Virginia

"Do you think we're safe here, Xander?" Lyra said as she looked out the second floor window. They had arrived in the manor last night. Their group was attacked by walkers. They only survived because they ran away. The door was open and they locked it behind them as they entered.

"I don't know, sis. I don't think anywhere is truly safe." Xander responded as he tried to open a can of fruit. In the back of his mind he was thinking about how they needed to find another group. The last one they had was held together by nothing more than common interest of surviving. They didn't care about each other. They didn't share food, and they sure as hell were not the nicest people on the earth. Xander killed a man in anger for trying to rape his sister. Nobody tried anything ever again.

"We need to find more people don't we?" Lyra walked over to her big brother. She took a seat next to him and laid her head on his shoulders. "I have told you lately that I'm glad your here with me. I wouldn't have made it this far with you."

"I wouldn't be sane right now, if you weren't here. I need you just as much as you need me. We're family, and I will never let anything bad happen to you." Xander finally got the damn can open. He handed the can to his sister and she started eating it.

"We don't have anymore peaches do we? I prefer peaches," She said in between bite of the canned fruit. After she was done, she and her brother sat in silence. After a few moments, Xander got up.

"I'm going to see if I can get to the roof from the attic. I want to make sure there's no walkers around. If you get in trouble fire a shot into the ground and I'll hear you. I won't be long." He made his way to the attic. There wasn't a way to the roof, but there was a bunch of windows in each direction.

It had seemed so obvious when he'd argued it with them as the howls of the Dead rang around St Jenny's. Thomas More was a stone's throw from the Pentagon, and a second stone's throw from the White House itself. It wasn't just modern folklore, surely both buildings were fortified with secret bunkers and arsenals of the best weaponry, not to mention trained personell, and Andrews Field Air Force Base was nearby. So the Church hierarchy must have nominated the cathedral as part of a joint plan with the government, and would be protected.

Every night they consulted Fr Joseph's map and tried to guess where the Dead would have congregated. But the further south they travelled, the further inland they were forced by hoards of the Dead. They'd become separated from Fr Arnold in the escape from Philadelphia; it had been a mistake to try and force a way through it. They'd cut cross-country to avoid the seething mass of the Dead that jammed Route 95, then stole a rowboat at Holtwood and let the Susquehannock River carry them into Chesapeake Bay. They made fast progress through the northern half of the bay, although they were reminded to be on their guard when their passage took them right above the head of one of the Dead, submerged in the bay's shallow waters.

Stopping for a night on Hart-Miller State Island, Fr Pat and Fr Joseph met a group of survivors, three men, two women and a little boy. After sharing their food and fire, both groups turned in. Fr Joseph knelt to pray; Fr Pat did not, but watched his friend and envied his unshaken faith. By the light of the embers of the fire, Fr Pat saw two of the men creeping up behind Fr Joseph. Shouting out a warning, he rolled onto his back to look behind him, which is why the blow from the man behind him only glanced across his temple, rather than break his skull. The scream, crack and gurgle from behind him told him Fr Joseph had not been so lucky. Fr Pat flailed out blindly with his club and stumbled to the rowboat and pushed out noisily. He heard the crack of a gunshot, but no more; his assailants had only wanted their food, most of which he'd left behind, along with the map.

Fr Pat drifted down the bay for much of the next day, mooring at Chesapeake Beach after passing below the Bay Bridge, and making camp. Recalling Fr Joseph's map, he set off northwest the next morning, keeping an eye out for humans as much as for the Dead. His heart lifted when he came to the eastern end of Pennsylvania Avenue - he was on the road to the White House and he'd seen just two of the Dead! But his brief spark of optimism waned as he followed the road west - he had to strike down four of the Dead, all in military uniform, and his old shoulders were aching. Then he caught sight of Andrews Field, and he sank to his knees. The military base milled with thousands of the dead. He knew then that all of Washington had been over-run - there was nothing left alive further into the city to attract this huge hoard away from where they had died.

Wiping tears from his eyes, Fr Pat headed south, through fields and nature parks so untouched he could almost forget the Dead had risen, until he came to the Potomac. The Harry Nice Bridge was jammed, and Fr Pat could see the Dead wandering aimlessly between the cars, even some Dead trapped inside them. Gritting his teeth, Fr Pat climbed onto the struts of the bridge below road level and inched his way across its kilometre-long span. Occasionally one of the Dead would spot him and throw itself off the bridge at him, passing him with a growl and landing with a splash into the Potomac. Night was falling and every muscle and joint in Fr Pat's old body was aching, by the time he finished his climb and set foot in Virginia.

Logan looked through his binoculars and then put them away in his side pouch. "There are a few up ahead, but I also see a mansion. We should head there. I bet they have a lot of resources." He told her as they both started climbing down a tree they had scaled to get a better view. Rena was the first to make it to the bottom, where she checked in both directions before giving him the go ahead. Logan quickly made his way down the tree and they headed north, towards the mansion.

The building was about a mile away, which was just a good walk compared to what they had been through. Side by side, they walked, glancing in every direction as they made their way closer to what they hoped was safety. "You know, it was like this in Iraq." Logan began, making Rena roll her eyes. "I know, you have told me a hundred times." She mumbled, still glancing in every direction. Her blue eyes moved onto her brother for a moment. He had seen so many horrors in his short life. He was only 5 years older than her but acted like a veteran of an ancient war, something that happened long ago but never forgotten. Something that you are reminded no matter what you look at or think of.

"Watch out!"

Logan jerked her to the side, making her fall onto the ground. Quickly, she grabbed her gun and jumped to her feet. There were walkers at every angle. She glanced over her shoulder to see Walkers coming closer to Logan, who she had her back against now. Her fingers tightened on the gun as she popped off two rounds for a Walker. Logan knocked off the two on his side, but Rena froze as she gazed at the child before her. The girl was missing half of the skin on her face, especially around her mouth. Her eyes were white, empty of any thought or feeling. However, she was still a little girl. Just a child....

Suddenly, the child lunged at her. She jumped but it was not enough. However, Logan grabbed Rena and pulled her back from the creature. He raised his gun however the girl, being young and quick, bit his wrist. "LOGAN!" Rena screamed as he knocked the child down and put three rounds into her head.

Rena sobbed as she watched her brother unload all the supplies he had gathered. "I can give you what food I have left and all the ammo I have left. Remember-" He paused as he pulled out the map that had where they had landed the helicopter. "-We have more ammo and food in the helicopter."

Barely an hour had passed before he started to get short on breath. "We should only be a few clicks from that mansion." He informed her as he placed his gun into her hand. "Shoot for the head....but you know that...." He paused while gazing at the ground. "Live strong." He mumbled as he placed his head to the butt of the barrel. "And shoot to kill!" He yelled his last words before Rena closed her eyes and pulled the trigger.

Still sobbing, despite trying not to, Rena made her way to the mansion. Slowly, she peaked out from the trees and around the mansion. There was no sign of Walkers. Quickly, she ran as fast as she could to the door, which quickly knocked on three times before trying to open the door.

Tia crouched in the drain that ran under the jammed highway above her, drew her knees into her giant hoodie and pulled the drawstring tight until only one eye peeped out. Shots, yells and the freaks' groans echoed in the tunnel from above.

They'd been chasing her for three days now. There was no way she could have fought them. Every night she hoped against hope that she'd shaken them off her tail, but each day, no matter how cautious she was, they were back on her trail by midday. She had no time for foraging. She'd run out of food two days ago, and carried an empty water bottle all day yesterday. Now she sucked greedily on a sleeve she'd dipped in the stale water puddled in the drain. She'd finally abandoned that water bottle on the road this morning to make sure they stayed on her trail. It was time for desperate measures.

She'd met the hunters on the road between Strasburg and Harrisonburg, near a village called Woodstock. They'd laughed, but not unkindly, when she'd asked if it was where the hippy festival was held. They had a deer on the back of their pick-up, and saw Tia eyeing it hungrily. 'C'mon, little one,' the one with the green bandana round his neck had said. 'We'll feed ya some.' She'd hopped up on the back between Green Bandana and the deer. About 20 miles down the road, they took a right. Green Bandana explained they were holed up by the Brandywine in the George Washington national forest. 'Good fishing there, good hunting too, and in Shenandoah,' he'd said. Tia didn't pay much attention in geography class, but she'd seen the signs for both George Washington and Shenandoah while on the road.

They'd entered forest about seven miles after their right turn, and Green Bandana banged on the cab with his fist and unwrapping his neckcloth. 'Good a time as any,' said the driver, coming round the side of the truck. Tia's head was jerked backwards as Green Bandana wrapped his neckcloth round her throat, muffling any screams. He grabbed Tia's thin left arm with his spare hand, and the driver grabbed her right arm and, at the third attempt, her kicking right leg. The passenger jumped up on the bed of the truck and began to unbuckle his belt, a greasy grin spreading across his lips. 'Who's Craig's pretty girl?' he mumbled. He knelt and grabbed Tia's left thigh, digging his fingers into her flesh.

Tia had nearly passed out from lack of oxygen when she heard the driver's scream, and suddenly her arms and legs were free. Craig was fumbling around his knees for his gunbelt, and Green Bandana was kneeling over her, already firing a pistol at the freaks clung to the driver's back. She gulped air down into her tortured lungs and scooted out from under Green Bandana, passed Craig, and jumped down onto the dirt track, running for her life. It wasn't until she climbed a tree to sleep in for the night that she discovered the green bandana, stuck to her neck with dried blood.

DeShaun's university was near Harrisonburg, she knew, but she didn't dare stay on the main roads once she'd realised the two men were on her tail. By now, she was hopelessly lost, and running out of energy. An hour ago, she'd spotted Green Bandana and Craig cresting a hill behind her. She'd also spotted the mansion on a distant hill, and the traffic jam on the raised road ahead. Traffic jams meant loads of freaks. She dropped her water bottle in the road, knowing the hunters would see it, and headed straight for the traffic jam. By now, the hunters were 500 metres behind her.

Muscles cramping with dehydration, Tia broke into a run. She heard one of the men cry out 'Aw, come on now, Tia'. The first freak patrolling the traffic jam raised its head and began to moan. Tia dodged past it and ran on, hoping to get as many freaks between her and the hunters before she found a car to hide underneath. Two more turned and began shuffling after her. Tia jumped up on the hood of a car that had T-boned another, and slid across it, stumbling as she landed on a rotting, headless torso. She gagged, raised herself up from bloodied knees, and risked a look behind her. About 10 freaks now stood between her and the hunters. She turned and crashed straight into a freak. One shattered eyesocket dripped jelly down its grey cheek, and jagged teeth snapped inches from her forehead. Tia gagged again at the stench from its mouth and rolled away from it before it could close its arms. Her pulse thundered in her ears and her vision blurred momentarily. Blindly, she stepped off the road and into the ditch that ran alongside it. A shot rang out behind her, bringing her to her senses again, and she spotted the tunnel. Fighting to keep her breath level, Tia hauled herself into the ditch and hid.

Standing over the gurney Kieran kept his gaze intent as he tore open the packaging for a cold compress in his latex gloved hands. His shoulders swayed with the slight shake of the ambulance setting off, the muted sound of the sirens firing up above him. ‘My.. My bones feel sore...’ rising his blue eyes Kieran would offer the sickly pale old woman a soft smile ‘Don’t worry Miss we’ll be there soon.’ Pressing the compress against her forehead he wiped away the dried blood from what seemed to be a fall wound ‘That’s a lovely accent... where are you from young man?’ Keeping his attention on the cut Kieran flashed another soft smile ‘England’ he replied preparing a bandage. ‘I.. I spent time... with an Englishman once.. during the war...’ the old woman trailed off panting. Narrowing his eyes Kieran noticed something in the woman’s hairline, pressing a hand down gently on her hair his eyes widen at the sight of a decayed tooth. This wasn't a fall wound; it was a bite of some sort. Darting his eyes down Kieran’s gaze was met with that of vibrant red and green angry eyes as the woman lurched forward to grab him.

Kieran muffled a yelp as he awoke from his nightmare.

Turning her head fully to him Becky kept a hand on the wheel ‘You alright Kay?’ Leaning forward in the passenger seat Kieran rubbed a hand flat over one of his tired eyes, looking down at his Glock on the dashboard ‘Yeah just another bad one’ he rasped nodding softly.

Travelling in Caleb’s 1972 Dodge pickup they had previously found all they would at Becky’s uncle’s home the day before. Retrieving her 700 rifle and knife she was mortified to see what was once her uncle dragging himself around aimlessly in the backyard, both eyes damaged beyond any sight even for a biter. Seeing that she couldn't bring herself to shoot him Kieran guided her away from the house suggesting they take his truck. By that time it was getting dark, finding a remote convenience store a few miles down the road they barricaded themselves in and held up for the night. It was there Kieran found his Glock.

Kieran failed to get much sleep at the store during the night, Becky gathered that by his nightmare. ‘Are they all in the back of an ambulance?’ she asked in a soft tone. ‘Most of the time, when it isn't Chloe’ he replied, his eyes drifting off out of the window at the trees passing by. Extending her free hand to rest on his shoulder Becky stroked her thumb against his shirt sleeve trying to offer some sense of comfort ‘Sorry Kieran.’ Turning his gaze back to her Kieran smiled softly, placing his hand over hers ‘We’ve all suffered Becky’ his brow knotting slightly with his own words. All Becky did was nod understandably in response, her gaze distracted as she looked out the windscreen ‘Shit’ she sighed.

The road ahead was blocked by cars, corpses littered around them. Dropping her hand from Kieran’s Becky would drop down a gear, slowing the truck to a halt on the side of the road. Killing the engine both of them would stare out at the carnage on the road obstructing their path ‘Do you think there’s any of them out there?’ Kieran asked pulling his Glock from the dashboard. ‘Maybe. I’ll go make a path while you cover me’ Becky replied as she opened the door ‘No wait, you've got that rifle. Why don’t you stay here and keep me covered while I do it?’ Kieran suggested. Looking out at the wreckage Becky nods ‘That works. Once you’re sure it’s clear let me know ‘cause I heard an engine noise some miles back I didn’t like, should probably pop the hood and check.’

Swinging both doors open they set about their tasks. Becky walked to the flat bed of the truck to pull out her Remington 700, checking chamber and snapping the bolt into place. Kieran with his Glock in one hand and crowbar in the other approached the wreckage cautiously, his eyes scanned for any possible movement. Leaning against the hood Becky also kept a watchful eye, narrowing her eyes at a large manor in the distance ahead. Having checked around the wrecked cars Kieran found no threat, deciding that two t-boned cars were the ones blocking the way. Looking to Becky he called out ‘No-one’s here’ to which she raised a thumb, slinging her rifle over her shoulders and leaning into the now open hood.

(( Same location as Tia some time after hunters left, agreed OOCly in PMs ))

The forests of Virginia had become a bit of the comfort of sorts since seeing nothing but plains in his travels since the walkers rose, however sitting on the edge of river often gave the feeling of peace in the contant struggle to survive in this world. Minya hid his machete on the river's edge, fresh blood washing off of it from a recent killing. Not of a walker, but of another infected survivor. Bitten by a lonely walker that had crossed their path. Sure, he was going to steal his things for his own survival in these desprate times, it was only mercy to kill him before he rose again in death.

He sat watching the water go by, fish swimming like nothing was wrong in the world. "May you be well in the realm of Hades. Charon will be your way in." He muttered to himself as he stood, walking over the body and pulling his rifle off his back. He knew a slit neck would not be enough to keep him down. "Your body will not rise again in this world." He said, firing a single round into his head. Gore splattered up and around his feet, but it was nessicary to keep the dead down. He sighed. Human contact was rare now a days, it was either walkers or humans that only wanted his stuff and him dead. Truly good people, in his mind, were either dead or rare.

He grabbed his blade from the river and moved on from the bank. The forest was not what he was used to, but it provided hunting grounds and underbrush to hide if hunters or walkers where in the area. It was only a matter of time before he found someplace to sleep as soundly as he could. Until then, the cover of trees will have to do.

Tia was drifting in and out of consciousness. She heard shots, yells and groans... then nothing... then silence bar the wind rustling the hedges next to the road... then nothing... then an engine idling. Tia blinked her eyes, shook her throbbing head. People. She heard two doors open and gently close, and the distinct sound of a rifle bolt action. She fought her instinct to stay hidden. She should at least try and get a look at this new threat.

She inched out of the drain and crouched, her head level with the blacktop. Despite her blurring vision, she saw a pair of workboots approaching the T-boned cars she'd hurdled earlier. She inched further into cover as a man with dark red hair crept into view, holding a handgun and an iron bar. That meant two men at least, this one and the one with the rifle. Could be trouble.

Just as Tia was about to slink back to her hiding places, the man turned and called back to his buddy 'No-one's here'. He had a blue and yellow patch on his back. Unable to focus properly, she couldn't make it out, but it looked like he was some kind of state responder. He moved back towards his vehicle and Tia, stomach lurching, dragged herself up onto the road for a better look. Crouching behind a sleek, shiny new Prius, its interior spattered with blood and gore, she saw the new arrivals' pick-up. A woman with long dark hair had her head under the open hood. She looked nearly as tall as her companion, and had her rifle slung on her back.

Tia made a quick calculation. There was a big house nearby which looked safe, but there was something wrong with her, probably exhaustion, and she didn't know if she'd make it alone. Besides, there might be freaks there too. This couple might be dangerous, there was no knowing, but a man and a woman together was a lot less dangerous than two men. She drew her gun and, knees buckling, lent on the Prius to pull herself into a stand. The heavy revolver dragged her right shoulder down; there was no way she could have lifted it to fire, so she dropped it with a clatter.

'Hey,' she called, parched throat muffling her voice. 'Hey, over here,' she tried again. Her vision blurred red, and then came back. Her pulse roared in her ears. 'Hey, I'm Tia. There's a house over there looks safe. I ain't been bit, don't shoot me.' With that, all the sound in the world went out, Tia slammed face first into the hood of the Prius and slid down into a tangle of thin limbs on the road.

Katie Halesworth

Moving at a pace more brisk than usual, for fear of the coming night, Katie trotted through the thinning woods, cross bow in hand. The dark may not be too close, but she still had to find some where to stay for the night. She didn't have to glance to her side to acknowledge the fact that Nick, her german shepherd, was right next to her. Along with hearing a pitter patter of his feet hitting the dead foliage, his presence had become something she could sense. As the brush thinned further, Katie slowed to a short-stepped walk, pausing next to a tree, her back against it, she reaching into her pocket and pulled out a map. It was of the Southeast. Tracing a path with her finger, she marked a segment about half a centimeter long, before tucking it back into her pocket, and glancing around. The coast seemed clear. "Good boy, she muttered, petting the top of Nick's head affectionately, before beginning to walk again, though on the edge of the woods, looking for signs of life... or undead life.

She had been on the move since when the outbreak began, walking during the day, hiding out and sleeping at night. So far, she'd only stayed in the same place more than once a few times, but after doing it, she regretted it. Hiding out in one place was so easy, and so comforting. Knowing that you'll see something approaching before it comes, and that you can just stay in place and they can't get you. But that's why she couldn't do it again. Katie didn't want to get used to something so sweet in a world that's so horrible. The only thing that kept her sane and okay had been Nick, but the fact that he was the only thing she could talk to might prove she wasn't sane. What's that? Her reminiscing was interrupted by a building coming into her vision, a large mansion, and though there weren't signs of life on the outside, there were chances there were some on the inside.

Katie couldn't help the excitement that sparked in her mind and eyes, the thought of being in the presence of another human too incredible to consider the wrongs that could happen, and were likely to happen. She started towards it, using the cover of the land to approach it before anyone inside could see her. Just before she was ready to start towards the building, to go to the door, she saw a figure dart forward, and knock on the door. Pulling up her crowbow, and looking through the scope, not planning on shooting the girl, but rather defending her if something bad was inside, slowly walking closer though, because if there were people inside, she would want in too. Pausing behind, but close enough that if the girl at the door turned around she would see her, Katie waited.

The familiar smell of grease and gasoline was comforting in Becky nostrils as she glanced around the engine for any loose or damaged components, arching an eyebrow she noticed the cam belt was fraying and wasn't looking too great. This could be a problem, cam belts can be interchangeable and easy to find but if they break en-route that puts the vehicle out of action. Last thing she wanted if biters were around. Running her fingers along the damage Rebecca examined around the belt sighing softly to herself, it wouldn't last twenty miles.

Looking under the two cars Kieran checked for any biters that might have gotten wedged in between, he'd seen it before and it became a real pain in the arse when trying to move wrecks. Happy the underneath was clear he stepped over to the side of the hatchback, the car that had smashed into the side of a saloon. Pressing a shoulder against the framework Kieran grunted as he slowly moved the city car backwards, making room between them.

Becky had repositioned the belt slightly keeping the frayed edge a little clear from the cams, pondering for a moment she wasn’t convinced that would affect its durability much. It was then she heard a metallic clatter in the distance, Kieran couldn’t be ditching that gun already surely. Standing up from the hood Becky looked out watching Kieran move the city car, the young girl’s first word was lost of them but the second greeting rang loud and clear.

Looking over at the Prius Kieran raised his gun half way, slowing at the sight of the young and seemingly unarmed girl. Becky wasted no time in slinging her rifle into her hands and aiming intently down the iron sights ‘Watch her Kay!’ she barked out. Kieran could see the girl was in a bad state as she spoke, silently relieved that she wasn’t a biter. Before he had the chance to reply Tia’s head virtually bounced off the hood as she collapsed to the floor.

Moving swiftly over to Tia’s side Kieran scanned his eyes over her, pressing two fingers against her neck and checking his wristwatch ‘What the hell are you doing!?’ Becky called out, her rifle still up. ‘She’s dehydrated. She needs fluids.’ He replied. Noticing the large revolver on the floor near the girl Becky’s eyes widen as a walker rose from the blacktop behind the now cleared accident.

‘Stay down!’ Becky shouted as she steadied her rifle, standing upright the biter gargled blood at Kieran before the echoing thud of Becky’s rifle splattered half the man’s head sending him crashing hard to the ground. Based on her pulse, skin colour and temperature it didn’t take long for Kieran to double-check it was severe dehydration, just to be sure. The sound of Becky reloading her bolt action rang out high pitched as her spent cartridge bounced to the ground ‘We need to go!’ she called out dropping another biter on the road behind him.

Kieran couldn’t leave Tia there; he knew that wasn’t what Becky would have wanted either, even if she was more concerned for their own skin in that very moment. Digging his Glock into his pocket Kieran slung Tia’s limp form over his shoulder in a firearm’s carry. Snatching up his crowbar and the revolver in his free hand he didn’t hesitate to move quickly towards the truck. Grunting under the strain of the young girl’s form as he dashed to the vehicle, he wasn’t exactly ripped after all.

Briefly darting her eyes to Kieran and the girl Becky stepped backwards to the driver’s door firing a shot as yet another biter came into view behind a wreck. Opening the flat bed Kieran dropped Tia into the back before stepping up into the bed and sitting beside her unconscious body ‘She said something about a house up ahead.’ Sitting down into the cab Becky replied ‘There’s a manor up the hill, we’ll head there’ slamming the door shut and firing up the engine.

Moving Becky’s duffel bag to act as a pillow for Tia Kieran pulled his first aid kit out of his backpack checking it for any supplements while Becky drove clear of the wrecks, no luck. Grunting disapprovingly Kieran opted for his water bottle, tilting small amounts into the girl’s open mouth. It wouldn’t revive her but it would keep her stable till they got to the manor, all Kieran needed was some typical sugar and salt to make an improvised electrolyte replacement mixture.

Minya wandered through the forest, finding himself back at the highway. 'Great...Has to lead somewhere though.' He thought to himself as he started his way on the highway. Cars everywhere. Man made things that annoyed him when he looked back on it. Now they littered the landscape like bounders on a rocky hillside. Some looked new as if they had been just bought the day the walkers rose. Others looked as if they where on the end of their line. It felt like he was out place, unwelcome among the rubble. Several walkers still wandered the highway. The same that he had lured there the night before. Slow ones when scattered aren't they.

He hit one of the cars beside them and walked back into the forest, watching as they turned around toward the noise and shambled toward it while he made an easy escape back on to the highway once it was all clear. "Bet they had a good snack while out. But I can't have them in the way." He said as he walked along the path.

It wasn't long until he spied a manor in the distance, people as well. Again, he felt out of place. Wondering wither or not these people wish ill will or to take his means of survival. They couldn't learn that he was there. However, curiousity did spark somewhere inside him. What kind of people where they? Did they know each other or was the manor something that everyone had just happened upon? He purred to himself in intrest as he slipped into the woods and layed low to watch them. If these were the rare good people that Apollo's plague had nearly whipped out.

Xander was heard the comotion in the woods. As he got to the window he saw a girl running towards the manor. "Shit, she's a live one. They don't run." He started running down the stairs trying to catch her. Walkers were attracted by sound, everybody should know that. There were going to be here soon. As he passed his sister she looked at him from the window.

"We're going to help her right?" Lyra said grabbing her gun from waist band. Xander only nodded. He turned to her and motioned her to stay behind him. He heard the last of the knocks and rushed to the door. A million thoughts were running through his mind at once. They were mainly what ifs but, those didn't matter. Being a good person mattered. He opened the door and sternly said, "In the house, NOW." He watched her enter and looked around. He caught a shine in the distance. He gulped and jumped in the door so he wouldn't get hit.

*Meanwhile*

The girl was the first to enter, Lyra raised her gun with her finger on the side of the trigger guard. She hadn't taken a human life yet, and she wouldn't if Xander had anything to say about it. "D-don't move. We don't want any trouble." As she said that Xander entered. He didn't look happy.

"I took a chance. Now, time to see if it's paid off. Who's in the woods with the scope. Your friends? Were you going kill us and take our stuff?" Xander said angrily. He didn't want his sister getting hurt. Xander drew his gun preparing for the worst. He saw his sister gulp as she clicked off the safety. Her finger was still on the side of the trigger guard. So, she wouldn't fire the gun by mistake.

Rena stood at the door, tears still running down her cheeks as she glanced behind her and to each side. She didn't see any walkers, but her gun was still in hand. "Please, somebody...." she whispered as she moved her blue eyes onto the door. As if a God was answering her prayers, the door opened. The man gave her a stern look and commanded her to get inside. She quickly did so and nodded.

Inside the mansion, she stopped only a few steps inside and nearly burst into tears again, how ever she choked them back. She took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling.
"D-don't move. We don't want any trouble."
She froze all movement except looking at the woman. She looked around the same age as the woman before her, who had the gun on her. "I-" she paused and looked at the ground. "I don't want any trouble. Just a place to stay." She mumbled before slowly setting down her gun, with one hand in the air to show she was surrendering. As she stood back up, with her arms raised in surrender still, she wiped under her eyes with one hand before moving it back. It did nothing but smear even more of her makeup that had started to slightly run from all her tears.

"I took a chance. Now, time to see if it's paid off. Who's in the woods with the scope. Your friends? Were you going kill us and take our stuff?"
Please, she whispered before trying to raise her voice just enough so she thought they could hear. "I came by helicopter from Texas. It was my brother and myself. However...." she choked up and tears slowly rolled down her cheeks. "We were attacked less than a mile from here and he didn't make it. We didn't know anyone was here." She finished in a sorrowful tone. "I don't know anyone else. I didn't know I was being fallowed. Its just me and Coon." She continued, moving her eyes back and forth from the pair. "If anything, let us stay for the night and we can leave in the morning if you wish. We wont take anything and we have food." She concluded before she finally stopped. She felt like she had been rambling. She was doing just that. Her nerves were shot and she needed a cigarette, more than ever. "One night...." she whispered, in almost a sob as her mind kept going back to her brother in the woods.

If on was to look at her, they would see blood on her neck and on her shoulder. It was a black with a simple red tint that hinted at what it was. Her hoodie once white, however now it was tainted with dirt and blood from killing walkers. In the center was a bright pink Hello Kitty head, which too was tainted. Her blue jeans were also dirty from her journey. She looked a mess. Her blue eyes were blood shot, her makeup was smeared, and her clothes were dirty. She looked like she had been through hell, but of coarse, thats because she had. Everyone was going through hell.

Katie Halesworth

Tension built up in her muscles as the door opened, a head poking out before the girl was pulled in. Shit she thought, realizing she may have just lost her opportunity by scaring away her only chance of survival. Katie glanced around, and though she saw no walkers she knew that the noise of movement in comparison to the dull buzz that usually filled the world was enough to attract zombies. Nick was looking up at her, his tongue out in a light pant. He was a rather large dog, probably bigger than the average german shep, but that was to her advantage. He made the perfect companion.

Using quick thinking, she tapped her leg to draw his attention, and sprinted to the door, half crouched so her body blended slightly with the land, but still moving fast. Nick was right next to her, the dogs constant devotion to protecting her pushing a small smile onto her face, as she paused at the door, trying the knob, before knocking loud enough for the inside to hear, but trying not to cause attention. Katie stood perpendicularly to the door, keeping a watch for any approaching walkers, and though she saw some movement in the thinning of the woods, she let it be. If it was a concern, it would come to her, but keeping watch was all she could do as she waited what seemed like endless seconds for the door to be opened so she could be moved to more of a safety place.

He heard the noise long before he crested a hill and caught sight of it. Even so, nothing, not even the rattle of automatic gunfire and the unending, grating howls of the Dead, could have painted the picture that confronted Fr Pat across the meandering Rappahannock River. Against the kilometres of chain-link fence that enclosed the vast training grounds of Fort AP Hill, a thousands-strong herd of the Dead churned and moaned, trying to reach the soldiers behind, who were methodically spraying machinegun fire at head height. No wonder he hadn't encountered any of the Dead since the Harry Nice Bridge; they were all here.

Dumbfounded by the scale of the hoard, Fr Pat watched as the slain bodies piled up in front of the fence. The creatures mindlessly trod other Dead into the ground, grabbing higher and higher at the chain-link fence as the bodies began to form a ramp. Commanding officers behind the fence shouted contradictory orders at their men: Aim higher, maintain fire at head-height level. At several points, the ramps reached the top of the fence, and the Dead began falling into the enclosure. About a kilometre to the west, a section of the fence simply caved in under the weight of bodies, and the Dead flooded in, pushed in by the surge behind them and packed thick enough to simply trample over the soldiers. Across the front line, panic ensued. Some soldiers fled, throwing down their weapons. Others attempted to stand their ground and were overwhelmed.

Fr Pat only snapped out of his horrified reverie when the entire herd had entered the military base. He would have to find another way round; the bridge at Port Royal was too close to Fort AP Hill. He closed the visor on his motorcycle helmet, shouldered his club, and set off south-east down the banks of the Rappahannock, looking for a shallow spot to ford.

About ten kilometres along the bank, where the river made a sharp U-bend, Fr Pat found a row boat and crossed the slow current leisurely. After disembarking, he sat on the little spit of land, letting his trousers dry in the sun and the aches subside in his back. A couple of birds sang in nearby trees - always a good sign that the Dead were far away - and Fr Pat could scarcely reconcile the serenity of this moment with the monstrosity he had witnessed at Fort AP Hill. Even from a mile away, he had heard the dying soldiers' screams, smelt the smoke from their gunfire, a sharp, burnt smell that cut through the rancid, rotting scent of the Dead. The worst thing had been the cacophany of groans from the herd. In individual cases, that sound was a terrifying alert that shocked every nerve, set the pulse racing. But collectively, and prolonged, as it had been at the chain-link perimeter, it sounded like the collected souls of centuries of damnation were calling out from Hell. For the first time since he had escaped St Jenny's, Fr Pat took his crucifix in his hands and knelt. But nothing came to drown out the memory of that call of the damned, nothing but two birds singing.

Xander sighed as the girl talked. She just lost her brother, something he didn't want Lyra to go through. His head was screaming that he shouldn't trust her but, his heart was saying let her stay. He could overpower her if it came to it. He nodded his head and Lyra clicked on her safety and lowered her gun. There wasn't going to be any bloodshed if Xander had anything to do about it. "Alright you have your night. You can take one of the rooms upstairs." He sighed and continued, "I'm sorry that you lost your sibling. I don't want that for my sister. Lyra take her upstairs and make sure she's alright."

Lyra nodded, she was glad that he decided not to kick her out, or worse kill her. She never killed a human, Xander was always there to take care of it. "Come on sweetie, lets go get you cleaned up," she picked up the gun and handed it to the girl. Then she put her arm around the girl and started to lead her upstairs. As they left Xander started pacing back and forth. He got a shiver down his spine. Something bad was going to happen. That's when he heard another knock on the door. He groaned, he hasn't met this many new people since the begining of the outbreak. He opened the door with his gun in his hand with the safety off. When he opened it he saw another female and this time instead of a ferret there was a 150 lb German Sheppard.

"I don't suppose you want to sell Girl Scout Cookies, huh? Now, I'm guessing by your crossbow, that your the person I spied who was in the woods. Get in here. I don't want any trouble, Xander's my name." He didn't want to mess with that dog. It could do some serious damage. No, olive branches tend to get you farther than a gun in the face.

Katie Halesworth

Her uncomfort grew with each passing second, Nick seeming to have the same thought on his mind. Katie whipped her head around as the door opened, not needing his invite in to enter. She pushed in quickly, her arm holding the cross bow dropping to her side as she patted her leg again, Nick trotting right to her. Smiling slightly at the boy, she kneeled next to the dog. It's not that she trusted him enough not to have her scope trained on hima t all times, but she could hear voices upstairs, and if he wanted to kill her, there was so stopping him. Katie placed her cross bow on the ground, her knee instinctively going to cover it, she pet Nick's head, scratching behind each ear as the dog panted, then stood up, grabbing her cross bow.

"I'm Katie." She replied, waving slightly, before glancing down at Nick as a low, nearly silent growl formed in his throat, before he even stood. A smirk formed on her lips, her fingers triggering down at the dog to signal him to stop, and he did, his tongue coming out as he panted again. "I uh need some shelter." She hoped he wouldn't turn her out, and she more hoped that she would find a group she could form up with here, but that seemed out of the picture. Katie's eyes fluttered back down to Nick, then the boys eyes. "That's Nick."

Rena sniffed shamefully as she nodded to Xander and thanked him. "Thank you so much." She whispered while taking in a deep breath and trying to calm herself down. "My name is Rena." She added, trying to remember her manners in such an odd predicament. "We could have made it....." She thought, wishing Logan had lived to make it here with them. Her eyes were on the ground until Lyra grabbed Rena's gun and handed it to her. She sniffed and nodded.

As the two made their way up the stairs Rena sniffled. "I'm sorry for the trouble." She mumbled before feeling a slight nuzzling against her cheek. She gave a small smile and glanced to her right to see Coon, her pet ferret. "Its good you have your brother though!" She tried to say cheerfully but it sounded sad. She couldn't erase the memory that was fresh on her mind. Her brother had taught her and helped her so much. If it wasn't for him, there was no way she would have survived this long. And now that he was gone, she worried that she might not survive much longer.

Luckily the road was reasonably clear on the ascent to the mansion. After giving Tia some slow mouthfuls of water from his bottle Kieran slipped Tia’s revolver into his backpack along with his medical kit and water bottle before giving Becky a handful of .308s through the cab’s back window from her bag. ‘Remind me why we picked her up?’ Becky called back through the window, keeping her eyes on the road. ‘Because I wasn’t going to leave her for the biters Becky, you wouldn’t have either if I know you at all’ he replied with a firm tone. ‘Fair enough’ Becky replied. Looking over the cab Kieran spoke through the window again ‘It is far you think? Maybe she knows people there.’ Throwing the speedometer a glance Becky takes an educated guess ‘Couple of miles or so.’

Turning the ’72 Dodge truck off the road Becky slowed the truck to a crawl as they approached the mansion. Making sure all his kit was in the backpack Kieran threw it over his shoulders, double checking his Glock was still in his jeans’ pocket before lifting up Tia in both arms in front of him. Bringing the truck to a halt Becky was quick to open the door, kneeling down behind it she loaded her rifle back up to the full five rounds. Stepping down from the back of the flat bed Kieran walked around to stand near the outstretched door Becky was shielding herself with ‘What are you doing Kay?’ she whispered sharply. Tia limp in his arms in front of him Kieran rested her against his chest as he spoke ‘She might know someone in there.’ Kieran hoped. He was risking that if they were armed they wouldn’t quickly shoot at a man helping a child even if they didn’t know her.

Becky outstretched an arm pressing down on the horn ever slightly, hopefully just enough to catch attention of the house rather than the whole area. Keeping low behind the door Becky looked up at Kieran before eyeing the door just over the bottom of the door’s window, rifle in both hands ready.

Seeing the door begin to open Kieran took a step forward calling out

‘We need help, this girl is badly dehydrated. Do you know her? Her name is Tia.’

Xander put his hand to his face and sighed. He didn't need this many people bothering him. He looked up and said, "You get one night. Take a room up stairs. I don't want any trouble. I have a sister to protect." Xander looked out a window and saw the truck pulling up. "SHIT, what the hell. Are we having a party here? I'll crank some tunes, attract some walkers and make a real shindig. This had better be good." That's when the horn went off. "Somebody has a death wish." He spied on the truck. Xander turned to Katie and said, "Cover me from the window, and If I get hit by a bolt. I will kill you." His face was serious.

*Meanwhile*

"I guess you know my name, but It's Lyra." She smiled at the girl. That's when she saw the ferret, she wanted to pet the creature, but didn't want to upset Rena any further, so she ignored him. Lyra listened to her talk about how lucky she was to still have her brother. She agreed, without Xander, she would have died at the hands of her mothers. "I'm happy I have him. He's saved my life on more than one occasion." She lead her to the bathroom and grabbed a towel. "Now lets get the blood off of you." Lyra smiled and started wiping the blood off of her face. "I think your going to have to reapply your make up, but try to stay away from red. I'm personally sick of the color myself." Lyra tried to make a joke. A loud horn came from outside the house. "More visitors, maybe we can get a group going again..."

Xander opened the door and was greeted by shouting. He raised his gun and said, "Could you quiet down, your going to attract a huge crowd of walkers with your noisy car and your yelling." As a sign of peace he raised his hands and slowly put his gun away. However the safety was off. He slowly walked over there trying not to make the girl in the bed get jumpy. He took a quick look over the girl and said, "No, never saw her a day in my life. How do I know that she really is dehydrated. This could be a distraction to lure me out, but you took the great risk of HONKING the horn to get my attention. Take her in. My sisters on the second floor, tell her that I said it's ok to give her water. Use my name, infact. It's Xander by the way." He turned his back to the group and walked towards the front door stairs. He sat down watching the woods. He pulled out his gun and clicked the safety on. Either it's in his waist band with the safety off or in his hand with the safety on.

The sound of the car honking wasn't the only thing putting Minya on edge. The amount of noise that the people were made him start looking around around himself, knowing how easy it was to attract them to a place with a simple noise. He looked at the windows, checking for anything that he could see pointing out the window. From what he could see there was nothing apparent, he pulled up his hood, covered in feathers, leaves and a large pair of curled goat horns, and bolted for the back of the house. Trying to be a quiet as possible while heading for the back of the house.

Their had to be a door somewhere. A trap door to the cellar, back door, anything that he would be able to leave unnoticed from the others. In the back, there was a cellar door, open slightly but enough for him to slip through and fudge the door a bit so it could be opened from the inside. It was dark, that what was completely fine to him. So long as they haven't found the cellar, he would go unnoticed for the night so long as no storms rolled in the morning. He could still hear people as he moved down into the darkest part of the cellar to remain unseen as he kept looking around, muttering prayers to his own Heathen gods so they wouldn't find and shoot him. Then again, a man with horns wasn't the most settling things that one would want to see aside from walkers.

Kieran widened his eyes at the sight of the man’s pistol, flashing Becky a glance he shook his head slightly suggesting against any ideas she may have had with her own firearm. Extending two fingers from the hand he had wrapped around the Tia’s shoulder Kieran tries his best to sound calm ‘Sorry. We don’t mean you any harm.’ Noticing the man’s gaze Kieran tilted Tia slightly to give him a better look, his brow frowning at his response. ‘No distraction, I promise you that. I’m an EMT I can tell you its dehydration, she’s not bitten.’ During their exchange Becky had her rifle aimed up at the scope shimmering in the window, she wanted to take fewer chances.

Nodding at Xander’s invitation inside Kieran offers him a slight smile as he passes through the front door ‘Thank you. My name’s Kieran, my friend Becky. She’s a mechanic.’ By now Becky had lowered her rifle down to her side and raised a peaceful hand to the scope in the window. Placing the rifle into the flat bed Becky started up the truck again and parked over in front of the mansion’s garage, a small offset structure built away from the house itself. Glancing over at Xander Becky offered him a firm nod before entering the garage via its side door. Cam belt first, introductions second that was her priority.

Kieran made an effort to find sugar, salt and a glass before carrying Tia upstairs. Walking through the hallway Kieran kept his gaze between Tia’s unconscious face and through the doorways of any empty rooms, passing the others as he did so ‘Xander said I can use some water, I have my own too. Please excuse the brief introduction, my name is Kieran I’m a Richmond EMT. My friend’s Becky, she’s outside working on the truck. I need to see to Tia first, if anyone is injured come see me.’ Hopefully his British accent served to compliment his intentions. Shortly after Kieran settled on a bedroom and closed the door behind them.

Placing Tia on the bed Kieran set the glass down filling it with water from his backpack. Adding guessed measures of sugar and salt he stirred the mixture with a nearby pen before feeding it very slowly and carefully into Tia’s mouth. After what seemed like fifteen minutes Kieran was content with the amount Tia had in her system, about half the glass, setting it down on the bedside table. Dragging a chair from the wall Kieran sat down beside the bed, holding Tia’s wrist and checking his watch. The results wouldn’t be immediate but there was a difference already. Arching his head back with a tired sigh he pulled out his Glock and placed it on the windowsill the other side of him, rubbing his face deeply in both hands before resting his eyes.

Angry, jabbing pain crashed through Tia's head, each throb accompanied by a flash of picture: Craig's leering face, but rotted and vacant-eyed like one of the freaks; DeShaun grinning his good-natured smile as he drove a blue pick-up into a knot of vehicles blocking a blacktop highway; herself; standing in a concreted hole as blood poured onto her face and into her mouth; a giant hand lifting her up bodily, another giant hand knocking on a door.

The images stopped, replaced by an unfaltering bright light. The jabs of pain stopped, replaced by a steady, dull ache in her temples. She felt she was lying on something soft, far softer than the drain she last remembered being in. She kept her eyes closed, trying to keep her breathing as shallow as possible, and listened. She could hear voices downstairs, and people moving about. Then her pulse quickened as she heard the rustle of clothing, and light breathing. Someone must be right next to her! Tia quickly went through a mental checklist: If the freaks had got her, she wouldn't even be breathing. If Green Bandana and Craig had got her, she certainly wouldn't be lying on a soft bed. She tensed, ready for action, and snapped her eyes open.

In an instant she took in her surroundings. She lay in a spartan bedroom, with light streaming in a window. Between her and the window sat a red-haired man. Somehow, he looked familiar, but most importantly, he had his eyes closed. Stubble patched his cheeks, and he looked drawn. Tia slowly let out her breath and relaxed a little. The tension had amped up her headache again, and she winced as she raised her head off the pillow for a better look round. She was still wearing her giant hoodie, but there was no sign of her weapons. But there was a black, sleek handgun on the windowsill. It would be a real risk, trying to creep round someone this close. Besides, she wasn't sure she felt strong enough. She lifted an arm experimentally and waved it gently. The red-haired man didn't move. Tia propped herself up on her elbows, and immediately her vision blurred and pain lanced through her temples again. She lay back down and sighed. Well, she was in better shape here than she had been in days. There was nothing for it.

Hey, Carrot Top! Hey, wake up sleepyhead! Where the hell we at, man? And who are you and where's my Granddaddy's gun? They better not be freaks I hear downstairs, Carrot Top, I seen them go upstairs before.

There wasn't room in her mind for the constant progression of thoughts she'd once had.
Now it was as simple: breath- in, out. run. duck.

She was off track. At least, Makay thought she was. Her only map had been lost with her former group. All she knew was she'd been running for a week, and had yet to see the ocean. Last time she's known her exact location, the girl recalled she'd been close. She figured she'd gotten turned around.

She dodged a low hanging tree branch, noting a walker meandering through the woods as she turned to avoid the wood. It took notice of her- but quickly lost interest as she darted out of it's immediate area. That was why she ran. It was generally safer. Walkers weren't fast enough to keep up. It built up her stamina. If the walkers were unnaturally persistent, she could run to match the dead until they lost interest or she found shelter.

Her bow slammed against her hip as she slowed slightly, trying to get her bearings. Her arrows were packed away in her shoulder bag. Makay didn't have the best of aim with the weapon, and didn't use it often. Her bowie knife was much more trusty, even if it was messier. That fact was quite plainly illustrated on her blood splattered clothes and matted hair.

The young woman had adapted well to the apocalypse. As well as she could that is.
Her mind was clear as she continued wandering, trying to retain a distant memory of telling direction. That was probably the main reason she was lost. The never-eat-soggy-waffles method didn't work unless one was facing north in the first place.

The first thing that struck Makay was the sharp smell of gunpowder. Then came the distant firing of heavy artillery.
Her brow furrowed and she scoffed slightly, feeling bad but mostly cursing the stupidity of whoever had been stupid enough to use guns of that sort. Poor souls had probably been under the impression they could move location easily with the assistance of machine guns, not recognizing the fact she'd learned quickly; guns are no good. All they do is attract walkers.

Mostly though, the screams of the dead and dying made her grip her knife tighter. She felt no sympathy for the souls that were lost at the moment. All she could focus on was that this area probably would house stray walkers, hurrying towards the sounds of life. It was a very distant beacon, but there nonetheless, and Makay was down on her luck.

She began running again, quickening her pace, settling easily into her deep breathes, conscious of her changing surroundings and missing the cover of thick woods. Soon, she came across a river, and paused, starring at it with a lost look for a moment.
....Where the hell am I.

Overcoming her questioning of her location quickly, Makay sprinted straight into the first foot of water, not concerned about her weather ready combat boots. They'd proved to be water proof so far.

Not seeing any blood or body parts floating in the general area, Makay eager pulled two water bottles out of her bag. Out of her three, the last was hardly a quarter full, these beyond empty. As they filled, she crouched and dunked her face, holding the bottles with one hand and rubbing her face with the other, trying to get some grime off.
The sounds of a herd were close here; Makay was lulled into a sense of peace that walkers would be much more interested in the noise then her cautiously moving form in the river. She looked up, hearing the faint sound of birds chirping. Well! That was a new and welcome sound. Perhaps she could attempt to shoot two or so and get a semi-decent dinner.
The brunette hadn't found a house with any food in it for days. All she had was canned peaches. A nice toasty bird would be amazing, if it had some meat on it. Any meat these days was amazing, actually.

She put a hand to her forehead, dreading the coming night, realizing she probably shouldn't have soaked herself as it could get cold. There was an island in the middle of the river. More woods to one side. A road.
Where to go?
Makay decided not to worry and just wing it. It wasn't like wondering aimlessly was new for her.
She put her full bottles away and pulled out the last.
Today hadn't been half bad after all.

Katie Halesworth

Though it wasn't funny or pleasant, Katie couldn't help but hide her smile as the boy spoke, and though she knew he was one hundred percent serious, it was the closest to a joke she had heard in a while. She too was surprised by the sudden numbers rising in the group that she had hoped was small. At his words, she sprang to the window, clicking her cross bow into place and calling a small, "come," to Nick. She saw through the window a group of people, one of which looked extremely sick. Shit, she thought, watching them enter. The man carried the nearly unconsious one, and his friend, the one with the rifle, waved a peaceful hand to her. She nodded back, a small sign of hello, but ample, and kept her cross bow ready, looking out the window as the girl parked the car. As she disappeared, she allowed herself to leave the window, her crossbow arm dropping to her side as she looked around, the two new-by's going upstairs. What a motley crew.

She glanced at the boy she had met earlier, Xander, and nodded in his direction. "These your friends?" She asked, moving slightly closer, but just enough so she could see out the door, into the woods. Remembering he had said she could get a room, small goosebumps rose on her back. She hadn't slept in a real room, never mind a bed, in a few weeks. Most of the time, she found some place flat, got in her sleeping back, and slept on Nick. It kept him warm, and gave her a pillow. It worked well enough.

Her attention flashed back to the woods, and she couldn't shake the feeling that there was someone there. But she ignored it, hoping she was wrong.

She gave a small smile to the girl. "I'm glad that I found someone nice, even if it wasn't intentional." She said, though she still felt bad that she had come into their 'territory'. As they entered the bathroom, she pushed everything out of her mind. Coon nuzzled her once again but when Lyra started to wipe down Rena's face, he scurried back into her bag. "Oh that is Coon. He is my pet ferret." Rena informed Lyra with a small smile. He was all she had left. When she made the joke about red, Rena managed a small chuckle that wasn't forced. "I agree." She said before moving a little to gently set her bag and weapon on the floor.

At the sound of the honk, Rena nearly jumped out of her skin and she heard Coon in her bag jump as well. "what was that?" She asked in a panic before looking around and noticing there was a window in which she would be able to see in front of the mansion. Without thinking, she grabbed her gun and rushed to the window, glancing out it before realizing this isn't her territory to protect. "Lyra, I apologize." She whispered before lowering her weapon and moving back towards the girl. "Its just become habit to try and defend territory. I know its only for the night, but as long as I am here, I will help defend you and your brother as well as your home." She told her before forcing a smile at the end, to show some sort of friendship, if it was even possible to make those anymore.