Isobel Maria Inez's Story

It takes several moments for the light to penetrate the darkness shrouding Isobel Inez. Her head hurts but its nothing comapared to the intense burning in her right arm. She turns her head to it and notes a swelling of blood from the palm of her hand clear to her awkwardly bent elbow. Groaning in near agony she attempts to move the probably broken appendage. She is pleasantly surprised to find her arm moves easily and painlessly. Okay so not broken, just cut up.

Isobel groans again as she pulls herself up. Her head pounds with the effort to remember where she is and how she got there. Apparently she's in some kind of alleyway. Beside her lays a broken ladder with blood over one broken point. She looks up, and realizes she must have broken the fire escape trying to get down. On the way down it must have cut her arm and she no doubt smacked her head against the concrete.

"Oh god..." Isobel groans as she stands on unsteady feet. She remembers being in a department store in search of new shoes to scavenge and instead finding nothing but corpses. Now she sifts through her bag in search of bandages to patch her arm up with. She only finds a tiny bottle of Rubbing Alcohol.

She flushes the wound and wraps several handkerchiefs around her arms to stop the blood flow. She doesn't exactly know what town she's in but she remembers seeing a small corner pharmacy near a grouping of houses and what looked to be a small church. Her head still hurts like hell but she manages to pull herself towards the front entrance of the alley.

Isobel peers out into the streets. Noticing there's no Zombies about she decides to cut across the street. Its faster than going through the dark alleys and safer than using fire escapes. However she's quickly proven very wrong that there are no Zombies here. One that had been hiding in the shadow of a postal box stands quickly as she approaches. It grumbles loud and runs at her.

With little time to react and her brain still in a fog she forgets all about the hunting knife or shovel she keeps on her at all times and grabs one of the pistols from her hip holster. Its this stupid decision that has her cringing seconds later when the bang echoes in the empty town. The bullet hits the Zombie between his shoulder and neck. It makes him stumble but its not a fatal wound. She runs a few paces back and fires again. This time the bullet embeds itself through the man's neck. Blood sprays at a phenomenal pace from the wound.

Isobel puts the gun away and takes off before anymore zombies can show up. She knows how stupid it was to pull her gun but the damage is done. There's bound to be plenty of them about to swarm the area now. Her beat up sneakers make barely any noise against the pavement as she runs as fast as she can towards the pharmacy.

She gets there quickly and slips in through the back door. Creeping vines try to snag her feet as she creeps in. Fallen shelves and a few blood puddles catch her eye. She stays low to the ground and uses the shelves as cover while looking for bandages or anything else to scavenge. Her foot catches an empty pill bottle - it rolls across the floor and clangs loudly against a fallen shelf. She holds her breath and waits.

Jaymes was relaxing as well as he could in the alleyway, enjoying himself a sandwich. He threw the end of it away, since it was pretty stale. Disgusting thing it tasted of, but it was food and food kept Jaymes alive. Standing up and stretching, he grabbed his bag making sure it was securely fastened around him. He wasn't going to take any chances of loosing any of his valuable "food" and bandages. That was when he heard the gunshots.

Really.. who the hell... He paused as he listened to some of the stragglers around the Alley he was in start rushing to the noise. Quickly whipping out his katana, he gave them a few clean cuts through and through. The bodies collapsed a few feet away from him. Scrunching up his nose at the scent of death, he forced himself not to gag, and upchuck his lunch. Wiping his katana clean he put it back in the case, and that's when he saw her.

Some girl running to the pharmacy nearby. Women. He thought shaking his head. How typical for the women to screw things up. Sighing he quickly moved out of the alleyway and followed her in silence to the pharmacy. He stayed outside, ready to question her, that's when he heard something echo in the building. Can she not stay quiet?! He thought even more as he prepared himself as he walked in the building. "Can't stay quiet can you?!" He whispered loudly as his green eyes searched the building for her, and that's when he saw her silhouette.

Before he could continue saying anything, he could hear the grunting of the undead nearby. Why... please... tell me why I was stupid enough to follow her? He thought as he pulled out his katana, preparing himself. Maybe it was because he was lonely, he had been on his own for months. Maybe he just longed for the social interaction.

He looked in her general direction once more. "If I die... I want someone else to know my name... and if I live... well... lets just say you're gonna know the name of the person who saved your life." He paused just to give a sarcastic chuckle. "My name is Jaymes."

Isobel felt as if her brain had short circuited. The voice of a real live person has her standing so quickly a jolt of nausea rolls through her stomach. Far off she hears the shrieks and groans of the nearing zombies. All of them brought by the sound of her stupidity. She curses wildly and takes the hunting knife from her thigh holster and brandished it cautiously. As far as Isobel can tell he's quite young and armed. He's also strange looking but Isobel isn't the best judge of normal anyhow.

"If I die... I want someone else to know my name... and if I live... well... lets just say you're gonna know the name of the person who saved your life." He paused just to give a sarcastic chuckle. "My name is Jaymes." Isobel really wants to make some kind of equally as sarcastic reply but her extreme joy at seeing another human being is far to great. She settles for nodding dumbly.

"Mine is Isobel, I dont plan on death today." She says without her voice wavering once. She looks around a little better now. As she came in the back door she didn't see the whole store but now she noted it seems to be your average corner Pharmacy. Wich means if they are lucky there will be a hatch leading to the roof. However another tangle with a fire escape doesn't sound great in her mind. She looks at Jaymes as if hoping he could suggest any way out of here besides fighting.

Her adrenaline rush is starting to wear off and the pain in her arm coming back seven fold (no pun intended). She bites her lip and switches to her shovel. Now really isn't the time for the meek act but her head is swimming with the sensory overload. And as the first Zombie breaks through the glass front door all she can do is back away to where she thinks the main office will be. Only backing up isn't very safe as she finds herself ensnared by Zombie arms. Their rank rotted flesh tangling in her hair and clothes to get at her. She jerks back with a light yelp and swings the shovel hard. It nearly decapitates one zombies and knocks another to its side. She looks at Jaymes with renewed vigour and sapeaks.

"We have to run."

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Jaymes snorted as his katana whipped through few of the undead. "What exit do you suggest? That smelly horde, or that smelly horde?" He motioned to both exits as he spoke, his sarcastic smirk gone from his face. "I don't know about you, but I prefer NO smelly horde." He sliced a few more, feeling a workout in his arms. Tossing a few of his throwing knives, he grabbed Isobel's upper arm, and dragged her through the exit. He had no choice but to run.

The zombies of course were high on their tail, seems he had forgotten about the really smart ones. Entering the woods he took his katana and sliced a few more. Sweat was sliding down his cheeks, as he focused on wiping out the small pack that entered the woods. "Stay.. dead!" He shouted after slicing the zombie for what felt like the hundredth time. The zombie grunted, and Jaymes kicked it.[color=#551033 "I said stay dead!"[/color] He growled, as he tried wiping zombie slime off his boots.

After a while, the zombies die down, surprised Jaymes looked a bit shocked. He didn't expect it to go so smoothly. Wiping his blade clean for the second time that evening he turned to Isobel crossing his arms, as he idly played with his multiple lip piercings. He stood there in silent fascination for what seemed like minutes, when in reality it was just mere seconds. Brushing some sweat from his forehead, he sighed and looked down. His black hair slightly damp from the evening mist and his own sweat, possibly some bits of zombie blood.

His red eye shadow smudged and barley visible in the moonlight. He doubted she could see much of him, which was good since all he was wearing was a torn Jack Daniels shirt, underneath a worn leather jacket and a simple pair of ripped blue jeans and black spiked boots. He carried several weapons on him, one of them happened to be the Katana that he had gotten from a vintage thrift shop. The guy seemed happy to be rid of it, and so far, it's seemed to have brought Jaymes luck.

Besides his Katana he had his hand crafted Throwing Knives strapped around his legs, which reminded him he only had four left since he lost four back there defending Isobel. The only last weapon he had upon him was for when things got too bloody and difficult for him to handle. His AxeBlade Guitar. The katana always was strapped around his belt loop, for easy access where the guitar stayed on his back. It was rare for him to remove the weapon. If Jaymes recalled he only had to use it twice in the months of lonliness.

Looking back up at Isobel he sighed and shook his head. "You owe me four knives..." He started walking forward, "Also, if you continue to travel with me, there is to be no guns, they make noise... and as you can see, noise is never a good thing." He held out two fingers, "Two, I will not let you die or get hurt by any zombies, as long as you show me the basic respect." His tone was full of what seemed seriousness and order. "Three, I don't expect you to like my rules, or even like me, but I have a safe house up the ways a bit, and if you want to live, I suggest you come with me until dawn." He stopped and turned around to look at her, pointing to her makeshift bandage, "And I supposed you'll want that cleaned up and bandaged properly." He smirks crossing his arms once more.

As to answer any questions she might have he continues, "I don't have much food, but I've stocked up on these supplies for months, risking my life for them in case I would ever need them..." The truth was, he used to have friends that helped him stock up when they were together, but unfortunately Jaymes lost them to zombies... and Jaymes himself had to kill his best friends. Only he knew that, and that was the way it was going to stay.

Though should Isobel decide to go with him, she would probably see makeshift graves for his friends. Yet, Jaymes wouldn't offer any explanation on them. He turned around and continued his path. "The choice is yours Miss Isobel." He said ever so politely as he shoved his hands in his pockets, his guitar shimmering in the moonlight.

Allison stumbled into town close to dark. The truck she had jacked on the highway ran out of gas about 3 miles from the town. “Oh well, at least I didn’t have to walk the whole way to get here.” She said to herself, happy she actually found something to travel in. It was a very lucky find, very lucky indeed, and it probably will be a long time before it ever happens again. There was but only one problem, cars tended to attract zombies. On the interstate were the truck died there had been about 5 that actually came at her, she ran 3 of them over and shot the other two with her silencer on her pistol, which was also a very, very lucky discover.

Allison jogged most of the way to the town with her back pack on front and her duffle bag on as a back pack. They had gotten pretty light, as she was running out of some supplies. When she got to town is was dusk, not very much light, so easy to walk around, but also easy for other things to hide. She was looking for a place to chill out for the night and recollect the materials she desperately needed. Allison spotted a pharmacy on the corner, and got there as fast as she could. She kept to the shadows with her eyes peeled and her long dagger from her boot in hand.

When she turned the corner to go around back she saw a zombie walking down the alley. She ran up and stuck the dagger threw its skull. It gurgled, slashed out, and dropped to the ground with a thud. She stood there waiting quietly for another one to arrive, she thought she saw one, but it turned and went up the alley. Allison kept her back to the wall of the building as she crept down the alley a little bit further to get to the back door of the pharmacy, checking everywhere as she moved.

She got in with luck the door was still ajar. As she scoped around, the door was open, but it didn’t look like anything was coming through anytime soon. She took her small flashlight out of her back pack and dimmed it as she investigated the aisles. She found a few pools of blood, hopefully nothing to be worried about. She pulled out the string bag she kept in her back pack and stuffed it with what she knew she either needed now, or would need later. The last two remaining bottles of pain reliever, allergy meds, a pack of small clothes, hair ties A girl has got to have some , and a couple heat packs. She then went to the food and snack aisle, grabbed a box of gram crackers, small thing of peanut butter and a bottle of water, and about three bars of soft chocolate. SCORE.

Allison headed to the back room of the pharmacy; there was an emergency door inside and a locking door with a window, perfect place to crash. She took off all her bags, and made sure all her new supplies fit in everything. Now she was set and fully stocked. Allison shut and locked the room door, and made sure there was no alarm on the exit. She set up her AK-47 and put all her bags on top of one another to get some shut eye.

Allison was a very light sleeper, so she wasn’t surprised that she woke up more than once, about 5 times through the night actually. Every time, she got up with her gun, made a round, and came back. The 5th time she got up she decided just to leave. “I would rather not find anything” though, and anyone would be nice She said to herself as she left to scope out the rest of the forgotten town.

Isobels eyes are wide as they run. Her head in an extreme whirl of confusion. One second they are in the Pharmacy the next they arnt. As they move she instinctually bats zombies away with her shovel. When they stop she doublea over to get oxygen in her system.

 "The choice is yours Miss Isobel." Jaymes says. Isobel had listened dutifully to his rules and though they seemed a little heavier than what she would like the choice is very, very obvious. After months without human contact she's desperate to be near another person. To actually hold a conversation that isn't one sided and to have a person who can watch her back. Isobel may be smart in normal aspects but her survival instincts always kick in the wrong way.

"Ill come with you," Isobel answers. Even if she doesn't know how trust worthy Jaymes is she knows there's no way she can walk away now. Not when theres this living human being standing right in front of her. She laughs at the whole situation. She unhooks her hip holsters and puts the guns in her messenger bag.

"Lead the way." She says with a wide smile.

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Jaymes nodded hearing her answer. As her guns were hidden, he holds out his hand for her to grab. " It's a rough path... and I'd hate for you to pass out...". Whether she took his hand or not, he continues walking, deeper into the woods, where it gets darker and a lot more silent.

After long moments of silence, Jaymes brings her up to a Small Cabin. Sighing he looks back at her and shrugs. "It's not much, but its home.. Casually he goes and opens the door smiling, he steps in warmed slightly from the embers in the fireplace. Taking his guitar off his shoulder he sets it in the corner, before sitting down, removing his boots and jacket. showing well muscled arms covered in tattoos.

"So Miss Isobel, where you from?". He asks as he reaches down for a first aid kit, patting the seat next to him.

Isobel gladly takes his hand though she has to bite her cheek to keep from commenting on the whole passing out thing. She follows quickly and is struck suddenly by how real this situation is.How she won't have to be alone with her thoughts anymore. When they get to the small cabin she smiles. To other people it may not seem like much but its better than most of the gutters she has found herself in.

And it's far better than sleeping in stores or other unsecure buildings. And considering her most recent tangle with death she's glad to be able to kick back and relax for just a moment in time. She examines everything within the cabin to extreme detail and when She is adresses she looks over to Jaymes with a slightly mystified look in her deep brown eyes.

Glad to be getting fixed up she sits beside him and pulls off the bloody handkerchiefs. With the blood dried she can see the cut isn't too deep but its length makes up for it. Obviously the broken fire escape caught the palm of her hand and tore downward to the crease of her elbow. She also notices the red inflamed edges of the wound that suggest infection. Probably from the dirt on the rags.

"Jacksonville, Florida before this all went down. Living with my parents though at that stage of life I was more of a tenant than their child." She laughs lightly. Then grows solemn thinking of her parents. She could have easily lived without thinking about them. "And you?" She asks Jaymes.

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Jaymes takes a good look at the wound and smiles. "Good news, it's not deep... bad news... you're arm's gonna hurt like hell." He listens about her past as he takes some peroxide and gauze, cleaning the blood from around the wound, and even placing the peroxide in the wound, causing it to bubble and most likely burn. His breath caught in his throat when she asked about him.

Of course he should have realized that asking about her past would make her ask about his in return. Grimacing slightly he kneeled down and grabbed the bandages, and wrapped her arm while thinking about his past. Without thinking he spoke openly. "I was born and raised in San Fransisco California. An only child, but at the age of 14 I ran away from home, and me and my friends lived in an abandoned church. Since then...well we four have been on our own... now I'm 19...single.. and stuck here..." He coughed and taped the bandages over her arm before smiling. "Don't worry, I don't mind the single life...with all the smelly undead women out there, I'm glad to be single... but sometimes.. just having another human... it's nice... when they don't try to eat you on the first encounter."

"There... that should do it....feel any better?" He asked as he went over to one of the corners grabbing two small bags of jerky. "It's not fresh, but its... something for your stomach. He tossed one over to her as he grabbed a bottle of Whiskey. Opening the bottle he sat on the couch once more, and took a few swigs, feeling the burn of the whiskey as it went down his throat. Looking at her he offered her some of it to drink.

"Eh... if you need some clothes, I think.. I might have some..." He stopped and got up going to an old worn trunk, entering a combination he pulled out seperate types of clothing. Thinking back he thought of his old girlfiend. He sighed sadly. He had to put her down with his own two hands. He paused and looked on the wall to see two similar Katana's like the ones he had, coated in dried blood. All along the wall were weapons coated in dried blood with pictures next to each one.

The first were the two Katanas with his old girlfriend.

Another was throwing knives next to his best friend.

The last picture was of his girlfriendsbrother, right next to a golf club, that was horribly dented.

Standing up, Jaymes placed the clothing on the ground in front of her before going in the back room and changing himself. Walking back out of the room he smiled weakly, and locked the door and locked the metal frames in front of the windows. He sighed and sat back next to Isobel, grabbing the pack of cigarettes off the side table, he lit one up, grimacing at the stale taste.He looked back over at her and nodded.

Isobel listens quietly to him speaking. It did indeed hurt when he started patching up the wound but it faded into a dull throb after a while. She berates herself in her mind for being so helpless on this day. After all she's always been alone before. There was no reason for tjis day to be any less different than any others. Shes glad it is though since she probably wouldn't have met Jaymes otherwise.

"It feels a lot better...Thank you." She says in reply to his question. She stuffs the dirty rags to the bottom of her Messenger bag and smiles lightly as he offers her food and whiskey. Her appetite is all but gone from the days escapades but she forces a few peices down her throat anyway. She knows its better to be as energized as possible. However she does decline then offered Whiskey - being not much of a drinker really.

When he setsbthe clothes out she gladly takes them. After he's done in the back room she enters and peels off her dirty blood stained clothes. Her old tattered clothing is replaced by slightly newer ones that arnt caked with mud, blood, and god knows what else. And though they arnt really her style she's grateful to have something clean on her.

"Thank you for giving me a chance....I know I'm not the most careful of people but you caught me on a bad day." She says while looling back over to Jaymes.

Jaymes continued smoking even as she changed. "I'm glad they fit... I can't really wear women's clothing." He'd say trying to make a joke, though it sounding way more serious than usual. Upon her thanks he waved it off. "No need... I understand...the will to survive its great... but being quiet... eh... that's hard."

He chuckled and put out his cigarette. "I've known of bones and joints popping that's attracted those creatures." There wasn't much more he could say so he just stood once more and paced back and forth. "The beds there if you want it... I've been sleepin on the couch lately." He'd give her a cautious glance. "Just.. don't.. touch anything..." He'd sigh and yawn.

Killing zombies really could take a lot out of you. So could the realization of another living human being in the same room as you. "Them's was my ex's clothes... keep em, and any other clothing you like in the trunk...I can't put that much use to em." He chuckled and collapsed back on the couch feeling slightly secure in his safe house. The door was barred and sealed, as were the windows. No one except him and now Isobel knew of the location.

"I jus wonder if there is other life out there... ya know.. I'd sure like to have a cat.. or a dog.. an animal companion... that'll be nice.."

He closed his eyes slowly drifting in and out of sleep... though he was always on alert for any sound from a nearby zombie... he wouldn't become zombie chow when he's sleeping.. that's just playing unfair.

Murphy trekked his way through a forest. It had been days since he had seen an open area, though he knew that this would be safer than towns. His arrival in America had been months past and only when he came to the first town that he found America wasn't any better than his motherland, the difference was that it was bigger, giving the people more places to hide. The coast was far worse than inland, he had discovered that on his first week in the country. He had traveled with a small family, a mother and her daughter and son. To the kids he was known as Uncle Murphy and they were the best. It didn't take long before he became a part of this family and with them he traveled North. They accidentally stumbled upon a city and with no other place to hide for the night they entered.

After what happened there it was hard not to think there should be warning signs on all major cities. Once they stepped foot inside the city it had taken weeks to get out. They found a nice empty apartment that they set up camp, during the day Murphy would go searching for food while Lana, the mother, would stay and watch over her kids and their camp. One time Murphy came back. A hoard of freshly dead zombies were bunched outside the door, burning. He dropped the food and ran inside. His heart leaped when he found that Lana and the kids were still alive; though he later found that Lana had been bitten. She was changing, and as painfully and slowly as one could. Murphy had to put her down after promising to find someplace safe for her kids. She had known if she were to die or be bitten that Murphy wouldn't be able to take care of her kids, as much as he loved them. He wasn't a father and she doubted if he could ever truly be one. He promised they would have the safest place to live, then he shot her; her kids hiding far away. After that he traveled with the kids, trying to take care of them best he could, but it was hard to go searching for food for them and leaving them alone for hours. Along an empty western dirt road they ran into another family. Murphy could tell they were well off because the kids were running and laughing and nobody looked too starved. They camped with the family for one night, Murphy trying to persuade them to take on two more children. In the end they agreed, but his price for giving them a good family to live with was everything he had been carrying...well everything but his flask and Celtic knot necklace.

He travels alone now, slowly gathering a decent supplies together again. It was no problem for him to leave Katie and Eric, Lana's kids, with the family and giving them his supplies. He would have given nearly anything to make sure they had a decent home.
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Now in the forest he had his duffle-bag slung over his shoulder, his pistols hidden and held by his belt, and his hand holding a big branch he found. The branch, he knew, wouldn't do much damage, but it would disorient the zombie enough for him to get away without alerting others of his position. This is what he did, since he carried guns and they sent enough noise to attract zombies, he would find some blunt object he could use to swing around if he should need it. Though he had recently found one silencer for his gun, which made him feel more confident.

The forest was silent, not a good thing, there were no birds singing or the sound of scampering wild-life, though Murphy tried to reassure himself that the birds hadn't sang since the zombies started, but he knew that wasn't true. He had heard some birds sing recently, a noise he had missed more than he thought. A noise he wasn't hearing, which meant there was something close by that was spooking the birds and other critters. Murphy walked slowly, his eyes flitting quickly around, only catching small glances of what was around him, his ears listening intently for any kind noise; a noise that would alert him of danger or if the danger had passed.

Then there was a sound of cracking wood.

Murphy jumped behind a tree, the branch he carried raised and ready. When there wasn't another noise after, he nudged his way from the tree, only letting a small part of his head peak around the tree. He didn't see anything, so he figured it was safe to continue along his randomly chosen path. Though his nerves were set on edge, he could feel his whole body shaking with the slight raise in his adrenalin and the anticipation of danger.

He came over a hill and spotted an old cabin. His interest peeked. It had been about two months since he had slept in doors. It looked abandoned enough so he headed in that direction. Murphy found himself on the back side of the house, it had some windows. Murphy crouched below a window, noting bars had been placed on them. Looks like there might be someone living here after all, he thought to himself. Still he peeked up just to check. There was nobody in the room he was looking in, but he did note some movement of shadows in the next room. He quickly crouched down again. It had been a long time since he had seen another person and he couldn't be sure if these people were friendly or if they would be aggressive; he had run into both on his travels. He thought he could possibly knock on the door and greet himself like a normal human, but they might shoot the door when they heard the noise. He could call out at a safe distance, but they might have ranged weapons. He could bring them a gift of sorts, but they might mug and kill him.

Sighing, Murphy stood up and decided to walk to the front, he figured there wasn't any point sitting around thinking of what to do when there were possible allies inside. When he got to the front though he spotted a young red-head breaking in.

"You know there are people in there right?" Murphy asked her. His body-language was calm, as if spotting someone breaking into a building with possibly dangerous people, and whom could be dangerous themselves, was like the sun rising in the sky. "It might not be best to break their door, first impressions are vital to one's survival." He noted there was a dog nearby, no doubt this young woman's companion. This made Murphy a little edgy as animal companions could be more dangerous than their masters.

"I'm Murphy, Murphy O'Donnell," his thick Irish accent seemed to smile itself as a smile came to Murphy's face.