Yashie staggered backwards, caught his heel against a piece of masonry and fell backwards onto his butt just as the arrow caught the little Zombie in the temple. His weapon clattered to the ground beside him, the steel blades producing a high ringing noise. He stared for a while before he actually understood what had just happened, what he had been spared the pain of having to do by this stranger. He crawled closer to the corpse and knelt near it, not heeding the foul smell that emanated from it and stayed that way for a good minute, trying to control himself. Only then did he raise his head and look at the woman.

"I don't like to kill the small ones. It always breaks my heart when I have to. I'm Diana, Diana Tanashiba. That's a handy weapon you have there. I don't think I've seen one outside of old Kung-Fu movies." Yashie nodded, taking a couple of seconds to assimilate and comprehend what she said. "Yes, it goes to my heart ... to kill children." he said sadly and was almost overcome by another fit of sadness. But he got the better of it and rose to his feet, picking up his trusty Shaolin Spade and wiping the blood-stained end on the shirt of the now dispatched zombie. Later he would pass it through a fire to sanitize it, to rid it of the dreaded Solanum Virus.

He drew a deep breath to speak, but only managed a dry rasp. Licking his lips, he tried again. "Yes, this one is rare ... I had this made for me, specially, just in case of an Outbreak. Diana ... I'm Yashie ..." he said and held out his right hand to her, taking in her appearance slowly. Another survivor, this was good. The chances of survival increased when one travelled in small groups. He cast around for something to say, and then tried "Nice bow you have."

Yashie was distracted by the entrance of Gabriel. Smiling to the other survivor, Yashie greeted him with a thumbs-up also. "You're safe ... good. No trouble, I hope...?" he enquired politely, glad of the other's safety. And hearing Gabriel introduce himself to Diana, Yashie opened his mouth to say something about how she had just killed a Zombie when he had hesitated but paused before he could even make a single sound, froze in horror with his mouth hanging comically open. He raised his left hand and pointed it at Gabriel's shirt and said in a tone of great urgency, "That blood ... it's not yours ... TAKE IT OFF! Take the shirt off! Now!" he demanded, for the fear of infection was too great, and he was paranoid about the spread of Zombies through bodily fluids ... he shouldn't be blamed, the times were such. He took a step forward, alarm clearly writ on his face.

Solamon wasn't surprised that the girl had followed him but perhaps, secretly, a litte glad. Believe it or not, the old man didn't have a lot of friends, in this desolate apocolypse, only Terry and his family in the supermarket. He's met with them once every week, to show them he was still alive and talk as if the world isn't dead. Solamon didn't hve his own family. He wished he had. There was only two woman he had been with before, on a relationship level, and neither had worked. This woman though, as vague a feeling as it is, he felt like he needed to watch for her.

"Do you have a name?" He asked her; knowing it was better to call her "woman" or "person". Solamon had to admit, she really did look starving. He took off his bag, ruffled his hand through the contents, a bag, some tapes, canned food, and a small box no bigger then his hand and as tall as his fist. Solamon took the folds of the box and opened to reveal a dried fruits lined up, one on top of each other, took about five, clasped it in his hand, threw the box back in the bag and kept moving.

Solamon held the small black fruit in his hands and extended them toward Thalia. "Eat, it's good!" He said enthusiastically, throwing one up in the air and eating it himself, surprsingly sweeter then any fruit, and he spat out the large seed on the ground. "They're Dates." He said again and offered the remaining four to her, hand still out, until she grabbed them all.
The supermarket was looming in the distance and three silhoutes were standing right in front of the store. At first Solamon thought it was Terry and the family but as he walked closer reilized it wasn't them. "Wait a second." He slurred the words, walking towards the group of three, a stern look on his face, one hand at the pizza paddle, and another on his gun.

He was in front of the three, took out his gun in his hand, and it layed limpily on his side as he bombarded them with questions.
"Where's Terry? His Family? Who are you? You? You?"

**

"Hey." Ren called over, holding her date's big hand. She waved over to Thalia, who had been chatting nervously with Marcus. With a bright grin, Thalia dragged her date over to Ren's couch. They were in her apartment, because Ren, and Thalia, frankly, didn't exactly trust the boys very well. This was just for fun, for shits and giggles. Definitely. Thalia sat down and crossed one leg over the other absently, as she watched Ren curiously. Ren reached into her pocket, and pulled out a plastic baggie, with white powder in the corner. A small, flushed, excited grin on her face.

"It's Joy Powder." She said, mesmerized, and Thalia instantly was caught by the infectious excitement of her best friend. The two boys, well, Thalia didn't really care enough to see what they thought. They were only puppets in this game. Of course. They had sniffed it, and everything was a buzz. All Thalia could remember was waking up, hours later, naked, beside Ren on the floor. The boys were nowhere to be seen, and the plasma T.V had gone missing.

Thalia woke up first, and held her head confusedly. When she saw who she was beside, she giggled. Ren then woke up, with a sleepy and happy smile. They were just friends, only ever friends. Nothing more. So close their bond was that there was no awkwardness. They clutched at each other and simply laughed for several minutes.

"Again, huh?" Ren asked, and Thalia nodded in agreement.

"Every time, Ren." Thalia smirked. "It always happens like this."

"Aww shit." Ren then exclaimed, looking at the bare spot in the wall where the T.V had been. "Bastards stole my T.V!"

**

I'm happy you didn’t live to see the world turn to shit, Ren.

Hungry. Starving, and following Solamon's footsteps. She would have gotten her own food, but the three men who had accosted her had taken all of it. The cookies, and the bag of fruits and greens. But she still had her dagger, not to mention the not-so-faithful HK P7. Her father. Thalia didn't really feel sad about him. Most likely he would be dead. But there was no mourning with that fact. He wasn't a bad father, but he was cold. Distant. That's all. Not good, not bad. Solamon. Thalia figured he was okay. If he didn't make any bad approaches now, he most likely never would. For that she was grateful. Her fool’s pride, as Ren once called it, however, thought differently. She was determined to force Solamon to take the first step into establishing this potential friendship. He would have to.

Solamon then turned, precisely at that time, to look at his companion. He asked for her name, and she gave it to him simply enough. His voice sounded thick, but it was also clear. Even Solamon was suffering somewhat from all this, despite how indestructible he had appeared.

Another growl of hunger, of protest from her poor stomach. Thalia held it gingerly, trying not to irritate her broken rib bone. She figured Solamon heard it, because he turned to her again, and looked her over. Thalia faltered, and stiffened, prepared to run, but she knew there was no lecherous intent from this. He was simply looking with concern, and perhaps a hint of amusement. He opened his pack, and procured a box. A sweet smell drifted lazily from it. Thalia's mouth began salivating slightly at the thought of eating, seeing food so close to her. He then ate one, haphazardly tossing one into his mouth, and Thalia saw the pleasure in his eyes as he chewed. An enthusiastic offer later, and Thalia greedily grabbed at the other four dates. She gave him a quiet thanks, and chewed slowly, savoring every bite of the sweet fruit.

They neared the super market that Solamon had mentioned earlier, with the family, and the man named Terry. There were three figures standing there, as Solamon and Thalia approached, and she was still munching on the last date. Thalia's relaxed face grew cold as she gripped her gun in two shaking hands, aiming it upwards without hesitation. She wasn't surprised when she saw Solamon do a similar action, with the pizza paddle and his own Glock. Prepared, in case things went wrong. Prepared for anything. She closed one eye, and aimed at the one in the middle, and she forced her hands to stop shaking. They did. A quick click, and her safety was off. She aimed it directly at the heart of one of the men, and Solamon began questioning the three people.

Adrien hadn't known what to do when a shrill scream rang out from somewhere in the store. She was so shocked she stumbled backwards and hit the ground, shivering as the wet sound of a sloppy eater drifted into her ears. She hated that noise, and it made every piece of hair on the back of her neck stand up as she ducked behind a shelf. She heard the other survivor yell with the anger she'd had when she first started to fight and peaked out from her hiding place just as one of Them came through the door. It was so grotesque she had to look away as he beat it to death. Well it was already dead, but the specifics didn't matter. Her pulse was ringing so loudly in her ears she could barely hear the hideous moans of another and loud, maniacal laughter of the other survivor as he did away away with it, then darted out the way which she came. To her it had happened so quickly, and she didn't even feel how hard she was shivering as opened her eyes and looked back once more. The first one was still barely clinging to its 'life'. Giving little whimpers as it attempted to drag itself up.

No chance of that. Adrien stumbled to her feet with the help of the wall and let out a long shaky breath as she looked around. The place was empty now, and her body didn't have enough energy to run to wherever the other one had went so made her way to some of the knocked over shelves. Adrien stuffed a few coats she make into blankets into her bag and managed to salvage some of those little chocolates every department store sold with a bag of chips and a few bottles of water. She wondered absently while the other one hadn't done the same and then smiles to herself. "He must have supplies then. That's just perfect. I'm willing to do anything right about now, too." Satisfied, she turned to leave and made her way to the door...and nearly died of a heart attack at the sight of another person.

They had purple hair and was crouched next to a wall smiling at her like a child on Christmas. They were alive and beside them was a notebook scrawled with the words 'Hello." Adrien had to laugh in spite of herself. "Hi there," She said, then she grew serious. "Looks as much as I'd love to get to know you, there are others around. We need to find them. I don't want to have to this alone anymore than you do and dark is coming soon so we should make our tracks."

Adrien tucked a few stray hands of scarlet hair out of her face before continuing out the door, not stopping to see if the girl had followed. She wasn't in the mood for convincing and her usually sweet demeanor had vanished as the restless hours wore on, replaced by useless hope and fear. She made her way to the front of the store and up the group, not even pausing to see what she tripped over halfway there. But she did stop when she heard yelling. Loud, frantic yelling from the one with glasses in their group and she looked around out of habit, hoping none of Them were anywhere near. She heard him demand for one of them to remove their shirt and took a step back. Insanity wasn't abnormal in these times but he seemed especially unstable until she realized what he had mentioned. He was right. The risk of infection was way to high, so she made her way forward anyway, staying quiet until the issue was resolved.

Gabriel raised his eyebrow at the first survivor he'd met. He certainly wasn't expecting for him to start yelling at him to take off his shirt. Was this guy crazy? He laughed nervously and ignored him, until he realized that this survivor wasn't going to be happy until he'd taken his shirt off.

"Okay, dude, chill!" Grabbing the end of his shirt he lifted it over his head. He held it out towards them, inside out. "Look, it didn't even soak through," he mumbled as goosebumps appeared and raised the hairs on his arms. There was only a slight breeze, but it was chilly enough.

Ignoring how awkward he felt to be the only shirtless person in the group, he found himself thinking it through. Perhaps they had a point. Even if the blood wasn't enough to soak through the shirt, it was dangerous. Gabriel was lucky that he had no open cuts or scrapes on his torso. This survivor may take this disease ridiculously more seriously than Gabriel did, but he couldn't deny that the infection rate was higher than ever. He wasn't sure how exactly but he decided to be more careful with his actions. He'd try to think of things like this before they had to be screamed at him.

Gabriel spit at the concrete, uncomfortable with the way it had turned to foam during his exertion with the undead, and uncomfortable with admitting that he had been wrong about something. Whatever. "I'm going in to see if I can find another shirt," he mumbled before slouching off to go around the back to pick up his black backpack again. But as he started to walk away he spun back around to the sound of a man questioning the trio. His hand clutched tighter around the handle of the mallet he still held. "Where's Terry? His Family? Who are you? You? You?"

Choosing to keep his mouth shut for once, he waited for one of the others to answer his questions first.

Yashie shook his head. "I shall not risk you reanimating, and having to burn you after you died but before you reanimated would be ... painful. Fabric can be obtained quite easily, I assume. We shall see." He kicked the shirt with his foot onto the head of one of the zombie that he had just exterminated, kicking the head to one side of the road. He had just taken his matchbox out and was striking a match against the side and simultaneously thinking of asking Gabriel for his name and of suggesting that they go indoors and procure some food when two people, a very old, quite grown-up man, complete with a beard. Yashie first saw his pizza-paddle and only then took in the face of the man, and had circumstances been more favorable, he would have said something about how he and the stranger were weapon-brothers, given how the head of the Pizza peel resembled the spade end of his Monk's Spade. However, having a few guns pointed at him was not a situation conducive to childish statements, so he shook his head.

"Where's Terry? His Family? Who are you? You? You?" The man seemed to have a female confederate, also armed. They were probably bandits, people who sought to profit from disaster and stealing from, and killing survivors for their supplies. There were always unscrupulous elements, no matter what situation the society was in. He dropped the match and looked at the two. "I'm Yashie ... this is Diana. That is ... erm ... I haven't got his name yet. We don't know Terry ... who are you, if I may ask? What do you want?" Even as he said this, his mind went through simulations of the situation turning violent but it always ended bad for him. They had guns and were clearly ready to shoot. Maybe they were here to raid the store? He didn't know.

He turned around and shrugged helplessly at Diana and Gabriel as if to say he had no idea what was going on. In order to keep his hands from shaking he drew another match, lit it and held it to a piece of scrap newspaper. He then held that to the sleeve of the shirt, waiting for it to catch on fire. Once it ignited, he held his blade over the fire, heating it to sterilize it. He kept his eyes on the other two, however, feeling apprehension rise in him.

Pointing the gun at someone. It felt like a pleasure. Of strength that had disappeared for a while, but had now come up. Thalia smirked with pure pleasure. Now, she had the power to take a life. The equation of life over death. One life was at the mercy of her finger tips. One twitch, one little twitch of her index finger, and it would be over in a show of blood. Two men and a girl. The situation almost appeared to mirror what she had gone through a few hours ago, but she kept the gun trained on smaller male, with glasses. One of them was also without a shirt, baring his torso for all to see. And baring his vulnerable flesh in case an infected decided to come up and bite... and there would be no way to save him. But that didn’t matter too much. The girl was pretty, and Thalia thought wildly that Ren would have liked her. But as she was between two men, one with a naked upper body, Thalia felt unmistakable rage. She didn't even take a chance to glance at Solamon, as apprehensive as she was, or more so.

The small one, the one Thalia was aiming at had answered first. His name was Yashie, and the girl was Diana. They didn't know the name of the third. Yashie spoke with a voice that seemed to be forced calm and politeness. Avoiding a conflict. Thalia figured he wasn't raping the woman, then. Especially if he didn't know the shirt-less man. Her finger loosened very slightly on the trigger. But she could still squeeze it and gain an almost sure hit on the man, even if she missed his heart. Maybe pierce a lung.

God. That is sick! Don't think that. These are humans! Not zombies!

She shook her head angrily, still glaring at the man who had spoken, in particular. Her timid-ness had all but faded away. Yashie had shrugged, holding his monk's spade; however it wouldn't do much good whatsoever in this situation. Yashie had pulled out a match, and lit a flare with an old, crumpled bit of paper. Sterilizing the blade. What was he doing? Preparing to cauterize someone? Was there an injured party in the market?

"This man claims a man named Terry lived here with his family." Thalia said with a careful tone, teeth clenched. "If none of you know him... you probably killed him."

She spat on the ground at her feet, her face full of disdain as she shifted her gaze between the two males.

"I'm Thalia. He can speak for himself." She pointed her free hand at Solaman.

Tense. The air was full of it. Like a lion ready to break loose of its cage, for all hell to break loose. Thalia was outnumbered, but she had Solaman. And the guns, against these three. The stronger weapons won the day, if this ended up turning into a violent meeting, rather than a greeting of two survivor groups. A spot of blood was still on the shirt-less man's lower left ab, as if he had been wearing something soaked with the metallic red liquid.

"Filthy bandits." Thalia cursed, and looked at Solamon. "Do we shoot?"

Diana didn't bat an eye as Yashie began yelling at the other survivor to remove his shirt. She knew as well as most people how high the risk of infection ran, especially if the blood came from the brain of a Zack. She watched as the other survivor removed his shirt with crossed arms. She didn't favor him very much. He seemed to headstrong to her and being headstrong got you killed here.

She saw one survivor exit the supermarket, apparently unscathed. She gave her a once over and saw no blood nor bite-marks. She couldn't be sure if she was infected yet or not, but made a mental note to keep a close eye on her. She jumped a little as she heard to more people approach their little gathering from behind. One an old middle-eastern man and the other a younger girl. The older man began yelling at them asking where Terry was and the girl stood there with her gun raised. It was apparent that both were hostile, but she was sure they could be talked down.

"We don't know any Terry. We came here in search of provisions. I tailed them here and saved this one's ass," she said pointing to Yashie. "Well," she said rubbing the back of her head, "I didn't really save him, he was doing fine on his own, but I felt that I had to help out a little."

"This man claims a man named Terry lived here with his family." The younger woman said "If none of you know him... you probably killed him"
"Nah that's not it. Some of the Zacks looked fresh, so I'm assuming that a couple of older ones found their way in and turned your Terry and his family here not to long ago. Give or take an hour or two." Diana said as coolly as she could manage.

She looked over to the younger woman who announced herself as Thalia. "So lower your gun, we're not a threat to either of you. I don't don't about these guys," she said pointing to the two behind her, "but I sure as hell know I'm not."

Solamon examined the four individuals one by one. The first person under examination was Gabriel and his shirtless self, then the woman, Diana, obviously asian and small, another woman who was equally thin with a bizarre hair colour, and then Yashie himself, who looked a little bit like the woman. The name Yashie. Yashie...was it arabic? Persian? Turkish? Did it fit with the names? Nezam, Mohammed, Ghasem, Yashie..
Arabic name, but this character didn't have the look of many arabs. He wasn't tall nor strong and the colour of his skin definitly led the doubt yet indefinitely; he was the leader of this group.

Though he was carefull, Solamon didn't have rage, fear, or any emotion visible on his face. He had listened to this Yashie and answered his questions.
"I am Solamon. Here to see Terry, the man with the family, a friend of mine." Though he inadvertantly glanced at Thalia, he was surprised by the bloodlust that eminated from her, and made a mental note of it when she asked of she could shoot them.

"Only if they lie." Solamon said and turned to Diana who spoke out. He didn't know why people like to call those...things Zack or Zacks (It sounds like they try to humanize them with a name) but eitherway listened to her theory of how the family and Terry were turned to Zacks.
"Yashie and you." Solamon pointed to Diana with the pizza paddle. "I want to see them."

Whisper was crouching quietly, looking up and smiling at the girl with short, flaming hair. The girl laughed at her, though she wasn't quite sure why. It was rather rude, actually. She would have to remember to ask this girl later why she was so rude. The girl turned away and started walking. Follow her! You need help. You will die. You'll both die, a voice in her head told her. She quickly stood up and followed the girl, grabbing her notebook. She held her staff in the crook of her arm, while simultaneously writing down some standard questions on the paper.

'Who are you?' 'Where are you from?' 'Are you infected?' Whisper focused on three main questions as she followed quietly behind the bright haired girl. Then there was a scream. She dropped her notebook and pencil, then bent down quickly to pick them up. Voices. Worried, rushing. This didn't seem like a good situation to the blue haired girl.

Looking around, she saw that there was a whole little group in the store. There was the girl who had found her, an older man, and various others who looked to be somewhere in their twenties. They were mostly young, which was a good sign. Youth meant life.

Why was the one boy shirtless though? She then spotted the blood on his shirt and did her best to hide behind the orange haired girl, though that was impossible since they were the same height. There was also the girl with the gun, and the angry older man. Whisper closed her eyes, clutching to Adrien's shoulders and breathing heavily, not helping with trying to remain hidden. She didn't like the looks of this. Angry people with guns, more angry people with guns. It was a recipe for death, zombies (or 'Zacks' as the one called Diana termed them).

She continued to listen quietly as Thalia, Solamon, Yashie, and Diana conversed. It didn't sound like either side was telling the truth. To her, it seemed that Solamon was delusional and had convinced Thalia with his story. As for Diana and Yashie, their story seemed true enough, but they were hiding something. what that something was though, she could not determine, as she wasn't the best with figuring out people's motives without much background information.

Whisper could tell that this would be a very interesting group to work with. She slowly released her grip on Adrien, then tapped her on the shoulder and pointed to the question saying 'Who are you?' It seemed like a good time to figure out people's names, since the others had more or less introduced themselves. After waiting for a few seconds, she turned to the shirtless man and pointed to the same question, then to the one asking if he was infected.

"This man claims a man named Terry lived here with his family. If none of you know him... you probably killed him." Yashie didn't quite follow this logic, but he snarled softly, glaring daggers at the woman who had spoken. His grip tightened imperceptibly on his weapon and he took a step forward. But before he could open his mouth to respond in an angry fashion, she had said. "Filthy bandits. Do we shoot?" and this had made him angrier still. Who was this lady who chose to waltz in on them and appoint herself as judge, jury and executioner? He swore softly, which was very strange, for he was not one given to cursing. He took another step forward, his rage clearly visible on his face.

He had only half-listened to what Diana said, but he did catch her words, "So lower your gun, we're not a threat to either of you. I don't don't about these guys, but I sure as hell know I'm not." and he added to that with "If anyone's a threat, it's you and your trigger-happy ways and your whole attitude. Find someone else to kill and then rob, you bloodlusty -" Here he stopped and looked at his feet, quite surprised at himself, almost embarrassed. It had been years since he had made such an outburst, and that too, an outburst at a woman, a stranger. But then the times were tough and the strain was beginning to tell. He closed his eyes and began breathing slowly and methodically, calming himself.

He kept his eyes closed as the older man with the grizzled beard spoke "I am Solamon. Here to see Terry, the man with the family, a friend of mine.". He replied in a soft voice. "I am sorry .. we do not know Terry. But ... the owners of this shop were already dead and were being eaten when I arrived, which was when I had called him -" he pointed at the shirtless man "- for aid in ending the Undead and then sorting through what provisions and first aid equipment were in the store, and sharing them between us. He shook his head sadly, his face turning red from all the emotion, and said in an undertone. "I'm sorry, brother .... let's all go into the store? The corpses should be disposed of before they can reanimate, and you can see what flesh is left on their bones ... Sorry..."

Thus saying, he beckoned everyone indoors, studiously keeping his eyes off the blood-thirsty woman with the gun. Turning, he made as if to head indoors but saw two young women standing close to the Shirtless Man and one of whom was apparently attempting to communicate non-verbally with him. Yashie raised his eyebrows. "More survivors, then, I take it?" he asked in a loud voice, to no one in particular and waited for someone to reply. He was quite amazed at how all these living people had converged simultaneously, but perhaps banding would help them survive. Perhaps.

Aaah. That was truly satisfying, watching Yasahie's rage in response to what she had said. Truly barbaric, that man was, oh yes. Thalia had chosen correctly, the one to aim her bullet at. He'd never get her. No one here would get her. Of course not. That's just absurd. So she just grinned widely at Yashie, and fingered the trigger for a few seconds. Oh, how great it would feel to just pull and watch him scream. Yes, that's true happiness, the power to take a life. Fools, anyone who tried to-

Shut up. This isn't you. Ren wouldn't approve.

"Survival of the fittest. Emotions don't play into survival."

Don't be a monster. Please, be human. Just be human.

That was a small, feeble part of her mind, the part that had hidden deep in a corner, and was unseen for the months of the apocalypse. The humanitarian side had decided to show itself, and that one effort luckily balanced Thalia's psyche for the time being. She sighed and lowered her gun, nodding at Diana. No threat. Not a threat at all. Gabriel had not spoken, although Yashie had added his own slur of angry words after Diana procured that she wouldn't be a threat. No danger here. No reason to shoot. It's a human party, where humans were in the minority. Might as well band together, although Thalia desperately hoped the balance of power would stay on her and Solamon's side. Wouldn't that be great?

"That was rash of you, Yaaaashie." Thalia giggled her voice a cruel, high, mocking sneer. "Yashie. cute name, right?"

She had felt a little letdown when Solamon had pretty much told thm not to shoot. How was she supposed to prove that they were lying? The less mouths to feed, the better the chances of survival. That's how things go. How it's supposed to be, but no one else seemed to think so, so Thalia refrained from pointing that out. Solamon certainly would want a group to call his own, for sure. Solamon seemed concerned for his friend, Terry. A kind of hushing sadness was coming from the man, and Thalia felt pity for him. It's better to have no friends, in this situation. No friends means no grief if, or when they die. That's the truth.

Soloman spoke to Yashie and Diana, asking them both to show him to Terry. And his family. Solamon had gone into a kind of reluctant mourning that much Thalia could see. She then gave Yashie the smallest of smirks, and a tiny raised eyebrow. But when she turned to see the shirt-less man, she shrunk again. Terror, hoping he wouldn't take advantage of her. But she had to stay strong and hold her ground, to show Yashie that she wouldn't back down.

Di Franza Supermarket, Sacramento CA

Since the outbreak Irina fled west from Iowa. She knew the east, with cities like Boston and New York City would be swarming with animated corpses. She thought that the west would have a much better outcome. But of course on the west coast things are also difficult. She did manage to find the Di Franza Supermarket, though in suburban Sacramento. It was a store that didn't quite sell out its entire stock or had been looted. Since a lot of people on the west coast fled North to Canada or Washington, she had some time to herself. It's been exactly one week since the last time Irina made contact with another living, breathing human. She was driving down a side-road in Northern Nevada when she noticed a man who was in dire need of water. She had a surplus, so she offered him some and gave him a ride to the next gas station. She was hesitant at first though - sometimes a man may carry the virus and no one can know. But most people who were able to contract the virus were infected by now, so a lot of the survivors were immune, but that didn't stop deep flesh wounds and zombies carving out your intestines from killing you.

Irina was in the management office in the back of the supermarket, checking her supplies. She had about a week of tested, clean food that she could fire up. After she got enough food and possibly found some more gas, she would flee to Canada where she could hope for a possible safe zone. At her age, surviving on her own was a challenge. Although put all pessimism aside and she can handle herself. She peered out the window that she had boarded up, leaving a small hole for viewing. She was on a suburban boulevard. The main street in the neighborhood, so there was a fair amount of stores. Her Dodge vehicle was parked alongside the road, and ready for a quick escape. No zombies in sight though - but of course it was day. She noticed that during the day they are a bit more lethargic but still are a fairly common sight. As long as she had enough distance between them its possible to deal with the situation. Irina was situated and had nothing to do. She could do scavenging for more food in the supermarket but she didn't feel like causing any encounters.

Irina had given up on the search for her children. She was one of the few that had to accept they were probably not alive. With more then 99% of the population as zombies, Ms. Jaclyn herself was extremely lucky to not be infected. Although she did hope that her children were safe and alive. She had been in the Di Franza Supermarket for about a week now. She was planning on heading out and going North in the next few days, possibly tomorrow. She does not like to be burdened with staying in the same place.

Irina heard a thud. It had come from the door. She then looked out the window and saw several cars driving by. What the hell? she thought. She counted them - about 4. And they stopped in the supermarket's parking lot. She knew an encounter was soon, but she was determined to avoid it. She quickly moved a desk to block the door that adjoined the supermarket to the office area. Then she prepared her backpack ready to go. Her plan was to escape when they started to bang on the door. Then, she waited. She could hear fumbling in the main area - dropping of cans, spilling liquids, and then the footsteps grew louder. The man attempted to open the wooden door. It wasn't working.

"Who's in there!" the man yelled violently. It was the voice of reason. Then Irina opened the back door and dashed out to her vehicle, with the bag on shoulder and keys in hand.

Gabriel had been leaning against the wall of the supermarket, watching the tension pass. Perhaps it was simply because he wasn't truly involved in it, but he found it rather amusing that everyone was so willing to point guns at and blame each other. Of course, it's easy to laugh at something serious you're not a part of. His amusement stopped when Yashie grew very angry, though. He barely knew the man and yet it was clear he preferred to keep his composure. It surprised him to hear him speak like that. Sure, he'd yelled at Gabriel to take off his shirt, but this was...different. Fueled by anger, not worry.

The air was still chilly, but the wall he leaned against blocked some of the wind from cooling his skin. He was getting impatient; he wanted to enter the market and find a clean shirt already. He hadn't even had time to retrieve his backpack before all of this tension began. Gabriel had only stuck around to see if these survivors had lost their minds in the zombie reign. The two that had approached them with guns, Solamon and Thalia, definitely seemed crazy to him. He wouldn't feel comfortable working with them at all. It was pretty simple in Gabriel's mind. You either trust someone, or you don't. Those two gave him a bad feeling, no matter what their intentions were.

The two quiet ones he was still unsure about. They stood off to the side much like he did, choosing not to be a part of it. The fact that they were not so apt to jump into drama made him want to trust them, but then again, staying out of it was very uncharacteristic for Gabriel. Suddenly the girl with blue hair lifted a notebook with writing on it. He couldn't read it from this distance. He didn't want to shout and bring the attention to him, so he walked over to the two young women. He couldn't help but stand a little straighter and run his hand through his hair for a quick second. Zombieland or not, these were chicks, and he was a dude who liked chicks.

He read the sign, which had three questions on it. However, the girl only pointed to two of them. He guessed that meant he should only answer those two. He didn't bother to quiet his voice or anything, figuring that everyone was preoccupied in some guy named Terry and his family, and whatever Solamon had to do with him. "Gabriel," he felt no need to share his last name. How many other people named Gabriel weren't zombies right now? As far as he knew, he was the only one. "No, I'm not infected. I took off my bloody shirt as a precaution," he claimed the idea as his to look smarter, and hoped that they hadn't been around to see Yashie yelling at him to take it off. He noticed the redhead hadn't said anything yet, so he directed his next question at both of them: "What are your names?"

Gabriel was waiting for a response when Yashie suggested they all go inside. "More survivors, then, I take it?" Gabriel grinned. "Yeah, looks like it." He motioned for the two girls to follow them into the store, and then backtracked in his speech. "Wait. Neither of you are infected, right?" He asked, entering the store. His eyes were already searching for a new shirt. Though he knew he should ALWAYS be on the lookout for zombies, he felt pretty safe in a group this size. Besides, he still had his mallet in his hand just in case. Gabriel knew when he started packing food and water that he would have to run out and get his backpack though. He couldn't carry that much and still defend himself if he needed to.

Ethyn flailed aimlessly in a bout for attention.

Adrien was barely conscious of the conversation around her. After she'd deduced the fact the hadn't seen her, and along with the fact no one had a gun pointed at her she'd completely zoned out, staring at the sky and thinking of old times. She almost felt like just sleeping on the ground, her stomach growling impatiently for what little rations she'd found. But she wouldn't dare take out her food in front of these people. They'd most likely kill her make off with anything she had.So she stood, tired and weak, impatient and quiet, for the majority of the time. That is until she felt someone grip her shoulder and her her knees went weak at the sound of labored breathing. Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god oh god, she thought and she turned slowly and had to laugh again at the sight of the girl from the store behind her, looking as helpless as a lost child and then she turned back around.

"You can stand there," She said. "But please don't touch me. I can barely hold my own self up."
She watched curiously as the girl withdrew the same notebook from earlier and displayed a question: Who are you? She was peculiar, but Adrien was starting to like her. A lot. She still wondered why she wasn't talking though. Maybe over paranoid. She followed her finger to two of the others, one standing apathetically amidst the drama, one against the wall of the market. He took notice of them, and made his way over. Adrien felt like she was in her college days again, smiling as he straightened and fixed his hair. Even in the middle of an apocalypse guys were still guys. She pushed those same strands of hair back out of her face, remembering were before she would have brushed her hair and fixed her clothes and many other things, now she just wanted to and looked up to address him. He was a good half a foot taller than her, but she only felt slightly intimidated.

"Gabriel," he said, then explained. "No, I'm not infected. I took off my bloody shirt as a precaution, what's your names?"
One of the other group broke off then, and walked towards them and she suddenly tuned back into the conversation. It was the one called Yashie. "More survivors, then, I take it?" Gabriel replied and started entering the store with him and others. Adrien shook her head a little when he inquired on their status of infection and followed after them, nodding for the purple haired girl to follow.

"Adrien." She said, behind him. "My name's Adrien." She figured she'd play along until they led her their shelter where they could all rest in chaotic peace.

Whisper listened to Gabriel, Yashie, and finally Adrien speak. Yashie, the angry one with glasses. Diana, the second angry one. Thalia, the one who would likely blow her head off if she even dared to speak (which was not even a possibility for her). Solamon, the angry old man who would also try and blow her brains out. Adrien, the nice orange haired girl. Gabriel, the shirtless one who was kinda cute, but still very odd. She was confident now that she had figured out the basics of this strange little group.

She smiled a bit and walked behind Adrien as they followed Gabriel and Yashie. Whisper started writing on her notepad again, a few lines below her previous three questions. 'My name is Whisper. I am not infected.' She walked next to Adrien and showed her the paper, then ran a bit to catch up to Gabriel and show it to him as well. She didn't trust the others quite yet and besides, it wasn't like she may actually talk to them.

She looked around, hungry for any real food left in this store. Whisper was starving, making her thinner and paler then usual. But it was risky taking food. Maybe she could wait for them to see whether Terry whats-his-face was alive or not, then sneak away long enough to get some food or water. Was running water still available? Who knew! She started to fall back, not wanting to be in the center or front of the dysfunctional group.

Was it peraps paranoia or did Thalia look feral for that brief second that Solamon grasped?
Something was...unstable about her. He reminded Solamon of himself in his younger days, except for the obvious gender issue, and the less destructive weaponry that she had. (Fuck, it was like looking at a mirror!)

But she put her weapon down and Solamon could appreciate the gesture of peace; genuine or not. He lowered his weapon too but still held it to his side and walked in after Yashie who had at least apologized and explained himself. It was perhaps just then, that Solamon figured just how many people this group had now attracted, a purple haired one just only moments ago. Were they magnets, just drawing people in from whatever hole they came out of?

It was like a big happy family. A big happy dysfunctional family that carried around weapons and pointed guns at one another but a family none the less!

Inside the supermarket was a small body and of course Solamon walked towards it and looked down. There was the child with a hole in his head and he stank of a mixture of dead animals with cyanide.
"Hey Terry." He had said casually with an ominous tone, having something stuck in his throat before swallowing it down, and just continued to look down at the festering body. Terry was of course, the man of the family, as his dad was the old man of the family, and they'd laugh and laugh at that terrible joke. Perhaps Solamon should've told them his actual name, instead of what everyone likes to call him, "Carlos" but he knew it wouldn"t happen. It was easier like that, not having your friends that felt like family mispronounce your name, and ruin some moments. (They thought he was Italian) No, those memories were ingrained in his mind, where Terry, his dad, Frank, his mom, would talk with Carlos as if the world wasn't slowly dying outside and that is same-old buisness as usual.

Carlos: "So you get the mushrooms?"
Frank: "No! I tell you Carlos, we've been waiting weeks on end!"
Carlos: "Really?" And he'd rub his chin with wonder. "My supply never come! Months!" And a wild hand gesture twisted in the air and a face of disbelief.
Terry: "Maybe it's a holiday?"

Those days were over now. Their bodies were barely recongnizable, only distinguished by their size, faded hair colours, and clothes. Solamon didn't say anything, what could he say? Now all my friends are dead? Silent now, he pulled a shopping cart from not too far away to each of the bodies of his friends, three of the five bodies. He picked each one up with his own two hands and dumped them in the cart, save for some...heads, still violently snapping it's teeth. As if another gruesome reminder was needed.

Solamon wheeled the cart back out the supermarket, leaving Thalia to her own devices, until he reached a tree and stopped. It was only a couple of metres from the supermarket, the small square of earth within the gray city was small, grass slightly dead and littered with leaves of fall but it would do. With the pizza paddle down on the ground, he presed his foot down on the metal like one might do a shovel, and scooped a load of earth from the square and dumped it to the side.
He didn't understand the obsession of burning these bodies people had nowadays. Something about cleanliness but that's what water is for, so it doesn't hold up.
Besides Terry and his father, mother, weren't going to be another victim of mass paranoia. They deserved better. They didn't deserve to die. Or become monsters.

Yashie was quite irritated by the behavior of Thalia. Was she behaving that way on purpose? Or was she just stupid, or bloodthirsty? He didn't know, and he decided that he didn't particularly care. He decided that he would just ignore her completely. "That was rash of you, Yaaaashie. Yashie. cute name, right?" He resolutely looked everywhere but directly at her, suppressing the sudden urge to roll his eyes. He was not an eye-roller but some moments justified such actions, this being among the foremost. To take his mind off the woman, Yashie called out at Gabriel, perhaps in a voice a tad more irritated than he had intended, "You don't honestly expect a zombie to say it IS infected, do you? I mean, it's too much to even assume you'll get any chance to actually ask a zombie when it's standing so close to you as those two are. Your thinkjelly would be toothraped. Besides they are clearly human. Zombies have perhaps one-tenth the coordination that humans do. They don't walk, they toddle."

He stopped and scratched his chin, retrospectively feeling bad. He offered an apologetic smile and a shrug at Gabriel and the women with the hair in colors he was not sure was natural. Shaking his head slowly as if trying to get over the issue, he quickly turned away and headed directly into the store, tagging behind Salomon while beckoning wordlessly to Diana with his weapon. She didn't seem occupied at the minute and he needed the help. Somehow he trusted her. Maybe it was because she had shot the child-zombie. Yashie waited for Solamon to remove the remains of the (un)dead family and tried to be impassive and to show no emotion whatsoever, not even revulsion ... least of all revulsion. He didn't want to offend anyone, the living had enough on their plate already.

He watched Salomon wheel away the zombie-corpses and grabbed the only other cart in evidence. Into this he piled several packets of foods of a perishable nature and pushed it to where Diana stood. "Please, Diana, would you be kind enough as to wheel this out, see if anyone is hungry? I'm sure we all are and we should, of course, be eating these first. They will be of no use to anyone once they go bad." he requested, favoring her with a smile. Who was he to be giving out orders? Yet .. yet .. they were all occupied and someone had to deal with what had to be done. Crossing the aisle, he grabbed three bottles of cooking oil. Opening one, he sprayed a very small quantity over the small pool of blood (Solanum-infected) where the remains of Terry and his family had lain. Striking a match, he set it to the oil and let it ignite.

He watched it burn for a second and stepped out, running behind Solamon. "Pizza-peel brother!" he called loudly, and watched for a minute as Solamon began digging a hole. A small part of his mind noted the fact that Solamon's weapon was quite as suited to digging a hole for burial as his own Monk's spade and imagined the Monks digging a hole in the earth to inter wayside corpses. Shaking his head, he held out the bottles of oil at the grizzly-bearded man. "No offense ... but burying them won't destroy the virus ... it could pollute the earth ... maybe. Please could we cremate the departed?" He carefully stayed away from words such as 'burn', or 'corpses', 'zombies' and the like. No sense being rude. "I'm sure that Terry and his family would want the virus to be ... ah, gone from them. I am sure they would not want to come back as Undead" He knew then that he was being lame, very much so, but what could he do? The virus had to die, and the corpses had to burn. Who knew if they were dead zombies or dead humans pending reanimation? He held out the bottles for a minute, then set them down next to the cart.

Yashie headed back to the store, calling to Gabriel as he passed. "Mallet guy!" Somehow, he seemed to have acquired this strange habit of addressing the survivors by their choice of weapon. Funny, really. "Mallet guy! Please, could you help?" Quickly he outlined his desire to remove the foods in the supermarket, separate them based on their perishability and such. Also of his plan to remove the medicines, sort them, administer first aid to anyone who needed it, pointing out that the women, especially seemed quite hurt, all around. He was sure, he told Gabriel, that there was a small camping section which could provide bags, and shelving struts could make splints for broken bones, an eventualty he was planning to prepare for. "I am not sure who here is banded with who else here, and where each of the people here plan to go hence but .. I am sure that the supplies must be shared, distributed. Equal chances of survival. I trust you agree .... so ... please, could you help?" Thus, Yashie repeated his plea for aid, speaking loud enough that most everyone around could listen.

Action was what was needed, the dusk was nearing. And act he must, caring not for tiredness or for sickness. He waited for a response from any quarter.

Gabriel saw the subtle flicker of movement of Adrien shaking her head before giving him her name. Why was he suddenly so skeptical of the small motion? However small the nod was, it signified "no". Maybe he should leave it at that, but he found it hard to do so. Regardless, until she fell ill he would have no way of telling if she'd been infected.

It was then Whisper's turn, and she scribbled down another two short sentences on the notepad. "My name is Whisper. I am not infected." Gabriel smiled sincerely, unknowing that he was capable of it so soon. He hadn't been aware that the previous fight with the two zombies had already worn off of him. "Good to know. Welcome to the club."

He wasn't sure if Adrien and Whisper were still behind him, but he stopped at a shelf once he found it. It had rows of white shirts and black shirts. Gabriel decided to snag two of each in his side, just in case this were to ever happen again. He put on one of the black shirts. If something were to happen it would be harder to see blood on it, but he would blend better in the dark tonight. While he slung the other three shirts over the arm not handling the mallet, he heard Yashie call out to him. He was rather harsh in his words, something Gabriel still found to be... uncharacteristic for Yashie. It just wasn't like him. But then, maybe Yashie was a bit of a smartass, Gabriel thought. Regardless, he liked him enough to tolerate his speech on the infected.

"They're human for now, sure... a little honesty could warn us if they still will be by morning," he mumbled to himself, not caring much if Yashie heard him or not. Gabriel glanced over to him with a small smirk with his reply to his wise talk, but found Yashie giving him an apologetic smile. He gave him one short nod to acknowledge that it was okay.

Gabriel snagged a handtowel on the way out of the store and began to wipe the toxic blood off of his mallet, careful not to get any on his hands. He threw the extra shirts in his backpack and then brought it back inside to pack it with essentials for the next few days. In the one short moment he was alone again, he found himself wrapped up in his thoughts when he'd entered the back threshold of the store.

It was strange to Gabriel to see so many people when he'd seen so little over the past few months. But now that he thought about it, even if groups of survivors had been gathering around him during the day he wouldn't have known it. He was almost always asleep on the roofs of the buildings, and thought he would continue that way until the winter months. He wondered if the entire group would agree to travel to the same place, once the time came to move. And where would they reside tonight? Gabriel knew about an elementary school that had been unlocked before the disaster. Perhaps he could suggest they secure one of the classrooms for the night. However, he supposed he should probably decide if he even wants to stick with the group first. Because after all, that would mean sharing things like his hiding spots in this town.

"Mallet guy!" Mallet guy? What? Oh. "Yeah?" Gabriel called back, backpack still in hand. His mouth turned into a thin line when Yashie asked for his help. That meant he wouldn't get to return to the two attractive girls he was just speaking to, even if one of them didn't speak. Survival was the key to the game, he knew. Without the supplies needed, he'd never see those two or any person again through human eyes.

Without needing to be told, Gabriel went ahead and started pulling out the healthier perishable foods and putting them in the side of the cart farthest from the handle. He couldn't resist pulling a couple treats from the shelves, but shouldn't they enjoy them while they can? Give it a few more months to a year and they wouldn't be so enjoyable anymore. While he worked, he looked over at Yashie. "Hey, man, if we're all sticking together, we might should throw some ideas around about where we're staying tonight. I know we don't have to worry about it for a few more hours but you seem to know the most about survival in the outbreak...so I thought I'd toss the idea to you first, right? There's an elementary school not even a block from here. The rooms are unlocked and we could use the desks to block off the door." Gabriel tossed a few more items into the cart, not minding much about how they landed as long as they were on the "Perishable" side. "Or we could do what I've been doing and use the roof. Thoughts, bro?"

Diana resisted the urge to roll her eyes as the man who had the mallet tried to flirt with the two other girls. "Men" she said under her breath with a tsk. Even with the world coming to an end, they can't resist showing off. she thought. She set her pack down beside the door to the supermarket and walked inside. She could her many of them moving about gathering things, but she was at a loss on what to do. She was still reeling from having to kill one. She never liked killing them and she always felt this way afterward. It didn't help that she suffered from depression too. She found everyone's lack of sympathy for the Zack slightly repulsive and it showed on her face. Her lip curled as she looked at many of them in turn. They all seemed somewhat bloodthirsty with the exception of Solamon and perhaps Yashie.

She saw Solamon walk over to the corpse of a young child, probably the one she killed, and said something. She could tell that he was very saddened by it and thought that she should go help him. It was at that time that Yashie came over to her. "Please, Diana, would you be kind enough as to wheel this out, see if anyone is hungry? I'm sure we all are and we should, of course, be eating these first. They will be of no use to anyone once they go bad." he said. She looked to see what he was talking about and saw a cart full of perishable foods. "I don't think we should eat that much. It's most likely that our stomachs have grown accustomed to less food and it would just make us sick to eat all of that. Just leave it and find dehydrated food or something like it." She saw that much of the food was fruits and the like and added. "If we're lucky we'll find stuff like this along the way of wherever we're going any way." She picked up an apple and turned it to see a hole where a worm had chewed through it. "This stuff is rotten anyway." she said as she put the apple back in the cart and walked away.

She wanted to speak to Solamon. He seemed the most experienced out of all of them and she wanted to reassure him. She walked out and found him burying the family by a tree. She stood by him, but before she could speak Yashie came out again. He spoke a bit frantically to Solamon saying that he should burn them and just as quickly as he had come, he left. She knelt down and examined the ground by the makeshift grave. "You know, it doesn't hurt anything to bury them, as long as the brain has been destroyed. People prefer to burn them out of fear." she said to Solamon. She felt that this might be all the solace she could give him and left him with his grief.

She went back into the store and calmly pulled Yashie aside. "I would like to speak to everyone about the virus. You seem the most commanding here, so if you could tell them to gather somewhere, I'd appreciate it."

Adrien tuned out of the various conversation around her as the all entered the store, watching warily as one of people that'd confronted them earlier made off with bodies in a shopping cart. Where they hell is he going with things...she thought but then shrugged, tightening her blue leather jacket around herself. She did notice, however, Gabriel wary expression when she denied having being infected and shrugged that aside, too. He didn't tell her to leave, so why bother?

Now her mind was on food and supplies. She'd gotten a pretty good amount earlier, and no one had seemed to notice her bag. With any hope they never would, she'd snack off their share and then eat hers as a last result. Yeah. That is what she would do. She waltz over to a shelf and retrieved her own cart, dumping tons of sweets and snacks inside of it, along with stuff like bread and peanut butter and jelly. Stuff she'd eat tonight and tomorrow before it went bad. It'd taken her a while to leave home and unlike the other girl had mentioned, her stomach could handle this much food. A lot of it. Or at least it growled like it could. She held her thin hand to her even thinner stomach and grimaced.

"Hey, man, if we're all sticking together, we might should throw some ideas around about where we're staying tonight. I know we don't have to worry about it for a few more hours but you seem to know the most about survival in the outbreak...so I thought I'd toss the idea to you first, right?" Adrien turned around, suddenly intrigued with all the business. She'd only addressed them for a chance of shelter, now they were discussing it. "There's an elementary school not even a block from here. The rooms are unlocked and we could use the desks to block off the door." She couldn't help it. She jumped for joy and give a little 'yes!' from where she was, feeling like she'd just won first prize at a game. Images came to her mind, soft carpet, books, possible computers, her own little room... She reached up and pulled more snacks down in a hurry.

As she filled her personal cart with more things her noticed how dirty her usually pale skin was, caked with dirt and old scars from numerous fights, her favorite clothes drenched in filth. Adrien made her way to the personals section and picked up a bottle of mouthwash, toothpaste, a few towels, vanilla scented body-wash, and a brush. School meant gym which meant showers. "Wait..." She asked herself. "Do they have showers in elementary school?" Didn't matter. They still had sinks. Any type of water was good enough for her.

Adrien dumped the rest of her items into her cart and pushed it, happily, past Diana and Yashie, completely overlooking her serious expression. She'd found people that could actually work together, shelter, food, it was paradise. She made her way to Gabriel and smiled, maybe a little too brightly. "I don't like the roof idea. At all. If they don't want to go to the school then just take me. I'll be fine be myself..."

**

The third day of the Apocalypse

Stunned. Thalia was utterly stunned. People rushing past her, screaming, wailing, grabbing Taxis, cars, attacking each other. A helicopter flying overhead, telling all citizens of Montpelier to head east, to the coast, to the safe zones, yadda yadda. Thalia didn't really care. What she did care about was Ren. Why was everyone running? What's going on? Why isn't anyone going back to help her friend? Or were they more than best friends? Thalia had that question for a while now, but she tried to dismiss it. Especially after Ren had gone the bad way, gone brain dead. XTC. Joy Powder. Speed. They were once fun, but Thalia vowed to herself not to do it anymore. Ren wouldn't want that.

Don't think like that. Ren can't want anything, because she's dead. Her body's still there, yeah, but she's gone, can't you tell?

Her knife. She kept it with her for emergencies, when she missed Ren too much, missed her smile, her laughter, her body, missed everything. Why did it have to be Ren? Thalia was the smaller one, the skinnier, lanky one, while Ren was curvy in the right spots, beautiful, flawless. She was also incredibly smart, Thalia was only average. Ren even had nice tits, Thalia looked down at her own, and mumbled about being a washboard. A cup angst.

The knife. Her best friend, ever since Ren's accident. A little too much snuff. Right up, killed her brain, except that her body was a vegetable. Deep scars were lines up and down Thalia's wrists, covered by a grey sweater. Terrible scars. A cry for attention, but not in the way most people assume. A desperate plea to try and shock her friend, snap her out of it. Many times, Thalia even did it in front of Ren's lifeless body, but to no avail. Not even a blink. But Thalia knew that Ren was still in there, somewhere, lost. She'd make it out somehow. Someday.

A haggard looking man walked up to her. Snarled a little. Looking utterly dazed. Thalia stared at him, he had gotten her out of her funk.

"Zombie." Thalia muttered pointedly. She just stood there, accepting defeat. It was close now, incredibly close. Then, someone screamed at her. A familiar boy, who Thalia had seduced into returning a certain stolen plasma television. Marcus. He tackled her to the ground, and cleaved the zombie in two with a shovel.

"You okay?" He asked, and Thalia nodded meekly. "We gotta get to the Coast, babe."

"Not yet." Thalia protested. "I want to say goodbye to Ren."

**

The Elementary School. Hopefully it would be similar to the one she had gone to in Vermont, where she found Renée. Oh, man, she was still aching over her best friend. Thalia figured it would never start hurting. She would have to suffer for the memory of Ren.

"Yes." Thalia said in a washed-out voice. "I say we go. Yaaaashie."

But her taunt had no strength behind it this time, she just felt defeated, lost in memories.

Whisper sat down on the floor, quiet as ever and listening intently to the others' conversations. An elementary school? Was it clear or corpses and zombies? She quickly wrote the question down. It was then that Adrien replied to Gabriel's offer eagerly. Whisper couldn't help but let out a small laugh, barely audible but the first noise she had made so far.

Standing up, she ran swiftly over to Adrien. Making sure to hide the notepad from Gabriel, who now had a shirt on, she began writing at the very bottom of the page she was on. 'Somebody has a crush. :)' she writes out slowly, smiling a bit. Whisper couldn't blame her though, the dude was cute, not infected, was offering a place to sleep (more or less), and he seemed nice enough. It was interesting, how few guys there were here compared to girls. There was only Yashie, scary Solamon, and Gabriel. On the other hand there was Diana, Adrien, Thalia, and herself. It actually wasn't that big of a difference, but their ages seemed to vary greatly.

She then shifted to show Gabriel the notepad, pointing to the question about the school and then the statement she had previously stated. She bit her lip, hoping he wouldn't yell at her. She hated being yelled at.

Irina was just outside the supermarket door with her escape bag ready. The cars had pulled around the corner of the street. The supermarket was on a corner, so they were parked near the entrance. Irina Jaclyn had taken the side exit where her abandoned-looking SUV waited for her. She hoped the gang had not become suspicious of a boarded-up room. She quickly dashed over to her car - it was about a 20 yard distance. She unlocked the car and set in. But as she got in, she saw a boy and a girl; they looked as if they were in their late teens chasing after her with guns. They wore tattered clothes and looked famished. The boy lowered his shotgun and took a blast at the back of Irina's vehicle. She saw a bullet fly through the back window and barely missed her skull. The car finally turned on and she slammed the gas pedal. There was a long road going from here. She knew she was going to head north into Canada, but she would get her bearings once she got out of this pickle. The boy and girl were still running, but her car was accelerating too fast. She saw several more gang members come around the corner, but they all stopped realizing it was worthless. She sped down the road, and looked on both sides. Homes and small businesses. Months ago this was a vibrant functioning neighborhood; until the Solanum Virus had broke out. She never knew how the horrible disease got its name, but that never mattered. Deserted homes - many with smashed windows and missing doors dotted the avenue. Then she looked ahead, and there was something she had not seen in a while - Zombies.

It had been several days since she had seen one. She boarded herself up in the supermarket and rarely looked out. But there was a group of about 4 which seemed to be surrounding what looked like a dead body, but she could not tell because many of its parts were dismembered. Commonly zombies seemed to only take fascination in their feast. She watched from about twenty feet away as the zombies devoured the fresh corpse. They were on the center of the road, navigating around the group of monsters would be a feat. Running straight into them could crack her window and possibly have some bite marks in her flesh. She decided to wait it out. Irina checked the emergency bag she had prior to her escapade from the forbidden supermarket. She carried about 3 days of food, a few bottles of water, and the rest of her important supplies - including a map of North America. She retrieved the map and unfolded it. She was in Sacramento and to make it to Vancouver; where a supposed Canadian safe house was. She would have to travel about 900 miles. Luckily she was in the northern Sacramento suburbs, so it would be a bit less since navigating city roads generally took longer. She looked for other possible routes, however Vancouver seemed the best choice. On the radio a few weeks after the outbreak she tuned into a station that said vessels were bringing survivors from Vancouver to Vancouver Island where the western side of the island was not hit as bad by the virus. She checked the almanac she had in her bag. Vancouver Island had about a population of 760,000 in 2010. That was a lot less - so supposedly a lot safer. She looked back up at the zombies. Some were finishing up, so she had to formulate a plan. She would wait to see what they would do before continuing on. But the idea she had was set - make it to Vancouver and take a vessel to Vancouver Island. If that plan didn't work, it'd be hard to imagine anything else. Most safe houses by now had been overrun or never actually opened. Now the zombies stood up from the emaciated cadaver. They peered around and saw Irina. One noticed and began to slowly walk over. Irina did what she should of done - back up quickly. This taunted the zombie, and it proceeded quicker to her. The rest of them began to slowly follow. A group of five, she counted, was slowly making their way towards Irina Jaclyn. She kept a confident viewpoint and then decided it had to be done. She slightly rolled down a window and took her Glock from the glove compartment and then fired it at the zombie closest to her. It suffered a shoulder wound, but nothing fatal. This angered it and then it protruded a deep moan and began to walk faster at Irina. She took another shot and it hit the stomach. The zombie began to slow down but then raised back up. Irina was getting impatient and took two more shots. Blood spewed out of its oppressive wounds. It slowly fell to the ground, where it was about five feet in front of her vehicle. She put the gun back in and rose the window back up. A hand in the car could mean her death if she didn't act quickly enough. The zombie however was still not dead. But to solve the issue she backed it over with her wheel. The skull crunching screeched under her car and Irina flashed a malevolent grin. However, the job was not over. 4 zombies slowly walked their way over. She could not waste all her bullets on a situation that could be handled much more efficiently. She backed up about 20 feet while paying attention to all of her surroundings. She saw a school football field to the right and them composed a magnificent plan. She could lure the zombies and loop around so she could get back onto the main road and begin her trip to Vancouver.

She backed up into the yard which seemed about the size of a football field - plenty enough room to lure them away. As she backed up on the field though - she saw another group of zombies simply roaming the area. A much larger coterie of the deadly ones. About thirty of them, roaming the end zone of the football field. Her plan would not be as easy after all. These zombies however were not quite as chill. As soon as she dawned close enough they began to walk after her. She was trapped in between a small herd and a large orchestra of wailing creatures. But she did see an opening where she could barely, just barely escape and return to the road. She'd have to take a diagonal path to go around. She slammed the gas and then sprayed mud behind the zombies in front of her, which was purely unintentional, and then continued forward in the small opening. But as she was accelerating, one of the zombies approached the front of her car - but it was too late. She slammed into the zombie and it fell onto her windshield, its head causing a small crack in the right side of the windshield. That could of been much worse, she thought. She continued moving though and the zombie eventually rolled off the side, dead from the blunt power of glass. The squad of monstrosities was now behind her and they had almost given up hope. She returned onto the main road and drove fast down the road. She had to take a left at the end of the avenue onto Trumpet Road where she could get onto the freeway. Most freeways were empty; especially on the west coast. People in the west coast had mainly decided to stay put so there was not many abdicated automobiles. The road finally allowed her to take a right onto the freeway. This one led into Canada, one of the few international highways on the west coast. She could make it in a singular jaunt - but she knew she would probably have to stop for the night to stay somewhere. As she was driving she looked on the right side. A prison yard laid, with hundreds of inmates who were not afflicted with the horrible malady were strolling around the yard. Some began to attack each other. It was amazing how something so small - a single virus, bacteria, or whatever it is, can spread and cause the whole entire world, the entire 12,756 KM of the Earth to die.

Regardless, people have ambition. They will not stop until it is all over. Survivors will survive. The losers will die and the winners will create new societies and be safe once again.