Penfold's Story

all the gunshots startled penfold he never really heard guns being in the RAF he was too busy flying the planes or repairing them he saw combat yes but only in the falkland islands and that was doing a fly by bombing. hard to hear gunshots in a noisy plane "oh hell" he said aloud as his carrage awoke with a startle and a sob at the leg, he gathered his bags and went over to the woman "come on lass, hup.......there we go" the woman was heavier than he expected but probably because he didnt have much adrenaline he ran out and swore as there were infected lumbering towards them he jogged a bit and then stood still, focusing....the woman began to cry out and tremble and squirm but he bonked her on the head with the butt of his rifle which helped keep her quiet. he resumed his focus... pouring his energy into his legs, the girl getting heavier by this. the moans of the undead as they started to run, this angered penfold, which got his blood pumping, pour all his anger into his legs, as if his legs held all the blood in the body...focus....and....GO! and with a shot penfold was sprinting at a breaknet speed in comparssion to his usual running all his anger coursing through him it was like he was forsaking his humanity for speed "faster, faster!!" he told himself pouring everything he had into his thighs they were beginning to hurt even now. he knew he wouldnt be able to stop or turn easily if his katana was out and he wasnt carrying everything he could "FASTER" he cried out to himself dust rising from his foot steps. his boots making loud thudding noises att his speed it was impossible to be quiet he began to veer to the sides so he could dodge the infected that were way ahead of him, knowing that if he elft it any longer he'd crash into them "COME ON! FASTER, MORE SPEED!" he shouted aloud the girl on his shoulder waking dozedly before screaming and cluthcing to him tightly he then saw the next building come up "uncle jacks" it read "this could be a problem" he told himself as he pounded on

the bar came ever cleaer and closer and he noticed a bush in the road near the bar "excellent" he thought to himself the infected were after him now aver all the noise he made and as that bush came closer he got the woman on his shoudlers attention "let go and prepare to roll your leg will probably hurt again but youll be alive....this is going to hurt" a wimper was his responce but it was too late he dropped the woman into the bush and ran straight into the window which didnt break as he crashed into it with a mighty "whamming" a muffled sound was heard after "ow....my face bone" his thighs were trembling his entire body shaking, his glasses bent and his face red after getting glassed to the face he turned around to look at the woman she was crying at the pain no doubt but then a hutner that seemed to be near pounced on her and he swore drawing his katana.... if anyone was in there they obviously heard him crash he would wait a few minutes for them to open the door and if now hed spear the window with his rifle and climb in, obviously there would be more than one room for him to hide in and sneak out of....alone now that was all he could do the normal infected got close and with katana in one hand and rifle in the other he began to fight for his life once more, going for the legs to grant him a breif reprive and chance to strike the head safely his ears still ringing from the crash his thights burning he couldnt hold his weapons still if his life depended on it...which it did but he made do "if someone is in there open the bloody door!! im not a fan of my current esteemed company and i dont really want to hug them as much as they want to hug me" knowing his luck there is no one in there but he had to try incase they thought he was an infected. the darkwindows made it impossible to tell but he began to focus again though such focus came slower and one by one the infected fell slowly they didnt die but the fell and near enough stopped moving "a few more seconds then ill break the window in" he told himself

Wesley frowned inwardly. He hated being shown up. He pulled out a crushed box of Marlboros and pulled one out of the pack. He walked over to behind the bar and reached all the way in the back. It was where Jack kept the good stuff. His hand reached a glass bottle. He pulled back his hand and saw that it was a decent sized scotch bottle. He grabbed a glass from up above and turned around to see that the Ice machine had no power. Looks like he was enjoying his scotch warm, "Why it's my lucky freaking day." He walked back over to the bar and sat down with the scotch bottle and the glass. He poured himself two finger widths. He sloshed it around and downed half of it on the first swig. He cringed and shook his head.

"Jack was a good man. Knew what it was like coming home and having everybody thinking your a heartless monster for protecting yourself. I respected him, I know what it is like to kill a family member. I've had to put down three of mine." He said slugging the rest of the scotch. He wanted to find God at the bottom of that damned bottle. He planned on doing it do. He refilled his cup and slugged it down again. He repeated this process until the scotch bottle was half way gone. Wesley knew what he was trying to do, get hammered. What else was there to do, besides curl up in a ball and die.

"So, your Jackie's niece. He's talked about you. All sorts of good things. About how you practically raised your sister all on your own. I must say, that is quite the accomplishment. " Wesley said. He was a little more than drunk right now. He hadn't gotten hammered since before the virus went airborne. He had been too busy trying to stay alive to get drunk. He needed this, it was the only luxury that he couldn't have everyday out there in this godforsaken hell hole. That's when he heard the banging on the door, "Great more guests. The bar is never this busy during a week day." He said getting up. He stumbled his way to the door and opened it. He saw a tall man in a trench coat holding a sword and a rifle. He shook his head at the sight and grabbed the man and tossed him inside. He picked up a near by beer bottle and chucked it. The resounding crash led the infected the other way. Now his attention was focused on the man on the ground.

Kaylie watched two male figures walk in and out of the bar and Bosco stands, a growl escapes his lips.

Kaylie's cover was blown... She hit Bosco on the head, not a full hit but a decent enough tap to get him to stop. She looks up in fear at the two males, wondering if they were even going to notice.

[[Again, writers block... :(]]

Aaron laughed quietly to himself. What the frig was up with this bar?

He watched another giant of a man run up to the door, a sword in his hand and a woman draped over his shoulder, like some viking raider or barbarian.

He grimaced as the man slammed against the glass of the window, face first.

"Too many movies. I wonder how many people Hollywood has gotten killed with stunts like that yet?" He said under his breath.

He fired again, his round ripping another walker's spine in half before it could launch himself at the big man. He wasn't surprised that the man didn't notice him; it was impossible to pick out something like one extra dead walker when you were fighting for your life at close quarters. He fired once more, his Mosin ringing out and sending another lead reaper into the midst of the now substantial horde milling around outside the bar.

He smiled to himself behind his gas-mask. With so much live bait running around, the zed-heads had hardly noticed him yet. The ones who had he had quickly dealt with. He began thinking about how to get the attention of the people inside, their escape plans may different if they knew they had a friend on the outside. Still, he wondered if they really wanted to risk running at all.

It was ultimately a gamble for them, either wait it out until the crowd dispersed, or run before more came.

What they didn't realize was that sooner or later, no more random survivors would come busting down their door. And then every single frigging rotten one of those ugly faces would be turned towards him.

He worked the bolt on his Mosin, wishing he could feel the cold steel in his hands. He always shot better when he could feel his Mosin Nagant with his bare hands, but he dared not take off his gloves in the city. Too risky, even for a moment. He was about to slam another stripper clip of rounds into the rifle when he heard feet pounding up the stairs behind him.

"Frig." He said aloud. He dropped the Mosin one the ground, no time to reload.

He quickly snatched his entrenching tool from its pouch on his hip, just in time for the walker to come bursting through the door. He didn't risk throwing it, he wasn't good enough at it yet. He waited until the sick thing charged forward; its sharp, broken fingernails aimed for his throat. He waited until the sick thing's hands were nearly clutching his gas-mask, then he shoved the sharpened edge of the short-handled shovel into the demon's face. He felt the thing's face break, and the jelly matter of what was once a brain began to pore out of the fissure in its cranium. He wrenched his entrenching shovel out and stepped far back, remove as much risk as possible of it touching him.

He ran to the door to the flight of steps and slammed it shut, then dragged a desk in front of it. Something he knew he should have done in the first place. He knew he couldn't touch the body to move it, so he simply left it, and went back to firing.

It was all too possible, he thought, that he was going to die here. Trying to help out people he didn't even know.

Funny.

"My name's Blair Lee Blake, I served two terms in the army I wont hurt you or anyone else here I just....I haven't seen another living person for weeks..." The pretty, dark-haired girl answered first, and, as Heather watched, a sad look crossed her face and her words trailed off. Heather guessed the last time she'd seen a living person had been a bad one, and instantly, she became curious. She was about to ask when the girl talked again. "I only want to stay for a night or two, and I can trade food if you will allow me to stay, I just need a place to sleep, I haven't slept in two days.." The girl raised her hands as a sign of surrender and Heather sighed. "If it makes you feel any better I wont take any of you alcohol?" She watched as Blair's face contorted with several emotions all at once and Heather looked at her with pity, knowing what she was going through.

She considered shooting the girl. What if she was lying? Heather looked in Blair's eyes and sighed. No one could fake the emotion in the older girl's eyes. Could she even shoot her if she was a threat? Killing the infected was one thing. Techinically, they had already died and cheated death. No one was allowed to cheat death like that. Killing a living, breathing person was another thing entirely and Heather doubted she could do it.

So, instead, she flipped her gun towards the other girl. "Alright, you're good." She gestured towards Blair, hardness returning to her eyes. "Now you. Talk." She twitched the gun and waited. When she did talk, she was a lot more chatty than the Blair.

"Name's Sparrow and it sure is nice to meet the two of you. I haven't had human contact in a few months now, it's nice to hear voices again, not the moaning noises the undead seem to make. Anyways, I heard a gunshot and ran here, it's the first time I've heard any survivors so it gives you hope, you know what I mean? There was a guy too, although I don't know if he's still alive or not. I did try to drag the crowds away from him." She laughed, a real laugh. Heather liked the sound of it. She hadn't heard someone laugh for real like that in ages. Even before the outbreak of the virus, Violet was really her only friend and she wasn't exactly the most happy person in the world. Not that Heather could blame her. She'd had to grow up fast. "Wasn't the best idea, espicially when you consider how crappy of a shot I am. My dad tried to teach me once but guess it never stuck too well. Although it seems like you're a nice shot, good job." Heather couldn't help it. She beamed. Compliments were hard to come by in her life. She was lucky if Violet thanked her for doing her chores.

"Thank you." She said, still smiling.

"I guess you're staying here with someone else?" She asked her with a smile. "And I expect a name from you too."

Heather nodded and shrugged, putting her gun away, having decided they were trustworthy and she, quite frankly, didn't have what it took to shoot them. If they were liars, Violet would take care of that. "I'm Heather. Heather Fairbanks." She winced at the sound of her own name. "Call me whatever you want, but please don't call me Heather. Bee, Nicole, Nikki, any of those work just fine." She smiled at the two of them, a smile she hadn't allowed herself to use in a long time. Sparrow was right. It was good to see another human again. She'd been fortunate enough to have a sister to travel with, but Violet wasn't exactly the warmest company sometimes. "And yeah, I'm with someone else. Come on, meet my sister." She'd had a terrible night so far, but these two were turning it around quickly. "Her name's Violet. You can call her Vi if you want. Oh. And I'm sorry ahead of time if she's a bit... rude. That's just how she is."

Pushing herself off the boxes, Heather lead the two girls around to the front of the bar where she found Violet, two guys, and a girl with her dog. She froze, honestly shocked. "What the hell is this?" She said, announcing herself. "This isn't God-dammed happy hour you know." She was on the verge of shouting. Outside the door, a bunch of infected were milling about. "Did you idiots bring those things here?!" She hissed, looking at Violet for an answer, blue eyes confused. Now, even if they wanted to, they couldn't leave the bar without some elaborate escape plan, which Violet would make her come up with. Why give all the big decision making over to an eleven year-old? Because she was smarter than her twenty year-old sister. Violet would never admit it in a million years, but, even though the older girl got all the guts and strength, Heather was the brains of their two-person operation.



Violet watched Wesley carefully from her spot on the bar, still a little on edge. She took note of the drink he liked, and the way he grumbled when he found the icebox wasn't working. Her eyes followed him as he sat at the bar in front of her, a little off to the side. Silently, she drank her vodka. She wasn't about to get drunk, she had a high alcohol tolerance, but that's all this man seemed to want to do and she wasn't about to stop him. So instead, she just watched him over the rim of her glass as he talked.

"Jack was a good man. Knew what it was like coming home and having everybody thinking your a heartless monster for protecting yourself. I respected him, I know what it is like to kill a family member. I've had to put down three of mine." Now she turned her eyes away. She was good at hiding her emotion on the outside, but people had always told her that her eyes were her tell. So she looked at the bottle of vodka next to her, drawing small circles with her finger on the counter as he continued. She would have spoken up, but she was afraid of what she would say if she did. How weak her voice would sound. "So, your Jackie's niece. He's talked about you. All sorts of good things. About how you practically raised your sister all on your own. I must say, that is quite the accomplishment."

It was obvious from his voice that he was a little more than simply drunk and she ran her fingers through her long blonde hair with a sigh. What was the harm in admitting a little to a guy who probably wouldn't even remember it, or care later? "Yeah. Heather. That's my sister. My dad was an asshole, he never took care of us. Instead, I pretty much had to take care of him. He had this thing for running away, ya know? Whenever things got tough we would just move. Anyway, Heather came along when I was about nine. My uncle, Jack-" Her voice cracked slightly on his name. "Did what he could. He moved with us a lot and gave me work here at the bar." She shrugged, taking a sip of her glass. "But I've talked enough."

Then a knock came at the door and Violet snapped her head up, watching drunk Wesley stumble over and pull the man inside. She rolled her eyes and grabbed her gun from the counter next to her, hopping down and crossing to Wesley. "Maybe you should go sit down." She said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You seem a little... Drunk."

"What the hell is this?" Heather's voice came from behind her and Violet followed her little sister's gaze to the door. Infected milling about outside on a street that had been empty just minutes ago. "This isn't God-dammed happy hour you know." Vi could see the rage in her little sister's eyes. "Did you idiots bring those things here?!"

Rolling her eyes, Violet pointed her gun on the newest guy that Wesley had pulled inside. "Chill Heather. Go sit down. Drink something. We'll get out of this. They're just survivors." She gestured at the two girls behind her. "I see you've made your own friends so don't get pissy. What? You can take them in, but I can't? Just sit the hell down. I've got it handled." She looked at the man who just came in and rolled her eyes, lowering her gun. What was the point in even threatening him?

At that second, a bark came from the shadows and then a "Shhhhh! and Violet realized they had even more company. Lovely. She ran her hands through her hair and groaned. She hated traveling with other people. She wasn't exactly the friendliest person in the world and all it took was another strong-willed person and there were bound to be fights. And looking at the lot of them, she knew it would be hard for her not to just shoot them when they pissed her off. "Alright whatever. Come out from your hiding place. We're all here, so why not form a group?" She shrugged as if it didn't bother her, when really, someone might as well have fed her to the zombies. Her offer hung in the air like a cloud.

inside the bar:

gunshots were heard then he was thrown to the floor was what he remembred after being outside again face first a muffled "ow...again" was heard before he rolled the woman he manage to pick up off his shoulder but the hunter got to her and she was dead he rubbed his face and shook all his stuff onto the floor, removed his glasses and then listened to all the talking, he head a gun clicking as it was pointed at him and his head darted up "who the hell is this?" "im a man with a pained face... but penfold is a much shorter name. and as for them outside who ever was shooting that frigging gun brought them this way. im there, sat on my arse eating a sandwhich then suddenly "BAM" gunshots, she..." he guestured to the corpse with a small shiver "had a broken leg so i carried her here when the people out there started climbing in to get to the noise but ofcourse carrying all this wasnt the best idea but i managed to out run them...had trouble stopping though " he shook his head with a small "woo" noise as if waking himself up "those hunters are quick i dont think shes made it, best roll her into a corner or throw her out....if she were to revive she wouldnt doo much with the broken leg so your safe either way" he didnt notice anyone else yet only the younger girls and the man who pulled him in but he looked around taking in everyones image "i dont mind forming a group.... better than them outside...i hope" he grinned at everyone before rubbing his face again "dont run into that glass....it really hurts"

shaking all the bags off had revealed him to be not as big as everyone thought, infact he was rather short standing at only 5"6 maybe 7 inches tall but penfold didnt get much farther than his hands and knees as his thighs shook and his legs gave way making penfold land again. putting his glasses on he rolled over and sat up and began massaging his legs before long he got tackled by yet another youngish girl "gaaah ahh who are you?" he flailed a bit his leg jerking which brought a slight spasm to them before long he heard "how are you bro?" he then seemed....perplexed staring at sparrow again before kissing her cheek and giving her a tight hug "how am i? ive got a broken face and im not in the highlands anymore but im with people now unless im much crazier than i was" he brushed back his hair and then sparrows before moving towards a wall dragging his stuff with him he sat there leaning on the wall looking at everyone "lets see...we have my sister, a girl with a gun, a wee girl. a dude aaaannnnd...a man with his priorities right guesturing to the man at the bar getting steadily more drunk. at then a dog barked and a look of fear in his eyes as his head snapped to the dog's direction, penfold hated dogs. when he lived in germany and very young when sparrow was but a baby he was bitten by a dog. another time when they lived in the south of england he got bitten again by a much larger dog he gripped his rifle and held it close ready to stab the thing if needed "get the dog away from me" he subconciously kept his sister close like when they were younger his eyes dead set on the dog watching it blinking very little while one arm was around sparrows shoudler the other was on his rifle leaving his legs for now

Wesley walked back over to the bar after pulling in the guy. God wasn't going to find himself at the bottom of that bottle. He had just poured himself another drink when the three females showed up. He was instantly being shouted at like he was back in boot camp. He quietly drank his scotch and refilled it. It was a little girl, he couldn't do anything. He let it go and kept drinking. He checked the wall clock it was indeed happy hour... somewhere.

That is when he heard the dog growl. He groaned loudly, he had said something about dogs earlier and here is one. Judging by the noise it was a big one, sure he used to have a German Shepard when he was younger, but that doesn't mean he is in love with them. He prefers cats over dogs.

"Alright settle down now, we don't need any fire fights. I've already been in five the past few days," He said trying to sober up due to the fact there was seven well armed people in the room and being drunk was not gonna help his case for surviving a fire fight with them. He sipped his drink. He definitely was drunk no doubt about it. He had heard Penfold's comment on how he had his priorities straight. He raised his glass and nodded his head towards the red haired man. He downed the rest of his drink and shook his head. He walked around back of the bar and found the peanut bowl. He smirked and grabbed a handful of them. He walked back around the bar and stood in the middle of the small crowd.

"Alright, we got an idea of sticking together and forming a group. I have no problems with this. The problems I do have with the situation are quite a lot in numbers and want to eat our flesh. That and the obvious distrust between us. We would all be worried that we will get killed in our sleep while somebody is on watch. Oh and the power struggle for the group leader. That always makes things interesting. The one thing that the people who want to be group leader won't have to worry about me. I'm done leading people, it almost got me killed a few times." He said trying his hardest to sound more sober than he actually was. He was sure that he was making some form of sense because if he wasn't he sure as hell was going to be dismissed and never asked for his opinion for anything. At the end of his little speech there he crushed a peanut and tossed the meat of the nut into his mouth. 'Needs more salt,' he thought to himself.

He walked back over to the bar and grabbed a glass that was sitting there. It looked like it had been used for beer or something. It was obvious it was a few days old. He light up a cigarette and waited for people to give him hell for the nonsense that he had just raised. Wesley might have been drunk, but he still could kick somebodies ass if he needed to.

Violet leaned back and watched their reactions with interest. First, Sparrow smiled from ear to ear and she guessed that was a good indication that the girl agreed, though she hadn't said anything, it was a pretty obvious sign. "I dont mind forming a group.... better than them outside... I hope." The man Sparrow had run up to hug said, and Violet sighed a small sigh of relief. She'd been half-afraid, half-hoping everyone would shoot her down. She wanted to form a group, but then again she didn't. It made sense, and seemed like the logical move, but Violet had never been one to follow logic. She'd cared more about her feelings than her thoughts, and, while that often got her in trouble, it kept her happy. For the most part.

"Alright settle down now, we don't need any fire fights. I've already been in five the past few days," Wesley said, breaking into her thoughts. He was at the bar again, and it was obvious he was drunk, but was trying to act sober for the rest of them. "Alright, we got an idea of sticking together and forming a group. I have no problems with this. The problems I do have with the situation are quite a lot in numbers and want to eat our flesh." He said, coming back over to stand by them. "That and the obvious distrust between us. We would all be worried that we will get killed in our sleep while somebody is on watch. Oh and the power struggle for the group leader. That always makes things interesting. The one thing that the people who want to be group leader won't have to worry about me. I'm done leading people, it almost got me killed a few times."

Violet nodded at this, looking around the group. Besides Sparrow and Heather, everyone seemed to be on edge. Especially herself. She sighed and slipped her gun away, about to speak up when the dark-haired girl did it for her. "I agree with..Violet..and the drunk teddy guy." Violet, hearing her name, turned her blue eyes on the girl. "We would have better chances at... living if we were together, if we could watch each others backs, because face it, if you try taking on a pack of those.. things by yourself, you most likely wont make it. But we have to trust each other more." Blair pointed towards the drunk man before going on. "We can't be worrying if, when we turn our back for a second to get some rest, we'll wake up with a gun pointed at our heads." Violet crossed her arms over her chest and looked at the floor guiltily. No doubt, most of them were probably thinking about her. She'd threatened pretty much all of them here, and the ones she hadn't pointed her gun at, Heather had. There was no question that the two sisters were probably the most suspicious ones here. Maybe, Wesley. For the most part, the rest of them didn't really seem to have what it takes to shoot a living human. Sparrow just seemed happy to have human contact, Blair seemed too grief-stricken about something, probably losing family members, and the fact that the new guy had carried some woman with a broken leg all the way here pretty much proved that he was more of a protecter than a killer. The girl with the dog was too quiet for Vi to get a read on. "All I'm saying is..we need to get to know each other more.. know our back ground storys, how we ended up living, that kind of stuff." That made her head snap up. Share their personal histories? Was she kidding? Violet looked at Heather for a second before sighing and rolling her eyes. Maybe this whole group thing hadn't been the best idea afterall.

The last person to speak was the girl with the dog. "If I may but in, standing here isn't going to get us far if we want to live..." Again, she was right. They all were.

Violet walked over to the bar, hopped up on the counter, and turned to face them, legs swinging over the edge. "Alright." She said with a sigh. "You're all right. A group is..." She looked for the right words, not wanting to say good idea, because really, to her, it wasn't. "The logical solution." She said, looking to Heather for a bit of help, she'd never been good with words that weren't offensive, but the young girl was too busy playing with the dog to notice. Vi rolled her eyes and groaned. "But we don't seem to be able to trust each other very well." She raised her hands. "Yeah, I know I'm probably the main offense." Running her fingers through her hair, she looked at them, then at Blair. "I really don't like the idea of sharing everything, though I think it's a good idea to start with names." She gestured to herself. "I'm Violet Fairbanks." She pointed to her sister. "That's Heather, my little sister." She pointed to the drunk man, "This is Wesley." Realizing that she knew no one else's names, she looked at Heather, who was still pplaying with the dog. "Bee." She hissed at her sister, somewhat annoyed. "Think maybe you can pay attention for once?"

Her sister looked up and rolled her eyes. "Oh please Vi, like I'm the one with the attention problems." Still, she sat up and looked at everyone. "I'm Heather, but as I explained to these two girls earlier, don't call me that unless you have a death wish. Bee, Nikki, or Nicole." She gestured to Sparrow and Blair. "That's Sparrow, and that's Blair." She then looked at the girl with the dog. She was the only one left who hadn't shared their names.

Violet, satisfied, hopped off the bar on the other side and grabbed her black duffel, tossing it up on the counter before hopping up next to it again. "I really don't think we need a leader..." She mused, thinking about what Wesley had said. "But what we do need is a general location and a plan on how to get there. As much as I'll miss this place, I really don't think we can just wait out the infection in this bar."

At that moment, the corpse that Penfold had brought in started moaning and Violet wasted no time in whipping out a knife and throwing it. It lodged itself firmly in the woman's skull, shutting it up. Everyone looked at her and she just shrugged and hopped off the counter to retrieve her knife.

Back at the bar, she used a towel to wipe it clean and looked at the others. "Oh! That reminds me..." She gestured to herself and her sister. "I'm Immune, so there's no risk in getting me sick, or me giving the virus to you, but..." She gave her knife a flick towards Heather before slipping it into her duffle. "Bee over there is a Carrier. The virus may not be airborne anymore, thank God, but she can still get you infected if you have any open wounds." She looked down at the glass in front of her, still half full of her abandoned drink, and ran her finger around the rim. "We learned that the hard way. Our Uncle owned this bar, hence the name. He had a splinter and Bee got it out for him. Not too long afterwards, the place the splinter had been in started swelling, then he got sick, then he died. We waited until the third day to kill him. Tonight." She gestured to a knife wound on her arm that she'd gotten in a scrape with another survivor. It was bandaged now, but at the time, it hadn't been. "Anyway, I've had this for quite some time, and Bee's been around me so we figured I was immune." She looked at the others. "Just thought you guys should know. Cover your wounds if you intend to stick with us. Oh, and also." She gestured to the now dead woman. "If you do get infected, I'm not afraid to kill you." Figuring she'd done enough talking, she lifted the glass to her lips.



Heather listened to everyone absently while she played with the new girl's dog. She spoke up when asked of her, but nothing more. She was tired of talking and... Tired just in general. Officially, she hadn't had more than two hours of straight sleep in three days. She'd been up all night with her Uncle, taking care of him, trying to make him comfortable in his misery. Then, earlier that night, before everyone had showed up, he'd attacked her and Violet had ended it. Absently, she looked at the clock, pulling away from the dog. 2:30 in the morning.

Heather rubbed her eyes sleepily and yawned, listening to Violet retell their story with Uncle Jack. "If you do get infected, I'm not afraid to kill you." The words repeated several times in her mind, having an eerie effect. Even me? Heather's tired mind wondered. She knew she was immune, but if she did happen to get a new mutation of the virus, would Violet be able to shoot even her?

Breaking her morbid thought, Heather stood and looked about lazily. "We need a plan now." She said with a yawn. The gun in her hand felt like it weighed a hundred pounds and her shoulders drooped slightly. She looked at each member of the group. It was good to be around people again. People she could trust. Violet might not trust them, but Heather did. She didn't care what Vi thought, if these people had wanted to kill her, they would have done it already. She just hoped they liked her as much as she liked them. She just hoped they wouldn't baby her too much. She liked feeling cared about, the best excuse for a parent she'd ever had was Violet, and she wasn't exactly the warmest person, but she really hated being treated like she was five or six.

Wesley was sloshed, he knew that for a fact. But two people just walked in with out a fucking problem. More so was the dick wearing the fatigues drinking his scotch. He saw the insignia and the rank emblem on his shoulder. The man was a deserter, no doubt about it. Even in his drunken state he had a mind to clot the guy in the head. He had dealt with deserters before. He often reported them to the brass and have them deal with it. Now there was no brass, no reports, just a lawless world. He grabbed the bottle out of his hand and said, "That's my bottle, find your own... Sir." His words were filled with hate.

He hated doing this to good liquor but it was the only way for him to stop drinking. He walked over to the sink and poured out the bottle. A tear fell from his face and into the sink mixing it with the scotch. He sniffed and rubbed his eyes before turning back around. He had blatantly ignored the girl that had walked in. The sarge drinking his scotch was a little bit more important than her. He knew that drinking that half of bottle was a terrible idea, he wondered why the hell he did it in the first place. Oh he knew why, he wanted to find God.

"Now, if people would stop interrupting this meeting of the minds. I would like to get the fuck out of here." He said. Wesley hated sitting around doing nothing. He hated being stationed on base. He preferred it when he was on his tours of duties. "Just to be perfectly clear, all need each other and we all don't trust each other. So until we get to Dellwood we are going to act all buddy buddy. Then we can all hate each other there." He said relighting up his smoke, 'stupid fire safety smokes' he thought before he continued, "I'm guessing the way, Jarhead here walked in without a care in the world the infected are at least gone for the time being. This is a good time as any to get out of Dodge." He walked over to his stuff and picked it up, he strapped his shotgun back to his back and made sure his pistol and his knife were secure in there appropriate place. He walked over to the window and saw that the horde was over by the gas station where he had came from. It was in flames, he groaned silently as the fire would draw every single infected in a 5 mile radius.

"So are we gonna do this or what?" He said with his non-dominate hand on the handle of the door. He was ready to go down fighting, Wesley had a warm stomach and a light headed feeling. 'Today is a great die to die,' he thought to himself as he looked out the window one last time.

Heather watched the others tiredly. In a moment, a man on a motorcycle came rolling in and nearly hit her. Though exhausted, she reacted quickly, stepping backwards. Why were so many people attracted to the bar? Dead an living? Was it just human instinct, in times of trouble, to migrate together. Or had her and Vi's little duo really picked up to nine just randomly?

Wesley then stood and started rambling about getting going, and, though she could barely get her feet to move, Heather nodded her head and yawned in agreement. "I agree with Wess." She said, hoping the nickname was okay. She liked giving out nicknames, and she hoped doing so would encourage them to use hers rather than her full name. She hated the name Heather. It was her mother's name and her mother had been nothing but a whore.

The next two things that happened shocked her. First, a female police officer pulled up, just outside the bar and slung open the back of her police van, telling them all to hop in. Heather couldn't help but laugh. Before the infection, everyone would have looked at the woman like she was a serial killer or a rapist, but now, hopping in the back of that van seemed like the best idea anyone had ever had. Despite her exhaustion, her blue eyes lit up brightly and she smiled a genuine smile, looking at Violet with a child's excitement. "Violet! Maybe we can make it! She has a van and all of us will fit!" She was well aware that Violet could see for herself, but being only 11, she felt the need to state it excitedly.

The next thing that happened, was the man with the motorcycle dragged a girl into the bar. She was badly beat and Heather watched her inspect her wounds. Instantly, Bee stepped backward. She was a carrier. Best not to infect the girl by accidently brushing up against her while she bandaged herself. "Sorry if I caused any trouble. If you want I can go take care of them...?"

"No." Heather said, shaking her head with a sigh. "Just join the club." She gestured towards the back of the van. "I don't know about you guys, but this is the best break me and Vi have had in weeks. I'm not questioning it." With that, she crossed the bar, and grabbed her and her sisters black bag off the counter. It was heavy and she had to put her gun and knife away to carry it, but with two hands, she managed to hold it down in front of her and half carry, half drag it to the van. Using all her remaining strength, she hefted the bag in and hopped in, pushing it all the way to the back.

Once inside, she lay down with a sigh, placing her blonde head on the bag, and using her arms as a pillow, she closed her eyes. It was extremely uncomfortable. Like laying on a pile of cans, but it would have to do. She was tired and not about to pass up a free ride and an opportunity for uninterrupted sleep.

She was asleep before everyone was even in the van.



Violet looked at the van with suspicion. Seemed too good to be true. However, she was not one to turn down a good offer and watched at Bee grabbed their bag and hefted it across the bar into the truck. Vi couldn't help it. She chuckled under her breath. It was a funny sight, seeing a skinny eleven year old struggle with the bag.

She sighed and hopped off the bar, slipping her gun away and looking at the others with a shrug. "Sounds like a pretty good deal to me. Come or not. Whatever." She shrugged and hopped in the back of the van.

By the time she got in, Heather was curled up on the bag sleeping already. Her body twitched and she moaned almost painfully in her sleep. The nightly nightmares. Vi winced and sat next to her sister. Gently, she pulled the little girl off the uncomfortable bag of canned foods and other, various not-so-soft items, and placed her head on her thigh instead.

She sat Indian style and gently stroked Bee's blonde and pink hair, wishing she could stop the girls nightmares without her waking in a scream. If she were to nudge her, that would most surely happen, however, if she acted as if she didn't hear the moans and the crying, or feel the twitching, it might stop after a few hours, and she would wake silently.

"Well hello there, ladies. I'd much appreciate it if you could place that scary gun on the desk, I'm liable to act rashly if I'm frightened." Tammy had her gun pointed at him by the time he said hello. Already, she had fished her knife out of her duffle bag and was pointing it at the girl, so she didn't have a weak point. What the hell was going on here? Two survivors, staring at her. She wanted to ask a million questions, but decided her best bet was to remain silent. It's worked for her so far in this mess. She looked at the girl as she turned her accusation to the man. It was, after all, him who brought those monsters to the door.

But she was still aware that the girl hadn't given her a name. Flicking her eyes to the man before her for a second, she realized this people were probably the ones she would either have to stick with, or kill. For some reason, killing them made her feel a little uneasy. But that could always be the best option. She frowned and furrowed her brows for half a second, a habit she has had when she was thinking since she was a child, before returning to her mask of showing no emotion.

"Okay, I know we just had a nice meeting and all, but I want to know names." Tammy's voice was rather sarcastic, but was once again curious in the end. She looked at both of them, but her eyes settled on the girl. She had been here longer. And the only thing she had done was apologize.

"Maybe if I tell you my name, you'll be less shy. It's Tammy. Tammy Jones." Although she had said her name, she said it so quietly they probably couldn't have heard her anyway. And after she spoke, there was a silence. At least, in the bar. She swore she could hear other people talking. No, she was imagining it... But she still found herself walking towards the door. She was quite aware of the zombies that were crowded at the door, moaning as they pushed against the glass and tried to get in. If you looked over them, however, in front of that bar, was a van. That was full of survivors. Her blue eyes widened slightly at the thought, and she blinked a couple of times, to make sure she wasn't making it up. But there it was, solid as ever. With a small girl in the back seat, sleeping with her head in the lap of an older girl. And an injured girl, with another girl speaking to her. And many, many more people. Too many to think of.

Turning around, Tammy regained her stance of having the gun pointed at the man, knife pointed at the girl. She then gave a small nod of her head towards the door, and looked at both of them.

"Come look. There's more of them."

Heather dreamed of home. Though, unlike most people, home was not a comforting thought for her. The constant moving, the smell of drugs and booze, screaming between Violet and her father, her father getting angry and swinging at her sister, whores in and out of the house every night. Her home had been a living hell. Even before the virus had broken out, her life had never been easy.

Then the dream shifted. It was later, just before the 84K virus had gone airborne. Violet was out getting their fathers latest fix while she sat at home coloring a picture, her dad laying knocked out on the couch behind her. They didn't have television in the tiny house, just a little radio, so they knew a little about the virus, but not a lot. Not as much as they should have. They knew it was deadly. That it was practically incurable, but not what it did to the human brain. Not that it turned people into monsters. Afterall, the disease had just started to spread.

Their father had been sick for days. He'd died in the middle of the night only to come back to them, perfectly healthy and demanding his drugs. Not a few hours later, he started getting sick again. Three days later and there Heather sat, on the floor of her living room, coloring a picture, while her dying father screamed and moaned in pain behind her on the bed.

She hadn't even noticed when he'd started to get up. Slowly, deliberately, the man rose and clasped Heather on the shoulder, making her jump, throwing her crayons everywhere. He chased her through the house and backed her into the kitchen. His skin was bleeding where he'd scratched himself too hard and, from his mouth a terrible noise gurgled.

Crying and shaking, Heather grabbed a kitchen knife and backed into the corner of her kitchen counter, holding the knife before her. "Daddy?" She cried as he advanced on her. "Daddy, please. Do you need something? Vi-" She choked. "Vi's getting you your stuff. Just wait, she'll be home soon. It's okay." She tried to speak to him in the same voice one would use for a child, but it came out all wrong because in this case, she was the crying child.

He came towards her, closing the distance and, just as his teeth sunk into her neck, she jammed the knife forward with a shriek, into his stomach. It caused him to stumble backwards, holding his stomach, but it only took a second before he was on her again. Her neck was bleeding a lot and she was already starting to get lightheaded. Weakly, she made a grab for the knife, but her grip slipped and he caught her in his arms, crushing her little body to his.

He was squeezing her. Like a boa constrictor squeezing the life out of it's prey. Slowly, she gave up kicking, her attempts becoming nothing more than short twitches of the muscle as spots started to cloud her vision.

But there was another sound in the room now. Running feet.

Her fathers grip on her loosened and there was a loud crash. The last thing she remembered before falling unconscious was a metal baseball bat crashing to the gound and Violet, bending down to catch her safely as she always had.

Heather woke with a start, sitting up abruptly, panting like a dog. Her chest heaved and her hand instinctively flew to her neck. Sticky liquid still ran down it, but she was thankful to find that it was only sweat. Just a dream. She told herself as she looked about. They were all still in the van, driving along steadily. Bee softly fingered the scar on her neck from that night. That was how she'd become a carrier. She'd been bit by one of them. Luckily, she hadn't gotten the virus though.

She sighed and dropped her face into her hands, rubbing the sleep from her eyes with a yawn. "Damn nightmares." She hissed and looked at the others. Hayley and Wayne were missing, but the sound of a motorcycle in the distance confirmed that Wayne was on his bike. Hayley was probably with him.

Heather looked at Wess. Now that he was no longer threatening Vi, he looked like nothing more than a teddy bear and she instinctively wanted to crawl over to him and give him a hug. Instead she looked at Violet. "Vi." She said, speaking softly. "Vi I'm hungry..." Bee looked at their bag tentatively. Violet had this thing about food rationing. They'd shared one can of cold chicken noodle soup between the both of them for three days. "I mean really hungry." She said, wringing her hands in her lap. They didn't have much food left, but she really wanted a full can of something to herself. Nothing half-assed.



Violet watched the others for a while in silence, eyes quietly observing them as they went about sleeping, talking, singing, hopping on motorcycles, whatever. The closeness of the van was driving her absolutely crazy and she mentally kicked herself for not volunteering to hop on the motorcycle with Wayne. Riding out in the open air would be great. It was exactly what she needed. She'd never been great with a lot of people or crammed spaces.

It was all she could do not to wring somebody's neck.

She'd never get any sleep in the van, that was for sure. Biting her lip, she tried to focus on her sisters breathing, the voices of Penfold and Jenn in the front, anything but the fact that she was in a van with seven other people. Then her sister sat up suddenly, sweating and panting like a mad man. "Woah Honey-bee." She said, kissing her sisters forehead. "Chill. Just a bad dream."

"Vi." The girl spoke quietly. "Vi I'm hungry..." She watched her look at the bag and Violet let out a huff, running her fingers through long blonde hair. She glanced about. Great. Another perk about having so many people around. Judgement. If she didn't give her eleven year old sister a can of food, she'd look like a jerk. What the fuck ever. She thought to herself. I'll raise her how I want. She was about to say no when Heather spoke again. "I mean really hungry."

"Oh you're really hungry are you?" She rolled her eyes and reached into their bag, grabbing a can of Spaghetti-O's and rolling it in her hand. "I'm pretty sure the rest of us are too, but.. Since you're so damned special..." Violet flicked out her knife and cut the can open, handing it to her sister with a smile as she rumpled her blonde and pink hair.

"Don't waste it." She said with a sigh and leaned back against the side of the van.

Suddenly a thump on the roof made her sit upright. What the hell...? She thought as something jammed claws into the metal and began to tear, a loud, earsplitting metallic shriek filling the air. Violet cringed. A Hunter. They had much sharper claws than most infected and were the only ones with enough speed and balance to be able to stay up there. He'd probably leapt from a nearby tree.

Wasting no time, Vi whipped out her gun and raised it shooting three times. The first got her a shriek from the creature, but it persisted. The second shot was a miss, but the third shot seemed to have work because there was a thudding noise as the creature rolled off the van into the street. Heart pounding, Violet sat down again and sighed.

A moment later, Wayne pulled up on his bike and informed Jenn that there was a town up ahead and him and Hayley were going to head in first to scout. Good. A town. Violet thought with a sigh. "Jenn?" She asked, leaning forward. "Think we can stop in the town? Maybe find a hotel?" She glanced at the others. "I don't know about you guys, but I really need a good shower and a meal in me right now." She said with a smirk before looking back at Jenn. The woman merely nodded and pulled off to follow Wayne and Hayley on the bike.

Maybe Violet could find some car dealership or a Harley's so she could get herself a motorcycle. She'd only driven one a few times, but she would give anything to be out of the van with so many people.

Wayne listened to Hayley's story of her a past and allowed a small smile to creep up on his face when she kissed the back of his neck. He took a long drag of his cigarette and blew the smoke out of his nose; He heard Hay cough so he took it out of his mouth and flicked it away. Keep you eyes open Hay. He called back to her. He had to start weaving in and out of cars the closer to town the got. He felt Hayley squeeze his chest and it couldn't help but bring back old memories. Those sweet nights with his wife when he cam home from Iraq made for the best loving. He shook his head and was suddenly jerked from reality when he heard gunshots. He skidded the bike to a stop and watched as a hunter flew off the roof and the man with the accent climbed on top and finished off the rest. He waited until he was sure that they were okay and continued into the city. He started to slow and he was soon covered in the shade of buildings. He carefully scanned the streets and rooftops; ever ready for an attack. He kept his eyes on the road and turned his head to the side, Hayley, keep your eyes open for an holtel. One that's not particulary in the middle of town. He said in a cautious voice. Also, keep your eyes open for a car delarship or a trucking yard. I have a feeling we'll be needing a new van. He took a right down the next street and kept cruising through the streets. He scanned the buildings and as they passed an office building, he saw infected in the lobby, scrounging on helpless people. He shook his head in disgust and slowed down as they approached a gas station. Radio back to Jennifer and tell her to not come into town yet. Tell her I'll find a holtel then get her a safe route. He said and stopped his bike by a gas pump. He slowly got off and drew a pistol from his hip. He pulled the handle out of its holder and checked for gas. When it started to drip out, he filled up his tanks. He let Hayley finish while he crept inside of the gas station. It hadn't been hit yet, but there were bodies covering the floors. He carefull stepped around the and started to fill up his back with can food and snacks. He grabbed a hershey bar and a pack of M&M's for the little one and a couple more carton's of smokes. He walked back out side in time to see a infect approaching Hayley. He started to run towards her and she looked up at him with a confused look on her face. He motioned with his arms to look behind her and when she turned it was fixing to grab her. He kept runnning a pulled a knife from his belt. In one fluid motion he kicked off of the gas pump and landed on top of the infect; driviing the knife in its skull. He raised himself up and spit on the ground. I'm about tired of this shit. He grumbled.

They loaded up on the bike and continued through town. Wayne finally spotted the perfect moltel and motioned for Hayley to radio Jennifer, telling her that they had found a moltel. He took the radio from Hayley when she was finished and gave Jennifer directions to get to them. He parked his bike and walked around while he waited for the van to pull up. They were on the very edge of town and had the perfect escape route if they needed it. The van pulled up beside him and he chuckled at the sight of the battered van and watched everyone file out. Glad you could make it officer. Wayne called out and smiled as Jen walked up to him. He grabbed his back pack and swung his rifle around to his front. He put the pack on and grabbed the saddle bags. I know it's not as comfortable as a holtel, but I figured the rooms on the outside would make it easier to get away if we needed to. He said and shrugged his shoulders. He walked over to a room and tried it's handle. When it didn't budge, he took a step back and kicked the door. He walked in and threw the bags on one of the beds and checked the rest of the room. He walked back outside, Their are two beds in each room is big. We can bunk together or you can take seperate rooms. He said and looked at everyone. He walked back inside and fished the candy out of his bag. He walked back out to the little one and knelt down beside her, It's not much dear, but I was hoping you would like it. He said and looked in her eyes. A wave of sadness washed over him and he quickly stood up. He looked over at the little one's sister and spoke to everyone, Once you get settled, come see me please. I have plenty of food for everyone. He said and looked towards the ground. He looked up at Jennifer and walked back in his room.

It didn't help Jen's laughter to get a pet on the head and be called Jenni, but it quickly stopped as another infected jumped the car. She starred at Penfold in terror as he was swaying on the roof of the van, but snapped back into reality as she realized she would crash if she didn't. As blood gashed in to the van, she just hoped it belonged to an infected, but quickly realized it didn't. "God dammit Penfold! Nobody dies on my watch! Stop trying to!" she yelled at him. The van was speeding dangerously along the road, but she couldn't risk having more hunters catch up. As he got back in, she saw how bad the injury was "New girl, up front, stop the bleeding!" she yelled at the girl that had just gotten into the car, then added "or anyone else!"

She felt her hands sweat, she had never lost anyone on a mission, and Penfold was not going to be the first! She knew she was only powered by adrenaline at this point, and thanked everything that might once have cared for all the car chases she had been in, swirling around still cars was much easier than going on the highway. She managed to hit one, the van slid sideways "SHITFUCK JEN FOCUS YOU FUCKTARD!" she cursed at herself. She regained control, hoping she hadn't caused any concussions.

As Wayne radioed she replied "George" instead of Roger or Copy, and tried to follow the directions. She nearly missed the turn, and had to yank the handbreak to get around it, speeding up to the front of the motel.

"Glad you could make it officer" she heard Wayne say, but the look she sent him, the real panic on her face probably, and Panfolds blood gushed all over her told the story as she jumped out of the van, hardly having parked. She ran around the front and yanked open the passenger door, getting her knife out she cut open the sleeve on Penfolds shirt, trying desperately to stop the bleeding "didn't anyone have needle and thread?" she demanded, slapping Penfold on the cheek, pretty hard "wake up!" she commanded. "Dammit Josê if you die on me!" she screamed, first the realizing that she had lost it for a few seconds.

She knew she was hysterical, she was trained not to be, even under extreme conditions, yet she was. Not yet in the "does something really stupid" state, but hysterical and irrational, and probably the worlds least comfortable driver not to mention. Why the hell was everyone so calm around her? She started blushing as she realized what a fool she had just made out of herself.

Wayne ran out of the door as he heard Jennifer shouting and watched as she tried to help the accented man. He ran over to the van and picked him up. He carried him into the room and layed him on his bed. He hollered for Jen to get in there and made a little fire in the sink. He stuck his knife in the fire until the blade glowed red. He set the handle in his mouth and walked over to them. He turned his arm over and looked at it. Hold his feet Jennifer. Wayne said trying not to sound rude. Hayley, hold his other arm. He said and took the knife out of his mouth. He grabbed a rag out of his pack and put it in the mans mouth. It's going to hurt like hell mate. Just bite down and bare it. Wayne said as he took the knife out of his mouth. He let out a huff and pushed the hot metal to the mans arm and watched as he tried to thrash around. Sweat was rolling off of Wayne's forehead as he finally finished off the last wound and the man lay there huffing. Wayne sat in a chair and put his head in his hands. He sighed and looked at his hands. They were covered in blood again. Wayne walked out of the door and sat on the ground. He looked over at Blaire and Violet, I'll help you find bikes. I saw a place on my way in. He said tiredly. He stood up and started to walk towards them, completely ignoring the blood running down his face. He felt dizzy all of a sudden and he stood still. He stood there and swayed for a minute. He turned and looked at Jennifer standing in the door way. At the barn, there was an Infect ... He started to say as he hit the ground.

Hayley was woken up by Wayne as he passed their room and into another with Jennifer and Scottish man. She heard him yell for her to help and then she ran in to see the man on the bed and Jennifer holding down his arms. Hayley ran to the mans side and held down his arms. He was thrashing and she kept losing her grip because she wasn't the biggest or strongest girl around. Hayley got up on the bed and sat down on the mans arm. He was struggling as Wayne was operating and doing whatever to the man. Hayley looked away and didn't want any more to be a part of this torment to the man with the wound, then just having to help hold him down. After what seemed like the longest minutes she had experienced the procedure was over. Then Wayne got up and left the room in somewhat an odd fashion. He had looked to be a bit disoriented and weak. Hayley ignored it for a bit and then helped the accented man with his wound and she gave him a spoon and a can of beans to eat and help drag his mind away from the pain in his wounded arm. Once Hayley knew that the man was ok with his food she got up and went to go find Wayne. She walked out and was there in time to see Wayne speak something to Jennifer but the suddenly collapse. "Wayne!" Hayley yelled scared and ran over to him. She quickly knelt beside him and lifted his head into her lap. "Wayne! Wayne what's wrong!?" Hayley yelled down at him tapping his cheeks softly to try and get him to stay with her. She was getting teary eyed and quickly took a bottle of water from her pack and took off a piece of clothe, ripping a long piece from the bottom of her tank top. She soaked the clothe in water and wiped at Wayne's face softly. She wiped at the blood and cleaned all the dirty, dust, and red liquid off. She then poured some water over his forehead to try and wake him up. "Wayne, please speak.... Jennifer!" Hayley looked up at the police woman pleading for help. "What should we do?" She didn't want to let Wayne die he was the only man she trusted with her life and knew that he would protect her. She needed to help him. but what on earth was wrong with him.

Jen was so happy to have Wayne take control over things so she could snap herself out of her panic that she could have hugged him tight. She didn't, she rather helped him drag Penfold into the room, and help him with the wound. The world seemed to calm down a little as Penfolds wounds had closed. It wasn't until he had performed the cauterization she though far enough to think know it was a bad idea. She sat down on the bed next to Penfold, smiling carefully at him "you okay?"

When Wayne left, she realized he had blood dripping down his forehead, and that it was not just Penfolds. She got up and followed him, just in time to see him drop to the ground. "Dammit Wayne" she muttered under her breath, walking over, more back in focus now "Hayley, Violet, Blair, help me!" she ordered, grabbing him by one arm, getting help with the other she dragged him into the first room she got to. It would anyways be smart to have someone other than Penfold who'd just been out himself to possibly supervise him. She got him up on the bed, and looked at the would, she called out to Blair "alcohol! stitches!" She grabbed papertowels from the room and pressed on the wound, waiting for Blair to stitch up her second patient that day. She assisted as best as she could.

When he was stitched up she got gauze from her belt and wrapped his head tightly, then lay him over in the recovery position. She called Haley over "look after him, he might start throwing up if he has a concussion" she explained, then placed two painkillers and a water bottle in her hand "and he might want these when he wakes up" she said when, although if would be more appropriate. She wouldn't worry people, and no body was allowed to die with her around. She had told him he wouldn't be allowed to die. She got the trash bucked over and placed next to the bed "in case he hurls".

She closed the door behind her, ushering everyone else into the motel, unloading the van of any food and drink, locking and barricading doors "remember to draw the curtains in your rooms" she said, then added "and I have some pain killers to those who need" pain killers wasn't all she had, but she didn't say so. "I suggest we keep watch on shifts, two together at a time". She blinked heavily a couple of times, the last Ritalin was wearing off, and she desperately needed to sleep soon.

Several things happened at once. First, Penfold pulled a small Asian girl into the van and had her climb in back. She looked at the girl with mild shock and watched her try to catch her breath. Then, Penfold pulled himself out on top of the moving van and started hacking infected as they drove. Violet sighed and silently prayed that he didn't get hurt. What was wrong with her? First, she'd volunteered to form this little group, then, she'd allowed herself to trust them, mostly anyway, and now she was both praying and hoping for them not to get hurt? She'd never cared for anyone but herself and Heather and she definitely not religious.

A moment later, Wayne radioed them that he'd found a motel on the edge of town and Violet nearly shrieked with happiness, though she managed to control herself. She waited as Jenn pulled off and found the motel before climbing out and stretching out her body deliciously. It was wonderful to be out of that crowded van. More than wonderful. Perfect.

After a quick search for potential danger, Wayne came back and announced that there were two beds in every room and they could either bunk with someone or go solo. Vi clasped Heather on the shoulder. "We'll share a bed if someone wants to bunk with us." She said. She really didn't like the idea, but she would love to have someone other than her and Heather in the room. If something went down, it would only mean more protection for Heather. Quite frankly, she didn't give a shit about herself. As long as Bee made it out of this alright. If her little sister made it to Dellwood, maybe Vi could try and salvage what was left of the girls childhood.

At her words, Bee immedietly pulled away from her and went to Blair. "Can you bunk with us? Pleeeeeeeease." She heard her sister beg, almost whine, and Vi looked at the beautiful brunette. How could someone manage to look like a supermodel in all this mess? Nonetheless, Violet was happy that Bee had picked Blair to befriend. The girl seemed to be around the same age as her and, maybe a bit softer, but capable of handling herself. If Violet had been a normal girl, she suspected the two of them would have probably been friends at one point. She smiled at Blair the best she could. "I'm down with that if you are." She said simply.

Then, Wayne came over and handed Heather a couple pieces of candy, making Violet smile. The fastest way to earn her trust and loyalty was to be nice to Heather first. You could sweet talk Violet all you wanted, she didn't give a damn, but when it came to her sister, if you were kind to her, you were bound to earn her trust. It was the fastest way to get to her. "Once you get settled, come see me please. I have plenty of food for everyone." He said directly to her and she nodded, hefting her bag on her shoulder.

Then Blair walked up to her just as a big commotion over Penfold's wound kicked up. Violet figured she could have helped, but she'd never really been good with medical. The most she could have done was hand Wayne supplies or get in the way. So she just hung back and looked at Blair as she talked."Um..hey, I'm Blair..I was wondering if you wanted to come with her to see if they have any other means of..well driving in this town, I don't know about you, but I don't like small spaces and that van makes me queasy." That made Violet smile. For real.

"Hell yeah." She laughed lightly. "I was thinking the same exact thing."

Just then, Wayne came running out of the room looking exhausted. "I'll help you find bikes. I saw a place on my way in." He said and Vi started to nod in thanks before he hit the ground, out cold.

Seconds later, Jenn was screaming for all of them to help carry him to a room and Vi looked at Blair. "Rain check on those bikes for a minute." She said and helped Jenn carry Wayne to safety. Somewhere, in all the commotion, Heather got lost, but Vi spotted her heading out to the parking lot. Probably checking cars for supplies and gas. That's my girl. S

When everything had settled a bit more, Violet came back out to Blair. "Ready to go find something to ride?" She asked with a smile.





Heather smiled at Wayne when he handed her the M&M's and Hershey's bar. "It's not much dear, but I was hoping you would like it." He said to her with a smile. She took them gratefully and watched as a sad expression came over his face and her started to pull away.

But Heather didn't let him. Instead, she ran up to him and squeezed him tightly around the waist. "I do like it!" She said cheerfully and looked up at him. "Thank you." Candy was like gold in this new apocalyptic world, and the fact that he'd chosen to give it to her, made her practically giddy. They like me. She thought to herself. She was worried that they'd all think she was nothing but dead weight. That they'd have to baby her and she would slow them down.

Instead, they gave her candy. Sadly, she realized that this rag tag group of suvivors that she'd known for less than a full day was the closest thing to a full family she'd ever had. She chuckled to herself. When you start to think of strangers as family, you know your life is shitty. She thought with a smirk as she pulled away from Wayne and turned back towards Vi.

But suddenly, there was commotion. Medical stuff that Heather would only get in the way of. So, instead, she cracked open her M&M's and leaned back on one hip, popping a few in her mouth, looking around the hotel. Checking the cars for gas would probably be a good idea, but she really didn't feel like good ideas right now.

Movement caught her eye and Heather froze, watching a couple of- wait, were those... kids?- scale the side of the building and climb down. They couldn't have been much older than her. Shaking her head, shocked, Heather looked at the others. No one seemed to notice. They were all too busy working on Penfold and Wayne.

With a sigh, she decided to take matters into her own hands and headed straight for the car she'd seen them duck behind. She decided not to take out her gun, but kept it in easy reach just in case. They were just kids, like her, but that didn't mean they wouldn't kill her. In fact, they'd probably be more likely to kill her than one of the adults. There's no way two little kids like that had lived this long and not killed anyone or anything.

Rounding the car, she stopped, finding the two crouched there. They looked to be the same age, and had the same features, but it was tough to tell from behind. Siblings. She thought, and then they turned towards her and she dropped that thought immedietly. No, more than that. Twins.

"I'm Heather." She said, attempting a cheerful tone. "You can call me Bee." She saw the two of them starring at her M&M's. "M&M's?" She offered, holding out the bag with as pleasant a smile she could manage without being downright creepy.

Jen felt tears press on, not for any particularly good reason, she just had nothing more to give. She was just so, so tired. She didn't even protest as Penfold pulled her down on the bed, just sat in pure apathy until he gave her another pet on the back. She leaned towards his hand, closing her eyes and ate the biscuit. It tasted dry, the crumbles just laid on her tongue. She still got it all down, then helped herself to a large gulp of water. She didn't have the energy to laugh, she was just plainly exhausted, and as she sat down she really noticed. She considered taking more Ritalin, but maybe someone else could take the first watch. She closed her eyes again, leaning against Penfold "don't let me fall asleep" she muttered. She offered small smiles to his jokes, but soon, quiet streams of salty tears trickled down her eyes. She pulled her legs up on the bed, resting her face on her knee to hide her tears. She was probably the most pathetic, most intrusive policewoman Penfold had ever met, but there was just something so reassuring about crawling up close to the gigantic man. She started drifting of into sleep, twitching a few times.

Hayley looked down at Wayne as he stroked her face. She couldn't stand to see him so weak. She watched as Wayne got up and checked himself in the mirror, then he walked out of the room. Hayley quickly stood up and walked around. She saw how hungry and tired everyone was even Jennifer the strong independent police woman was exhausted, and then Hayley saw the little girl, Heather she thought her name was giving some candy to too other lost children. Hayley couldn't contain the small tear that went down her face. She knew that all these people were her family now and now she had to make sure they all stayed alive. Hayley ran back in and grabbed her bow and arrows and slung both the sheath's strap and bow string over her chest. She then dragged the saddle bag full of cans out and called out to everyone, "Listen up no one gets to go to sleep yet before eating something! I don't care if you haven't eaten in days or ate a couple hours ago, everyone grab one and eat! Don't want people dying from starvation." She yelled out in a commanding leading sort of voice. She was pretty much fed up with everyone looking so miserable from running around, not eating, shooting infects, and lack of sleep. "Then I think after we all have a nice meal of whatever you get, retire to a room for the night. And anyone who wants to volunteer for the first night shift is welcome. I will take the first shift and patrol the perimeter." She yelled and sat down opening the bag of food. "Now everyone dig in. I don't wanna see anyone without some yummy yummy beans or veggies or whatever in their hands." She said offering everyone a small smile.