, boredom shouldn't have been at the top of his mind at the moment but that was the sort of guy he was, it was probably the reason that he tried to mock the zombie at the gas station. Daniel looked around for something to do, there was nothing but then again it was a roof so of course there would be nothing to do. Daniel then got an idea, there were some rocks laying on the roof, some kids must have thrown them up before the apocalypse. He picked up a rock and dropped it off the roof, he managed to hit a zombie straight on the head. Daniel laughed to himself with mild amusement, he did it again and again trying to hit zombies until he ran out of rocks. It was strange how the smallest things amused him, but in this new world simple things were so much more important.

He sat there for a while thinking of something to do, still hearing the endless groaning of the zombies. Then he heard something from behind him. He saw an arm reaching over the side of the roof and pull itself up. It was a young man, he was around the same age as Daniel, "How the heck did you get here?" he asked. Daniel looked at him wondering if he had come up to save him, or maybe he had just fallen into the same dumb trap as Daniel. Then before Daniel could ask anything else a object whizzed past his head hitting the roof, he looked around "What the...?" he said. Daniel went back to the edge and saw a girl on a roof, "What the hell are you doing you almost hit me!" he shouted forgetting about the whole situation he was in. Daniel then noticed that she was quite attractive "Oh ah... Hey, you okay over there miss?" he shouted to her. Wow shes cute Daniel thought to himself. He then noticed another man waving his arms on another roof and a car in the street. "Guess those screaming ones attract more than just zombies." he said. Daniel waved back and shouted "Hey dude, can you help us get down from here, i'm kinda in a bind right now"

Humongous crowds of the lifeless were drawing; they gnashed their teeth, clawed and snarled all along at least six buildings. Unfortunately, there were only more survivors trapped by this. The dead to living ratio was a joke. Dre pulled himself onto the flat top of the roof only to see that with perseverance also came a vast amount of jump-the-gun type of stupidity. Luckily for Andre, the small group on the roof top and inevitably the adjacent areas pulled the attention of more than a few by the flower shop.

"C'mon, man," Andre said, faintly making out a girl and a couple of guys. "Stupid motherfuckers," he mumbled. He tightened his backpack to him so that his next bound would have little to no recoil. The last thing he needed was to jump a building, barely making it as usual, then have his backpack boomerang on him and send him over the edge. Vaults across rooftops were nothing to him but after doing this a handful of times, he learned that his long legs had little stride when it came to jumping. Potentially risking his life to hop roofs was predictable. It was an every-goddamn-day sort of thing you just learn to live with or not live at all. The obvious option always prevailed.

His once untainted jeans were marred by blood and grime. With a grunt, he cuffed the bottom of them a little before his next valiant jaunt. Once he had a running start he was surprised by how quickly he made it over at least four buildings in the opposite direction of all the donnybrook ensuing hardly a yard away.

He stopped dead, resting his hands on his knees when an arrow narrowly missed his ear. Attention would be on him if he thew up his hands and cursed like he wanted to. So he just continued, a bit more hunkered down. Until he reached too large of a gap, he didn't stop. At the sight of the unconquerable distance, he plopped on the ground, rolling of the flat roof top and catching his breath. Sweat trickled down his forehead. Shit, I don't remember it ever being this hot in Chesapeake.

Trundling to sit upright, he looked into the distance. It couldn't have been but half a mile off, the hills and woods he was too scared to venture into before. It looked like the safest bet in the recent state of affairs. The town would be crawling with them by nightfall and the darkness was already threatening overhead.

Soft hazel eyes stole a glimpse at the descending sun which was undoubtedly planning its rest beneath a blanket of Chesapeake water. That was the way his mom described it to him when he was little. "Sleep comes for the sun too, watch it sink beneath the bay, soon it comes for you too, sleepy little Andre." Still the homemade nursery rhyme followed him everywhere, coming out to play misery on his mind every day when he watched the sun set.

He reached over his own shoulders to unsnap a hat from his overnighter that had ironically been morphed into an everydayandnighter. With one hand, he wiped the condensation from his face, and with the other put on a rearward snapback. The woods were likely more dangerous at night; Andre was by no means a nature man who could set up organic booby traps. It was easier to hole himself up in an attic and string fishing wire all over the place. He had to decide where to go next, and that decision only had a small block of seconds in which it could be made.

Daniel heard the idea to jump between the gap of the buildings, "Are you crazy!?" he shouted over to the young man. There must have been a better and much safer way of getting away. It was a double edged sword of a situation, if made the jump and reached the other side, he would be safe from harm, or as safe as you can get in an apocalypse, but if he didn't complete the jump he would probably die falling to the ground and even if he survived the fall it would be an open meal for the zombies. It was a crazy idea. Then all of a sudden the other man trapped with him rushed past Daniel and jumped off the building, he had managed to make the gap and was safe on the other side and then proceeded to vault some other buildings. Daniel scratched his head, "What the...?" he said to himself, he wondered if people had just lost their mind in this world. Then he saw the girl again, he couldn't make himself look bad in front of a pretty girl like her. Sometimes Daniels love for women got the better of him and made him do things he wouldn't normally do and what other choice did he have, he couldn't just stay there.

Daniel took a few steps back onto the edge of the roof, he took a big breath of air as he prepared for the jump. What am I doing? This is nuts he thought to himself. Then all of a sudden he launched forward sprinting to the other side of the building leaping from the building. He could feel the air rushing against his face as he went through the air. Then he started to drop slightly, but he was close to the edge of the next building. He reached a leg out as it landed onto the building, however his other leg slipped and hung off the side, he reached his arms out holding onto the roof. Daniel pulled himself up and safely onto the roof. He had his arms spread out onto the roof almost as if he was hugging it. He then slowly pulled himself up, "WOO! That was fun!" he shouted, trying not to laugh.

Sophia now certainly knew that there where no humans coming towards her way. The crooked screams came closer and closer, and her expectations were confirmed: there was a big group of zombies moving quickly towards her. Not hestitating for a sec Sophia decided it was time to run. She put her legs in front of the other as fast as she could, but she knew she'd be exhausted quickly. Pregnant women shouldn't be running after all. But it was her only chance of making it out alive. So she figured if she'd make it to the city her chances of survival would be the biggest.

The zombies shrieked wildly as their hunger for human flesh grew. They kept on chasing her down, even in the down they didn't stop. As Sophia saw the first blocks of houses form a transition with the forest, she knew that town wouldn't be far from now. And she was right, about 2 minutes later she found herself running in the town. She'd have to think fast and make the right decisions. Knowing that any choice could be fatal she felt a rush of adrenaline. No people seemed to be near. A bit of a panicy feel struck her and she looked around with a worried expression on her face. Just as she felt like she was too exhausted to stay in front of the zombies she saw a group of people on a rooftop. She shouted at them as she climbed the fire escape that was on the side of the building, followed by the zombies who were trying to crawl up to it. Surprisingly, by forming an almost ant-like colony they managed to get up the stairs. Sophia climbed faster but as she neared the end of the stairs she saw that they weren't reaching the rooftop. She knew that her life, and that of her unborn baby, now depended on the people on the rooftop. So Sophia shouted, as loud as she could, hoping she'd get over the terrifying screams of hunger the zombies made.

''Help! I can't reach the roof!'' she shouted, hoping the group of people would hear.

Hannah

Hannah smirked as she caught the boys attention, as he began yelling at her, but as he realized she was a girl, his tone changed, turning into more of a flirty voice. She shrugged it off though, looking at the zombies now surrounding the small building. He's going to get himself killed if he doesn't move, she thought, her eyes tracing the outlines of the building. Not only did she not have a long distance gun to help him, but picking off a few of them would do no good. They would either have to blow up the lot, or get out of there as soon as possible. And judging by the three boys around, that would be the plan. Looking back to the building, her eyes caught on one who had found the handicap access, her eyes getting wide as she realized the boy didn't see it. As the zombie reached the top of it, she was able to see that like herself, he was a young kid. And before it was shot, memories flooded into her head. Memories of Zach, their now undead companion. After assisting in their fight against the zombies, Zach had gotten bit. but Zach had been more than just a helper to their fight, he had been Hannah's best friend, and what was harder than him getting bit, was having to watch her brother shoot him. Zach had gotten bit in the stomach, and as amputating his stomach wasn't an option, Zach told Christian that he wanted him to kill him. And after a while of trying hard not to, he eventually decided it was better than Zach going through the process. So, as Charlotte held Hannah back, trying to avoid her claws, screaming, and biting. Christian had pointed the gun at his head, Hannah starting to sob, and -

The sound of one of the boys voices dragged her back from the past, and into reality. Hannah nodded her head lightly, then watching two boys proceeded to jump the gap to the building the other boy was on, and she now being the only one not on it, took the tiny jump in between the two buildings. She looked over the three boys, and each slightly different in their own ways, but each not that different. She looked down at herself then, grabbing the walkie talkie from the clip on her pants, picking it up and pressing it right infront of her mouth, speaking quietly into it. "Found some others. She said simply, slipping the clip back on, then looking at the glock in her hands. The outfit she was wearing was pretty weird, a loose grey shirt made of some soft material, with a green thin jacket. She wore leggings, the ones she had in her overnight bag before the outbreak had begun, and the same mid calf boots as usual, the ones she had built knife holders into. Looking over the side of the building, she glanced at the black truck, and the boy inside. She loved trucks. A lot. Hannah breathed quickly, deciding if it was a good idea or not to go along, and basically trust these strangers she'd never met. It's worth it, she thought, the releif of getting away from her brother and his girlfriend overwhelming.

"Shit! She muttered, seeing a girl attemping to climb onto the roof, though not being able to. She ran over, taking two simple leaps to get there before leaning over the side, crouching down and sticking out her arm to help her up. She knew she was strong enough to lift her, though she did hope one of the boys would be smart enough to grab ahold of her legs, and hold her down just to make sure. "Grab my arm, I'll lift you!" She said, trying to be quiet as to not attract more zombies, though it wouldn't do much.

Will Moon

Just outside town, a man in a black motorcycle helmet laid on an embankment, just out of sight. He was out scouting the town to see what it had to offer; prospers and dangers both. It was important to know what you were getting into before you got into it. Some people didn't have that kind of foresight, and a lot of those people were dead. Still, it didn't matter who you were in the life before. The world the way it was now, it changes people. Will adapted quickly, as he's always known how to do. Keep your eyes open, conserve ammunition, stay quiet, and always keep on the move.

But, sometimes the world changes you for the worse. Too often had he seen other people leaving behind the people they were with because they thought whoever was too weak to contribute. Their goal was survival, sure, but at what cost? And the way he saw it, the more people survived, the better the chance for humans as a species to survive. Extinction was on the horizon, and if saving someone helped in any way to bring them back from the brink, then that's what he would do.

As he laid on the ground, he heard a scream from nearby. It wasn't a human scream. Instead it was the scream of one of the dead. They screamed and any dead that heard would turn and go to the sound. He'd had his share of run-ins with them, and barely escaped with his life each time. Things were about to get a lot more dangerous around here, especially for whoever set off the alarm.

Shortly after, a girl ran by, just feet from him, being chased by several of the undead. Apparently, she hadn't noticed him. It was a good thing he wasn't one of them, or anybody else that wanted to take advantage of her; it wouldn't have been difficult from where he was lying. She made her way up the fire escape of a nearby building; they followed. The dead were making their own way closer to her, but before he could do anything, another girl arrived and helped her up onto the roof.

Immediately afterwards, Will sprung into high-gear and ran to a spot nearby where his motorcycle was hidden by shrubbery. Once it was uncovered, he revved the engine and sped to where he'd heard the screamer sound off. Already a large crowd had gathered near a gas station. On top of a nearby roof was a man, possibly the one who had alerted the screamer, and more on other rooftops. He stopped several yards from the gathering crowd and deliberated what to do next. First, he checked around him to see the immediate danger he was in. A few amblers behind him and to the sides, but they weren't close enough to be a major threat yet.

Will revved his engine in an attempt to get the attention of some of the crowd. Nothing happened. He revved it again, this time gaining the attention of a few of them. Three, then four, then five. Soon, a large portion of the crowd had their attention on Will and his black sport bike. As he made a quick turn and sped off in the direction he'd come, the number following after him numbered nearly ten and more were starting to trickle off in his direction.

Not much further down the street, Will braked and turned his bike back around, facing the coming group. As they marched his direction, he drew his pistol and took careful aim. When they were close, he fired off two shots, dropping two. The goal was to draw even more off with the shots. After which, he would lead them on a merry chase away from the man who had been trapped, as well as the others around him.

The ones he'd drawn off drew nearer, just as planned. Before they could get too close, he wheeled back around and sped down the road out of town - the same way he'd come into town. When he was sure he was far enough ahead of the dead, he pulled to the side of the road and got off the bike. His next moves were into the woods, where he intended to follow the road back into town, hidden off from all the ones that had followed him away from the large group.

Noah Winters

Noah sighed and folded his arms over his chest. He knew it. This guy was going to rope him into some suicide mission. But, maybe, just maybe, if he helped this guy, they could get some weapons and maybe he'd help him look for his daughter. He looked like he could hold his own in a fight.

Besides, it was starting to get dark. It wasn't a good thing to be out when it was dark. They snuck up on you much easier than in the day. He'd probably have to push through a crowd of the dead by himself anyway on his way back to where he was staying. Better to have this guy, and maybe the girl.

Reluctantly, he agreed as he made his way back down the stairs, "Alright. Let's do it."

If this guy gets me trapped and I can't get to my daughter because of him--

He scowled as he reached the bottom of the stairs and approached the living room window. At that moment, two shots rang out from the direction of the screamer. Immediately, Noah turned his head to attention.

Shit. It sounds like someone's got themselves in real trouble.

Noah did his best to ignore the thought. If he thought too much about it, it would wreck him. Now was a time to focus on getting himself out of this position and back into one where he could look for his daughter. That's all he cared about now, and if anyone got in the way of that, they'd be in real trouble.

While downstairs, he looked for the girl and called out to her softly, "Hey. We're going out to try to get to the police station. You can come with us if you want." He didn't exactly expect her to come with them, if she was even around or had even heard him. It was still not a great idea in his mind, but he'd already made his decision.

Although it seemed initially that the boy on the roof across from him was going to argue with his suggestion or just completely ignore him, the movement of the third boy jumping across the first gap and then a few more appeared to catalyze his actions. Micah, who'd until that point still been standing on the edge of the roof, took a couple quick steps backward when he realized the other man was going to finally going to jump. "You can do it," he encouraged as he watched from the safety of his roof, ready to run back to the precipice if he was needed. As the other man kicked off, running head-long toward the edge, Micah allowed his gaze to shift momentarily to where their truck idled- his older brother hanging out the window. "Odd..." he allowed himself to think for a moment before he turned back to watch the stranger fling himself across the gap. He'd have to see what that was about later.

One foot landed on the edge of the roof and it seemed the other was about to make it when the other man began to slowly pitch backward. Micah raced forward a step before the stranger flung himself forward and lay hugging the roof as if it were his savior. A long, relieved breath whooshed out of his lips as he took a step toward the man on the ground to help him up. However before he could reach him, the stranger popped up off the roof with an excited "WOO! That was fun!" This man truly must be a little messed in the head to think such a dangerous stunt to be exciting, but Micah was just glad that guy was alive and safe.

Movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention and Micah turned to watch one of the girls on the roof whirl on the heel of her boot to go jogging back the way she had come. Raising an eyebrow, he turned to watch her quizzically. When she flattened herself on the roof and reached down, he lept into motion as well. With a quick, "Follow me!", he took two flying-leaps to reach the girl that was now attempting to haul someone else onto the skyline. Micah leaned over the side to catch site of what was happening only to be greeted with a girl with a swollen belly attempting to pull herself up using the gutter. Allowing the girl beside him to take one arm, Micah leaned across her body and wrapped his hands around the other, "On three? One-two-three!" A second later the pregnant girl was up on the roof, safe.

Biting his lip a little, Micah finally realized it was probably time to call his brother, even though he knew Aaron wasn't going to like this- not one bit. So he fished the walkie talkie out of his vest pocket and pushed down the button to speak, "Hey Aaron? You there?" When a crackled response of confirmation along with a casual explicative sounded across the airwaves, he heaved a sigh and pushed the button down again, "Well- you're not gunna like this but.... I need you to drive the truck about four houses down and then park and wait for us.... We're giving some people a lift..."






Still leaning from the window of the truck, smoke wreathing his head, Aaron watched as his brother tried to get the man on the roof to do something. After flicking the stub of his cigarette into the street and yanking out another, the truck's driver pulled himself out to sit on the window sill. "Just leave him," he grumbled through the smoke that poured from his lips, "If the Dick doesn't wanna jump, let him get eaten." Of course, his hopes were dashed against the rocks as the man on the roof took a que from some other person jumping off in another direction and readied himself to jump. The man flew across the gap, just barely making it at the last second onto the roof. "Damn," the word slipped out of him as he simultaneously slid back into the cabin. Undoubtably his brother had coaxed the man over with promises for something Aaron wouldn't like- that's how it always was with the boy.

As he watched a small pack of zombies detached itself from the main group and shuffled off with their noses in the air obviously scenting some new flesh. The pack ambled off and turned a corner down an alley where he could no longer see them. As he watched another pack broke off and a black motorcycle carrying a living passenger sped away with the zombies on its tail. Shaking his head at the other person's audacity, Aaron smirked and saluted the man before movement just above where the other group had disappeared to made his gaze sweep upward and what he saw made him sigh exasperatedly again. Micah and some girl were crouched on the side of the building, and as he watched they yanked someone else up onto the room. "This doesn't bode well for me," he sighed as he began to roll up the window in preparation for the call he'd inevitably get over the radio.

No sooner had the special double-reinforced glass clicked shut when a static-filled voice crackled at him from his pocket. Aaron yanked out the radio and listened to his brother's southern drawl ask for him before responding, "Yea Stupid-ass, I'm here... unfortunately." All of his fears were confirmed with the next statement the radio announced to him. Instantly Aaron clicked the button down and replied, "No fucking way Tanto- that is not happening. Not in a million years. Just get your ass off the roof and let's go home. They got themselves there, they can get themselves away."

"But Aaron," the response came back, "We just- we can't leave them. This girl's pregnant! It's life Aaron."

Shaking his head, the older brother responded matter-of-factly, "Since when do I care? That's your schtick man, I'm not getting involved."

"Just do it, please... or... or I'm staying up here- try to keep your promise with that."

"Damn...." that boy always knew just how to get him to do exactly what he didn't want to. "Fine, but this is the last time. Seriously. Next time I'm leaving you too, got it?" Not even bothering to hear the response, he turned the key and the engine once again thundered to life. None of the zombies in front of him even cared to turn- it wasn't meat, so it didn't matter- as he put his foot to the pedal. Then the huge truck was plowing through the edges of the crowd in front of it- crushing skulls and severing bodies as it made its quick progress through the mass of swarming limbs. A couple houses down and the crowd thinned to nearly nothing, just a few crawlers that couldn't keep up with hoard. Aaron pulled the car up near the front of the house his brother had indicated and rolled down the window once more, this time a shot-gun barrel found its way out into space along with the billow of cigarette smoke.

Andre paused, at least three building tops away from the group. He would have stayed if he wasn't so intimidated by the growing masses that seemed to follow them. Coulda' shoulda' woulda'. Shrugging, he inched toward the edge of a rooftop to look at the slanted, shingled step-down ledge. Below it --- silence. Nothing. So unusual was the sight of nothing wanting to eat him or someone pointing a gun at him, that he was honestly surprised. With a final glance back to the group, he crinkled his face at the sight of an extended belly belonging to a woman he hadn't noticed before. He definitely wasn't going back now.

The last thing he needed to see was her stomach exploding as hands delved into it and pulled out the organs and infant inside to have their version of human veal. Fuck that, no fucking way. Even if she somehow prospered she'd likely get someone else killed. He felt bad and his gentlemanly side silently scolded him, but over the edge of the building he went to roll onto the shingles.

His body stopped just short of the ledge, his hardened hands grabbing at the gutter as he dropped his head to take a look around. "Coast is clear." He sat and dangled his legs over the edge, grazing the faint stubble along his cheeks briefly before hopping down. The ramifications of the high leap shocked his muscles, causing him to cramp for a second. All 6'4" of him bent in different directions to alleviate the impact pains. He began jogging despite the aches until he reached just the fringe of the town, bordered with quaint homes.

Many of them were boarded up and had omens scrawled all over them in spray paint such as, "DEAD INSIDE," or "STAY OUT," or Dre's personal favorite, "GOD'S WRATH IS UPON US." He stifled a soft laugh as he made the best use of the lingering light in the sky to kick open a door that was deadbolted but not boarded or graffitied. Inside, books, lamps and various belongings were strewn about here and there. He scored the entire home, reaching the last bedroom on the second floor where the shape of a person rested under linens.

It did not move or stir. Sometimes, as Andre had learned, the undead went into an odd state of unconsciousness until they heard something. He wasn't sure why this was, but it was fucking terrifying being that they basically slept and you wouldn't know where they were sometimes or if they were actually done or not --- like, actually dead. "Fuck," he whispered as he yanked away the white sheet. A horrible smell erupted from the cover as the stench of canker hit his senses with brutality. "Damn!" He said loudly, looking over the corpse who had ostensibly opted out for whatever reason, a Colt .45 in his hand and an exit wound in his head.

Besides sharing the home with its rotting home owner, everything else was actually great. It was a gold mine in the current conditions, the shelves were stocked with canned goods. Despite the Oreos in the pantry being expired, Andre still ate them like a stoner with the munchies. When his stomach was full, he lit two small candles and secured the home where he could rest for the night and maybe even consider the place a residence for as long as it would hold up. But, that would all be determined in the morning when he had the right amount of rest.

Suddenly around her, the number of humans grew, as did the number of zombies. They could smell their flesh across town. Shooting several more, Benny watched as one boy hopped off of the roof and took and exit strategy around from where the hordes of animated corpses ambled down the street. "He's got the right idea." she mumbled to herself, carefully rushing herself to the other side of the building.

However once she hit the ground with a soft thud, nearly stumbling, Benny had no sight on the boy who hopped the roof. Hearing the all to familiar groans and hissing of the zombies behind her, she didn't think much before setting off in a full sprint back to where her four wheeler was parked. In an attempt to avoid wasting bullets, when coming across a member of the endear, Benny would violently use the butt of her weapon to revere them into submission. Finally rounding back to the gas station, she was stunned to see a horde of zombies walking just yards from where she was parked. The truck that had previously been parked there had been moved, verifying that it did belong to a live person.

Carefully she played with the keys she had attached to the wrist band, stretching the elastic so she held the keys in her hand, poised to start the ignition and take off. Counting to three, Benny charged full sprint, only being noticed by three zombies as she started her four wheeler. One managed to get close enough to cause panic, but she released a bullet into its skull, causing it to crumble into a pile of cursed flesh. Speeding off, once more she used the butt of her gun to fend off the undead.

Just like that, she let the only humans she had seen so far fend off the remaining undead on their own. Her four wheeler pushed forward, as sleep began to try and pull her lids low. Any moment now she would need sleep.

Finally reaching where rows of homes offered solace of a secure temporary area, Benny parked her four wheeler in a discreet hiding place. She had ran into scavengers before- the type to rob a fellow human blind to help themselves get by. Filling her backpack with supplies she'd need for the night, Benny brought along her hunting rifle and ammo. Struggling to stay alert, Benny quickly padded across the yards, finally spotting a house that seemed accessible. Meaning to open the door, she was met with a door that wouldn't budge, although it seemed that it was due to a barricade.

Looking through the window, Benny caught a glimpse of a figure, shocked to recognize the boy who jumped off the roof earlier. On one hand she wanted to get his attention so he could let her in, but on the other it seemed like he enjoyed working on his own. Either was she wasn't able to make the decision. A rustling behind her made her spin around, coming face to face with yet another screamer. Watching its face twist into a scream, Benny didn't give the zombie a chance before she pulled the trigger, making the Zombie siren collapse before her- limp.



Using the hand gun, Levy was able to take out three zombies with five shots. However she hadn't brought along the ammo and she didn't want to waste all her bullets so soon. As others did the same and took leverage on the roofs, Levy hopped down a fire escape to land feet first in a patch of dirt.

Immediately she set off running in the direction of the truck she had seen parked just up the street. If her vision served right, she had seen a sledge hammer in the bed of the pick up. There was a crawler dragging itself across the pavement, Levy wasted another bullet right in the back of the neck as she passed the decaying corpse. There were some slow walkers down the way, giving her enough time to book it to the truck and retrieve the sledgehammer. Using it to bust the back window of the pick up, Levy reached her upper half of her body into the front cabin of the truck. She would look back over her shoulder every few seconds, assuring there wasn't something trying to eat her as she scoured for supplies. There was some gauze in the glove compartment and a small Swedish knife. Stuffing one into either shoe, Levy reassumed a position on top of the truck. As zombies neared her, smelling her flesh, their hands reached out hungrily- trying to make her their meal.

She swung at their skulls, occasionally smashing their greedy hands. Panicked, she saw the number had increased, now a swarm coming at her from two directions. Once she had cleared around the truck, given a window of opportunity Levy hopped out from the truck, booking it down the street. As a zombie crossed her path, as if she was Thor himself, Levy would swing her newfound sledgehammer before they even had a chance. Rounding a corner, a crawler hissed just where she planned to land her foot, making Levy jump with surprise, throwing the sledgehammer down to smash the skull of the zombie into the ground, making her hop over the zombie in the momentum.

This street was more clear, save for about seven amblers and a girl who was fighting them all on their own. Keeping her pace, Levy withdrew her Machete as she approached the line of the undead. "Get low!""She shouted, letting the other girl aware of her presence as she swung after the zombies. Decapitating one, roundhouse kicking the other so he stumbled back, Levy then used the Machete to sever the spine. Trying to distract one more to herself, she hoped the girl could evade the rest of the undead while Levy handled these.

Throughout the night, the cottage Andre took refuge in would rasp under the harsh gale. The temperature rises came on way before the plague but he suspected the drastic alteration in seasons in Chesapeake was involved with the outbreak itself. It was all too considerably coincidental not to be amalgamated somehow. Living by the shore no longer had its perfect string of ideal seasons. The days were hot as hell and the nights were bitter, akin to an unmerciful dessert. Conditions in the atmosphere alone sometimes made survival an illusory goal.

More than once he stirred, the first time being only minutes after he closed his eyes. Checking his GShock for the time, he yawned. Was it already that late? Time really gets away when you're running for your life. His life had become a preventative mixture of psychosis, concentration, and thinking on his feet. Speaking of feet, he slept with his shoes on in the case that something caused him to run for it. He knew he wasn't playing it safe simply covering windows and barricading the doors, but sometimes that was all that could be done. Respite was still vital in his life along with staying hydrated. Subtracting those from the equation of life and what hope was left of it made him sluggish, cranky and vacuous. Nobody who was remotely interested in pulling through the end of the world could afford to be any of the above.

Shots fired in the distance. Andre crawled to one of the windows, opening it only a quarter of an inch to peek out. The sight was familiar; reanimated dead drudging through yards in scattered orientation with bones popping through their skin and meat hanging from their teeth. A few crawlers ceased to move, letting their succinct hibernation take them perhaps as a consequence of severe starvation.

He ran a hand over his head as he let the curtain fall back into place, allowing the illusion of being in a safe location to calm him. He could openly admit that the majority of the time he was terrified, he just hardly showed it. There were few expressions aside from irritation and cruel humor that Andre allowed to be seen on his behalf. Then again, it didn't really matter half the time because nobody would be around to witness these indications that actually had a brain with the capacity of comprehension.

A snarl sounded disturbingly close to his window and something whispered in the air. His adrenaline shot into his brain. Come on man, not now. Please. He silently pleaded as he scrunched up his face, his fingers tracing the seam of the valance again. "Damn, maaaaaaan," he whined, forcing himself, daring to look out again. What he saw startled him half to death; inches from his window was a young girl probably in her teens, straining her trigger finger to silence the undead alarm that would have gone off had she given the ghoul maybe one more second, if that. It dropped in a heap, its afterlife journey concluded on the side yard. He would have just turned away and ignored it, but his mellow hazel eyes met hers. He wanted to curse aloud. Now he was impelled to let the stranger in.

He wasn't raised to neglect or leave a distressed woman on her own. And after leaping from rooftop to rooftop, making great bounds away from a pregnant woman in danger, well he probably wasn't too karmically sound. "Shiiiiit," he moaned, shutting the curtain to think for a moment.

Snagging it open quickly, he pointed his finger to indicate for her to go round back where he would let her in. He grabbed his knife in the event that she wasn't some damsel in distress. With great effort he slid a book case and two end tables from the back door, opening it slightly, only enough for her thin frame to fit through. When she squeezed in, he looked over her. Good lord, he thought to himself, pretty little thing. But his face was unwelcoming with no expression as he shut the door, holding the knife behind his back.

He said nothing for a while as he pushed and shoved his blockades against the rear entrance again. A heavy exhale escaped his mouth as he turned to face her, looking at the gun still in her hand. If she wasn't in some sort of peril, if she was a looter --- he didn't stand a chance. Suddenly he was kicking himself for not taking the gun out of the corpse's hand upstairs in exchange for his dull utility knife. But it just seemed so wrong and sick to pry away rigid, expired fingers from a weapon. He was sure others did it but the thought skeeved him out. Looking to the face of his watch then up at her again, he breathed, "Did any of them see you come in?"

Movement from the window beside her caught her attention, making her eyes snap to the pane, meeting a pair of hazel eyes momentarily. Just as quickly as she saw him, he was gone, dropping the curtain as if to hide himself. Her earlier suspicions assumed, him preferring to be on his own, she lowered the barrel of her Ruger. Just as she turned to try and break into a neighboring home, he remerged in the window.

Gesturing that she circle to the back of the house, Benny nodded in understanding, turning her back to the male. Although it might've been a fatal decision, to trust this person with her life while camping out in the same home, Benny didn't have many other options. Besides, if the boy wanted to he had plenty other people to loot off of. Yet none of them had a fine piece of a deer hunting rifle, a four wheeler and, no one else having their back.

Still, Benny decided to trust her instincts that he wouldn't leave her hanging, after all she noticed as she slipped into the house that all he had no weapon that she could see of. She watched as his eyes scanned over her, pausing over the metal piece she clung to like her life depended on it. He didn't seem to happy about helping her out, although Benny understood it was a hassle taking others under your wing.

As he once again rearranged the worn furniture in front of the doors, Benny wiped her brow, dirt and sweat smearing from her forehead to her fore arm. Carefully she peeked around the house, making sure there were no other beings - zombie and human alike, setting up a trap for her. Hearing him finally relax, Benny spun back around, casually gripping her weapon until she saw his hands on it once more.

Paranoia set in, making Benny grip the gun tighter, watching him carefully. It was then she realized neither of of them had said anything yet. "Did any of them see you come in?" his voice cut through the silence, making Benny realize how long it had been since she last heard someone's voice. Thinking back even further, for months all she heard were the girlish high pitched voices of herself and Leah. At first he was barely audible- Benny's ears were so trained to keep out for high pitches it seemed, but once she registered his words she nodded.

Carefully she squinted in the darkness in the hall to the left of her, then back at the man who had taken her under his wing. He didn't look much older than her, although the dim lighting didn't give her the best view of him. Figuring he was probably in the same mindset as her, fearing she would take all he had and leave him for dead, Benny let herself lower the weapon. "The screamer was the only one, I think." she said, crossing one arm over herself in an attempt to make herself seem less threatening.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence between them, just standing across the room from each other in a sort of stand off. "Thanks...for letting me in and all." she blurted as the words popped into her mind, "I'm Benny." she offered, not bothering with a hand shake. Those seemed like a custom for a more civil time. A hand shake almost seemed like a joke to Benny, as she thought of it in that moment.

(Double post)

The young woman before Andre uncomfortably shifted to almost shield herself with one of her own frail arms yet still gripped her weapon. Andre wondered what she must have been thinking at that moment but, curiosity often killed the cat. Slowly but surely the gun slackened in her grip, to which Andre slid a hand into his back pocket. It wasn't until this moment that he realized his shirt was unbuttoned and hanging open to expose not only his twitching, prominent muscles in his abdomen, but half of his boxers too.

He buttoned the tremendously aged jean shirt, once modern and even a little sophisticated paired with fresh khakis and Jordans. But the way he looked now --- well, it wasn't even close to sophisticated or modern. His infrared Airmax 90's were so worn they hardly looked any color except that of dirt. Truthfully he had nothing to be embarrassed of but since she was the opposite sex he felt himself fighting back some discomfiture.

"The screamer was the only one, I think."
You think? You think? Do you not look in every angle possible anymore? He wanted to shake her, but instead he stayed quiet still and nodded vaguely, his head barely bobbing. Lighting another candle, he cast a little more light over the messy, scrambled dining room that had become his camp. A large, fleece blanket was laid out over the muddle along with a fluffy pillow he found upstairs in a spare room. Surely the thing was too bulky to travel with, but he'd enjoy the luxury while it lasted. The girl breathed a sentiment of gratitude, but it had been so long since anyone thanked him for anything that he didn't quite know what to say.

Benny. That's cute, I like that. A smirk threatened to tug at his lips as he looked over her faded, duotoned hair. Awkwardly enough he still remained uncomfortably in place and silent. Finally he padded past her and sat on the floor, propping himself up against the wall and trying to force his hazel eyes not to droop with weariness.

"Dre." He said it subconsciously before he could register it, his wrists twitching a little as if he wanted to extend his hand. "Andre. My name is Andre." His voice was deep and soft, careful not to draw attention or disturb anything that may be lurking in close proximity. He brought a hand to his face, rubbing the hardened palm up and down against his supple caramel skin. No 'you're welcome' came, just more extended silence.

"I guess we should both get sleep so we don't wander off tomorrow and be too damn dumb from exhaustion --- get ourselves killed." Then he realized that there wasn't really many spaces in which she could sleep. The spare room on the floor above was wrecked with scattered bed items that were of little use. In the master bedroom was the deceased and particularly fetid owner of the house. He adjusted his pillow, pointing to the outer edge of his comforter, "You can sleep there if you don't want to rest on hardwood and wake up all sorts of fucked up and sore."

"Goodnight... Benny." He turned his back to her so that she couldn't see the subtle smirk on his lips as he spoke her name and closed his eyes.

Benny could think back to a time that she could walk into so much as a store, and walk out with a new friend. She seemed to have the gift of gab, a sweet enough smile to make others comfortable with her. However, standing in the room with the first human she's seen in roughly two months - first male in she didn't even know how long - Benny couldn't fathom anything to say.

As he shifted, his shirt shifted from his abdomen, Benny's eyes eyeing his torso before she could control himself. Luckily his attention had been in buttoning his shirt, in the dim light Benny could see his fore arms were decorated in black ink. As he got closer to the candlelight, illuminating yet another wax flash light, Benny finally got a good look at his face. He looked like the type she would see in a fraternity around the corner from where she stayed in the sorority houses.

She couldn't help but to let her mind wander, how strange it was that if everything was normal again, Benny would've already made some flirty comment or invaded his personal space. An look of amusement came as quick as it when she told him her name, he increasingly seemed like the type to veil his emotions. Finally, he broke the silence again by saying his name was Dre...which was short for Andre.

Benny considered mentioning her name was Benita- but that wasn't much better than Benny. Andre was a nice name, it had a way of rolling off the tongue. She repeated his name to herself, although he probably heard her.

Seeing Andre begin to get comfortable, Benny let herself set down her rifle carefully. She planned on keeping it close in her sleep, that much was sure. However there was the problem of where to sleep. As if reading her mind, Andre mentioned sleep. Suddenly she felt acutely aware of a throbbing head ache. Surprisingly, Andre offered a spot on his makeshift bed, making Benny stumble with her words at first. "T-That'd be nice." wishing she could face palm herself, Benny set down her back pack to rummage through.

Exhaustion would soon get the best of her, but Benny knew she needed the Angels watching over her tonight. Lacking discretion, Benny wrapped her rosary around her right hand, murmuring 'Hail Mary' and 'our Father' while she contained to pull out a blanket she used to cover her legs while she slept. Most of the time Benny slept sitting up, in a locked room, with a gun in her hand.

It felt strange, settling just inches away from Andre, using her backpack as a pillow. "Goodnight....Benny." she heard him say as he turned his back to her. Doing the same, Benny reached out her hand, resting it on her Ruger. "Goodnight, Dre Andre." already sleep was thick in her voice. After that they were silent, only the sound of each others breath filling the room.

Oddly comforted by the sign of human life nearby, Benny found herself falling asleep listening to the soft inhale/exhale of the male just within arms reach of her. The candle light offered somewhat peace of mind as she struggled to keep her eyes open, as if at last minute before she would slip into slumber a member of the undead would hop from the shadows. Praying this wasn't the case, slowly but surely she drifted into the blissful state of sleep. It had been a while since she had someone else to depend on to keep an ear out for trouble. As if knowing this, her body pulled her into the deepest sleep Benny had experienced in months. Unaware of her motions, once she reached the second REM cycle of sleep, her hand drew away from the gun, wrapping her arms around herself to warm herself. Searching for warmth, the slight female's human instincts betrayed her, making her turn to the man who she still was unsure she could trust. She snuggled in against him, blissfully unaware of how uncomfortable of a situation she was putting herself in. Her dreams ruled her mind, soft noises slipping past her slightly parted lips when she would move. But she stayed where she was, against Andre, enjoying the best sleep she'd had for months.



The girl that had been cornered seem to pick up quickly enough, fighting back the ones Levy hadn't gotten to. Although she was focused on the task on hand, watching the girl out of the corner of her eye. 'Nice' she thought to herself as she swung at the arm of a zombie that managed to catch her off guard just enough to grab ahold of one of her dreads that strayed from their ties.

A hand gripped her wrist, something Levy would usually take as a moment to panic, but the delicate fingers that wrapped around her wrist were warm, the touch from another human was so comforting to Levy she didn't even flinch as the girl tugged her arm and said, "lets go." guiding her toward a row of houses.

She thought back to her supplies, tucked away in the house she had slept in earlier. Being tugged into a house, Levy felt relieved that the girl seemed to be compassionate enough to repay Levy the favor of saving her life in giving Levy temporary shelter. As she complimented Levy's swing, the dread head laughed lightly, "Thanks, it's easy to pick up on." She said, shrugging her shoulders slightly. The girl began to strip before her, throwing aside her bloodied clothes. It would be lying to saw she didn't peek, human curiosity made that impossible, but mostly she kept her eyes averted, looking at the pictures that lines the wall. There were pictures of their family, showing a mother and father and two girls. Twins- perhaps fraternal. They looked too close in age and similar in certain ways to not be, Levy deduced, then looking back to the girl who addressed herself as Adelaide, then Addi. "I hope you don't mind if I call you Adelaide, it's nice. Mine's Levy, with a 'y'..." She let her sentance hang, as if she wasn't sure why she had added that last tid bit. It was a usual way she would introduce herself back when things were normal, but now the quirky greeting seemed outdated.

Then verifying Levy's previous guess that Adelaide was offering her home as temporary shelter, the girl continued to say so, rummaging through her bag and withdrawing a decent sized fish. "Fish is great!" She enthused, nodding her head with a slight smirk. The girl moved into the kitchen, then disappearing for a moment to return speaking into a Walkie talkie. From what Levy could pick up it seemed like it was her sister, the twin from the picture she assumed.

Levy walked into the kitchen once the girl returned, looking over what seemed like a very nice home to raise your children in. How sad now they had to defend zombies from the same home. "You're home is really cute, thanks for lending me shelter." Again she thought of her supplies, "I left my things at this house, when I get to it tomorrow I'm probably going to hunting. Would you be interested in going with?" She asked, eyeing the girl. She seemed young, she was very pretty and friendly. Probably had a fun time in high school. In a way she reminded Levy of herself at that age. Instinctually, already Levy wanted to extend her help to the girl.

From looking over her the few times he dared to steal glances, Andre was sure the girl was of some Puerto Rican or Mexican descent. She had light, fawn skin that he was familiarized with masterly. Light skinned girls and mixed girls tended to be his favored type and it was nostalgic to see his ideal sort of girl. Of course now he found her at the world's end, and instead of holding his hand she was holding a rifle and weighing whether or not she would have to kill him at some point. Ironic.

Before the leagues of the living dead overtook Chesapeake, Andre was a fuckaround type of guy. He treated girls right, but his problem was taking on too many at once which countermanded all of his gentlemanly etiquette. If he wasn't out screwing around with a female, he was playing baseball or at the gym. In the position of the existing world, he was glad he never had an official girlfriend.

Benny. He closed his eyes and absentmindedly flexed his fingers beneath his pillow. Now that he thought of it, it was homogenous to 'Jenny' which was a Puerto Rican girl he was seeing for a short while. His estimate about Benny's origin was probably dead on.

"Hail Mary, full of grace.
Our Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb,
Jesus.
Holy Mary, Mother of God,
pray for us sinners,
now and at the hour of our death.
Amen."

He smirked with his back to her as he listened to her fully recite the traditional edition. Then she continued into another prayer. It was almost refreshing to Dre, to know that someone in the world kept faith. In the same regard it was foolish. Again he thought back to all of the religious premonitions sloppily composed on houses, signs and even sidewalks. Haha, yeah, God's wrath is upon us, he thought to himself. But they were his favorite to read, they offered a good laugh as he wondered what type of fear the dramatist was feeling while scrawling their warnings in bright colored paints and markers. '…Now and at the hour of our death' hung in Dre's mind damply.

'Dre Andre', he stifled a soft sleepy laugh at the girl behind him. Soon sleep took him and crashed over him like tidal waves. Inside of dormancy, there was a world of blank nullity. He knew nothing, feared nothing. He just slept. It was in this that he found ease otherwise unsalvageable in consciousness.

How long had he been asleep? Hours? When the soft weight of another human being against him alerted his mind, his eyes drooped with reluctance upon opening. Vague, night-veiled morning light peeped through the material of the curtains. He moved a little to glance over his shoulder at the girl he had taken in a few hours earlier. Benny. Gentle, girly exhales escaped her moderately parted soft lips. Then he looked at his GShock which read: 4:49AM. He could still stand to sleep a few hours and the groans of the dead outside were simply not there. Many of them had either found meals elsewhere or lied quiescent.

As carefully as he could manage, he pivoted his body to lay on his opposite side in a daring attempt to spoon the petite young woman beside him. He figured he wouldn't get this opportunity again in a long time let alone welcome it, and henceforth relished in the satisfaction of being so close to his 'type' as he wrapped his arms around her.

Her dreams shifted to an unreal world. One with white picket fences and kids who played in the front yard. The streets were empty, not a single car in site, just smooth asphalt leading to an unknown fog. Leah stood next to her, and she kept trying to talk to Benny, but her words were unheard. Benny kept trying to tell Leah she couldn't hear her, but the girl would just laugh grimly and shove Benny back.

With each shove Benny would stumble closer and closer to the fog, yelling at Leah to stop before she fell into the fog, but she just continued to laugh and shove. Despite the instilled fear of the fog, Benny wasn't panicking in her dream, instead just laughing along as her cross over into the fog was comical. Once they reached the fog, Leah gave the last shove, pushing Benny into what seemed like another realm. Benny at last minute grabbed Leah's arm, pulling Leah with her to descent into the fog. Their arms enclosed around each other, as if they expected to keep the other safe- but only to keep falling. It seemed like they fell for miles, Benny only hearing her own screams. Finally a ground rushed toward them, Benny looked to her companion one last time. Leah smiled briefly at Benny before letting Benny hear her her for the first time, her mouth wretched back into a screech that could only resemble one of the horrible demons Benny faced in real life now, making Benny fight out her clutch.

Between falling to the ground and in the clutches of Leah Benny felt herself give up, accept her death and give up. Limp in Leah's clawing arms she almost felt at peace knowing that it was all going to be over.



Her subconscious awoke, but her eyes stayed close, fuzzy memories from her dream fading as she regained consciousness. Still in a groggy state of half sleep, Benny tried to fall back into sleep. How long had it been since she had fallen asleep? It felt like forever, her body felt refreshed in a way it hadn't for months. Arms wrapped around her, comfortingly, and in a hazy state of sleep Benny let herself remain comfortable. The last time she had a night of sleep like this, it was in the arms of...."Leah" she breathed the word like a caress, snuggling into the chest of Andre, comforted by his closeness.

Then, as if a light bulb, she registered the arms around her were not the thin, soft limbs of a girl about her own stature. The body that she had cuddled so close to in her slumber dwarfed her own, and all memory of how she ended the night clear from her mind, immediately snapping Benny from her drowsiness.

Jumping from his arms, she pushed herself upright, scrambling across the ground as she fumbled for her gun. Ending up a few feet away, gripping her Ruger, leaning against the wall, Benny looked at Andre for the first time that morning - the memories of last night flashing like lightening.

Color flushed to her face, as she leaned her head back to gently hit the wall. Surely she seemed crazy to the boy, immediately scrambling for her gun when she woke up in his arms. She let her rifle fall in her lap, running her hands through her mane, the locks had fallen from the bun while she slept, her grown out blonde waves falling just past her shoulder.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she bent her knees, resting her elbows on them to bury her face into her hands. Wiping the sleep and shame from her eyes, Benny cleared her throat before looking back at Andre who she had woken. "Sorry, woke up forgetting where I was." She said, as if she couldn't believe her own overreaction, shaking her head before laughing at herself. She put her rifle back down, "I haven't been around another human for a while." She admitted, rubbing her arm.

Andre Rollins

"Leah," the breath that spoke the words woke him from his drowsy state. "Leah?" He asked, raising an arm to rub his eye. In the time he took just to do that, the girl he had sheltered with his body was clambering for the other side of the room. "Alright, alright, damn," he muttered as she grabbed the gun.

He hoisted himself up, looking towards the window. It was hardly light out yet and this was the second time he woke up. So much for that marvelous sleep he was anticipating. A quiet yet dramatic sigh escaped his mouth, dry and thirsty. A large hand scooped up a bottle of water from beneath his pillow as he indulgently sucked up the liquid. He paid no mind to the girl as she screwed around with her belongings off to the side and gathered her thoughts.

Emotional heaviness had shown on her face shortly before she buried the expression into her cradling fingers. "Don't be sorry, it's whatever." He said quietly, feeling awkward but not expressing it in the least. He yawned and stood up to adjust his pants and shirt, figuring there was no use attempting to sleep. She wasn't going to crawl back into his arms and he wasn't about to ask her to. "I get it, it's weird." he admitted and rolled up his blanket.

He looked at her once or twice to take in her beauty and then shoved the fleece into his book bag. Without a word or explanation, he went upstairs to the master bedroom. He wrinkled his nose as he inched closer to the former resident, peeling his creaky, deceased fingers from the weapon he used to end it all.

When Andre returned to the first floor, he had a gun in his back pocket. But he knew how odd and potentially threatening it would look, and quickly explained, "There's a dead guy upstairs. Nah, not like --- functioning. He killed himself." He dangled the S&W revolver from his hand loosely to show her then tucked it back into his pants, "I don't even know how to shoot one of these but I figure it couldn't hurt me to have a gun when all I been had was some dull ass knife."

Drowsiness suited Andres, Benny noted. For once the guarded expression that he kept was wiped clean, as if the vulnerability of sleeping left him an open book. It only lasted for a moment before he became alert enough to regain his emotionless expression he had held the night before. He drank some water he had tucked under his pillow, reminding Benny of the water she had stashed in her bag. She remained where she was, gathering her thoughts before she decided to get up and start the day.

The early morning rays peeked through the windows, illuminating the room. Leaning against the wall behind her, she sneaked glances at Andre, letting herself really look him over. Her fingers ran over the rosary that she still had wrapped around her arm from her prayers the night before. She brought them to her lips, as if she were telling them a secret, trying to hold herself back from the little devil talking on her shoulder.

As Leah would put it, the caramel skinned young man was "Fooiiiiiiiineeee". He reminded her of a boy named Damion, a man who had lucked out when herself and Leah were incredibly drunk. As he mumbled out that she shouldn't be sorry, standing to his feet and adjusting his clothes, she heard the devil on her should talking a little bit louder. He was at least a foot taller than Benny, something she hadn't remembered from last night. "I get it, it's weird." he said as he rolled up his blanket.

She leaned her head into her right hand, elbow poised on her knee, shaking her head slowly. As he stuffed the blanket into his bag she spoke, "Maybe," she paused, and just as she meant to continue he turned on his heel and disappeared around the corner, wilting Benny rolled her eyes, "But I slept great." She said to herself, almost sarcastically. She reached for her back pack, grabbing her water bottle with one hand and a semi clean rag with another. Hopping to her feet, Benny opened the water and drank the tepid water as she approached the window, peeking out to check if anything was out of place.

She poured a little bit of water onto the rag, then bringing the bottle back to her lips. Benny had once been a hygiene snob, now degraded to baths in the river on occasions and freshening up with a clean rag and water when she got the chance. On the chance Andre would walk in on her in a compromising position, she walked into a hall on her left, leading into the kitchen. Wiping the grime from her face first, Benny ran her eyes over the pictures pinned to the refrigerator. There were poorly colored in sheets torn from a coloring book, toothy smiles of sons, nieces, daughters, cousins. It almost saddened her, but she ignored dwelling on the fact that these young children were most likely dead.

Returning to her supplies, put away her water bottle and withdrawing a soft, blue racer back tank top from her bag. She set it down, stripping out of her shirt so she stood in her leggings and sports bra, using her soiled shirt to wipe down her arms and torso once more. Andre returned as she was neatly putting the shirt at the bottom of the bag, and her blanket on top of it.

Before she even registered the gun, he explained it's origin. Nodding, Benny slipped into the tank that was just a little too big on the girl, listening to Andre as he spoke. "Yea, guns are great." She said grimly, searching for her hair tie on the floor. Once she retrieved it, Benny gathered all her locks, once again piling it on top of her head and tying it into a secure bun. The usual stray hairs fell around her temples at the nape, baby curls forming.

Retying her shoes, Benny thought about what to do today. Did Andre plan on going on his own again? Did she plan on going on her own? She found herself wanting to stay around Andre, looking to him as she brought herself upright. "Are you a camper or a roamer?" Some anti-apocalyptic slang for you, some one who had a destination in mind Benny typed as a roamer, Camper's included those who just lived to survive and hop camp to camp. She pulled on her back pack, biting her lip as a nervous habit.



The girl redirected them into the living room, saying they had to cook the fish there. Seeing the fire place upon entry, she nodded, understanding what the girl meant. As Adelaide went on to explain that herself and her sister camped there, Levy got comfortable on one of the plushy couches. "It's a sweet little spot. It's great you guys have been able to stay here." She thought to her own journey- constantly moving. It probably felt nice to settle down and set roots in this world.

Again, Adelaide seemed to have read Levy's mind, offering Levy to crash at the house indefinitely. Her mind tumbled over the choice, how nice it was to see another human again. It seemed like there were a few in this area. Was it some sort of village, resorting back to more barbaric times? Finally Levy nodded, smiling briefly, "Thanks, that'd be nice, if only for a little bit." She didn't want to overstay her welcome.

As if grabbing her own clothes spurred the question, Adelaide left the fish cooking as she disappeared into the kitchen once more, asking if Levy needed clothes. They seemed about the same size, except Levy's narrow hips resembled one of a twelve year old boy. She looked down to her own clothes, which she had been in for two solid days, dirtied and blood spattered. "Clothes would be nice." She said, amused.

When Adelaide returned to hand her a plate, a low rumble sounding from her stomach. She used her fingers, digging into the soft flesh of the fish. Immediately her tummy was calmed, "Perfect." She complimented Adelaide with a wink and a smile. Once again the girl had disappeared to fetch clothes for Levy, and when she returned Levy had already gone to the kitchen and rinsed off her plate. "Thank you." She said with a smile, accepting the clothes and changing where she stood. Unlike Adelaide who still had the soft curves of a female, Levy didn't mind changing in front of others because there wasn't much to look at. She had lost at least 20 pounds, which is a lot when you are already small. Her sinewy arms were tanned, her prominent muscles twitching as she pulled on her clothes.

Throwing her clothes in the corner of the room, she settled back onto the couch. It would most likely be where she slept. mmm, sleep she thought to herself, resting her head on the arm of the couch. "It's about that time, for me at least." She said, yawning as she stretched her arms over her head. "Daybreak we should move out." She suggested, snuggling into the throw pillow as she drifted into the realm of sleep.

Upon his return, Benny had looked a little more cleaned up. It reminded him that he didn't want to be indecent, especially in front of her. Sitting again, Andre shuffled through his book bag until he pulled out a rag. "'Scuse me," he slightly grinned, a soft but gruff chuckle escaping his lips. Leaning up as he took off his shirt, he poured some water onto the scrap of cloth and brought it down along his toned abdomen and around his back, then rested the damp material over one of his shoulders. As he occasionally glanced at her, he had to wonder how dangerous she could really be.

Taking up unnecessary room in his bag was a pint-sized bottle of Giorgio Armani cologne. He used a little every day, mostly to steer his sense of smell from causing him to vomit when he encountered the rotting fetor that cloaked the town. He sprayed himself briefly then tossed the rag into the bag, slid his shirt back on, buttoning it up before getting to his feet and hoisting his backpack on.

Slowly light was coming into the sky, the daybreak taking its sweet time awakening from its slumber and penetrating the material of curtains. "Yeah, guns are great." Her formidable tone made him laugh at her a little while he bent down to cuff his jeans so they wouldn't drag or get caught on anything. Rubbing his head, he grabbed the snapback that was resting on the window sill.

He dusted it off, hardly making a dent in the grime that caked the once sharp apparel. Then he put it on, "Do I camp," he looked down a little and tugged at the sleeves of his shirt to adjust them to the perfect length, "or do I roam?" Again he smiled, his lips parting to show straight teeth. "I got lucky with this house. I usually keep moving. Heard that it's safer down in Moyock, that there's more shelters. It's all the way in North Carolina but I'ma try to find a whip to get there. At least part of the way. I don't like being alone but I don't like to be around stupid asses either."

Padding into the kitchen, he opened up the cabinets to scour whatever remained that was edible or beneficial to him. When his hazel eyes scanned some canned green beans and beets, he shoved them into his bag without even looking at the expiration date. A few stray containers of pasta, tomatoes, and condensed milk remained. "I wasn't going to let you in," he laughed to himself and continued loudly so she could hear him, "But I thought, shit, she's fine. Maybe I'll get lucky."

To him it was obvious enough that he was joking, he only hoped it was mutual. Pulling the remaining items down and setting them on the counter he said, "Here's some food on the counter here for you to get you through a couple of days."

He sat at the kitchen table which was oddly still intact, utilizing a single candle and filtered, feeble light from the window to look at a map. With his fingers he drew invisible lines and paths, mumbling things to himself like, "Bet this highway is covered - maybe through these woods over here…" Sucking in a mouthful of air, he sighed and his lungs wheezed. He hadn't exhibited problems where his asthma was concerned but at intervals, usually when he just woke up, he struggled a little respire comfortably.