America

"Ratta tatata tatata!" came a hoarse voice over the speaker, causing everyone in the old department store to sit up from their sleeping positions. It was another one of those Loonies. Insane people broke into the store's "Employee's Only" department so often, their voices over the speaker systems were not much of a surprise anymore. "I killlll youuuuuu in your sssssleeeeeep!" the voice continued, sounding more drunk and idiotic than an insane man. Fear suddenly hit Charlie like a wave hit's a surfer on a wipe-out. Had the man over the speaker been infected and went around and touched them in their sleep? Charlie gnawed on his lip and searched his suit for any signs of having been moved in his sleep. He looked fine, so he just prayed that his looks were not deceiving.

Silence came from the speakers and everything appeared to go back to normal. Everyone who had been taking refuge in the store went back to sleep, but Charlie was fully awake now. He pulled back the sleeve of his suit to reveal a watch, with a large crack down the face of the clock. Besides a cracked screen, it still worked. The time was about 5:30 A.M. It was early, but after the lunatic on the speaker, he didn't really feel in the mood to drift back into sleep. Sleep was vulnerable and he tried to be awake as long as he could.

Standing up, he quietly found his way out the broken sliding doors into the cold of the morning. The sky was beginning to lighten a bit from the dark of night, and angry looking clouds were rolling in. It looked as if Mother Nature was about to reign down on them in full fury. Outside of the store, far off in the parking lot, was the gas station that looked as if it had been torn apart by a hurricane. It was surprising all the damage panic could do.

Charlie continued walking, his destination a shoe store across the street. His shoes were broken, the soles hanging on by threads, acting more like flip flops than sneakers. When in an apocalypse, you need good shoes. When he reached the road, which used to be extremely busy because it came right off a highway, he hopped onto the chipped pavement and began walking across, the shoe store in sight. But, suddenly, a honking noise came from his right and he turned to see some idiots driving a bus, charging right at him. He screamed and leaped out of the way, only a few seconds shy from getting smashed. He came down on the pavement hard, scratching up his arms, tearing a hole in his suit.

"Where the heck did you get a bus?!" he shouted angrily after them, unheard by the drivers. He stood up and hurried to the parking lot of the shoe store. He didn't see anyone in the store, so he approached with a little less caution. He opened the door, a horrible stench hitting him. Then he noticed dead bodies lying everywhere. Yep, this was not going to be fun.



Torex walked through the streets, wearing a grey hoodie and jeans with a pair of sneakers. He looked like any other young human guy, although he wasn't. He was a humanoid robot, created as a soldier. But he was broken, now just a broken toy of the government's.

The Dome was the same temperature it had been the day before, and the day before, and so on. 70 degrees Fahrenheit, a comfortable temperature. It was sunny, the fake sky had beautiful white, puffy clouds adorning the bright blue. It was a perfectly constructed, artificial day. Humans seemed happy, riding their bikes down streets, flying cars whizzing around the city. Women walked out of hair and nail salons, immediately finding people to show. Men headed to sports games. It was amazing that they had already formed sports teams in such little time since the Dome had been created.

Torex was not like these people. He was hiding in the dome, for he was supposed to be destroyed. Luckily, for him, he had been created to look human. He was real looking, human looking, and if he covered up where his skin panels had been torn off, he would look like any twenty year old guy, despite the fact he was younger than that. He could blend in, so no one would report a rouge robot. It wasn't like the government would put out a notice that he was missing. People would panic- and this was something the government didn't want.

A man bumped into Torex, bringing him back to reality. "So sorry," he apologized to the man, who had a really strange looking haircut and a very long nose. It was the human's fault, but Torex was programmed to be polite. He wasn't about to say "Watch where you're going!", which happened to be the man's exact response. Silly Humans...

Viola watched from a tree. Dead bodies laid everywhere. A very tall man walked through the corpses. He had just been missed by a bunch of nut jobs who had stolen a bus from an old school. Viola climbed up the tree farther, and put her weight on a thin branch. It snapped and she feel to the ground. The man turned around and started to speak, but she backed up. "Get away from me!" She yelled. "And whatever you do, don't touch me!"

William walks down the sidewalk, constantly glancing around for somewhere to stay that wasn't infested with people. She slid her hands into her jean pockets, and tucks in her chin. She was only wearing a pair of sneakers with no socks, a thin pair of faded jeans, and a white tang top that was a size too big.
William spotted a shoe store, that looked as if there weren't many people there...Hopefully none at all. She hurried to it, avoiding all all contact of the eyes. She slowly opened the door, spotting a tall man, and a girl already inside.

Viola ran out of the store, screaming. "Seriously get away from me!" She turned to the woman in front of the store. "Y-you get away from me too!" Viola ran off but then tripped.

They had to drag me from the house this morning, there should be permanent claw marks in my bed frame. It feels like the sun is burning through the fragility of my skin. I wear a black blazer in this blistering heat, over a cotton black shirt and harem pants. Sunglasses hide my eyes, and a hat shades me from the sun's stealthy rays. I stand shaking still, bones shuddering against my skin, utterly uncomfortable in this huge crowd on the street. I haven't been properly out of the house in weeks and this is far too much social interaction. Between my fingers rests a cigarette, lit simply for something to hold, not to poison my lungs with. I blow poetry into the sky, only steam coming out for my efforts, but I am saved by it. With a sigh, I adjust my wait, and put the cigarette to my lips, holding death between my teeth, I spit it back out, and it comes fast and strong. The cloud heads away in the wind, to deal second hand smoke to a small child or a mother to be. There is certain dustiness to this day, and I can feel the wind hitting my shins. I do not like it. In my house there are no winds and dirt. There are far less people, and it is mostly shady, the sun cannot touch me unless I will it to.

"Oh, It was so nice to see you again Bathilda!" A loud, resonant voice flashes a sickly orange at my face, and I bury my elbows in to my eyes to cover the horrible sight.

"Shut the heck up!" I scream at the frighteningly wrinkled lady, causing a silence within the square as most gawk at me in disgust at such an unladylike young girl.

[...continuing from sample]

There wasn't time for perfection, though haphazard was Bostons flavour to heavy situations, he reacted to his surrounded position. Hands still bound he loosed Tech's instrument to floor; what appeared defeat actually diverted the bandits attention enough for Boston to smack his fists into one man's skull and yank him in front of his own body in time for Nat, (or Gun as he attempted to claim) to fire a round into Bostons new meat shield.

"You shot Biscuit!" Cried the assailant in angered shock towards Nat. Boston exploited the man's confusion chucking the injured bandit onto him and lifting up Techs instrument again.
There was twang suddenly as the weapon was wrenched from Bostons grasp, Nat had fired again and time disappeared as Boston ducked behind the cart narrowly missing a spray of bullets. "Grrr, I'm having you!" Nat fired furiously but there was a click. There was another click. "Darn it!" Nat smacked at his rifle, which appeared to be jammed.

"Only give promises you know you can keep!" Retorted Boston, who had since used the metal jagged pipe from the second bandit to release the blood stained ropes that had been coveting his wrists and in that moment lifted himself up to fully launch the bludgeon at Nat. There was yet another click, this time of the barrel kicking out a defective bullet. Nat's eyes met Bostons milliseconds before the pipe penetrated Nat's mouth, leaving him draining out, toothless and pretty much without a good portion of lips; the rifle fired off the last couple of rounds on the floor by Nat's twitching fingers.

The squashed bandit, still trapped beneath Biscuit came to in time for his own weapon, a long sickle, to be driven into his head. That just left Tech to deal with. "Argh!" Boston suddenly fell sharply to a knee, only then realizing the gash above his hip. He sat back against the cart, and stared at his wound deciding against applying a blood soaked, sweat drenched cloth. There was no "good" solider, Boston knew that. It was luck pure and simple, every time. This time he'd just not been as lucky and he'd have to pay for that. Bostons eyes anchored and the flickering lights above began to dim. Now the adrenaline was leaving Boston wounds encumbered him, passing out.

Viola ran for the nearest tree. The man and woman scared her. The sight of anyone scared her. They could have both been touched for all she knew. She had seen it. It had been in her own home, she had watched people die of this. People she loved. People she didn't even know. Her father had one of the first cases of it, and she was scared. She didn't want it to happen to her. She scurried up another tree and sat there.

Sore light soaked through into Bostons eyes as they licked open. "Argh!" Boston yelped, startled as a crude liquid was poured over his stomach; the liquid logically contained alcohol but it could easily have been paint stripper. "Wasn't the plan NOT to wake me again?" Boston complained as he clutched his wound, realizing Tech was tending to him.

"Now now, lets not jump the gun," Tech jittered, "I'm not really a fighter, you may have noticed. I need you now as much as you need me." The goggled man unveiled bright white cloth from his persons and attempted to wrap it around Boston.

"I'm not you're boyfriend, I can dress my wounds myself," Boston exclaimed flicking Tech's fidgety fingers away. "I won't be easy to eat on my feet, so if you're trying to save me for later I'd think of something else." muttered Boston after lashing the cloth quite rough around his waist. "And which unfortunate did you eat and "acquire" this off?" indicating to his new dress wound which was now quite firmly in place. Tech ignored the stab at him instead chose to sit next to dead Biscuit. "Are you...?" Boston began as Tech lowered his scarf and bit into Biscuits arm. He had to admire the "waste not" attitude instilled in the cannibal but that was where the admiration started and stopped.

Reaching out to the left, Boston grabbed the bottle Tech had used previously to disinfect his side tear with and poured a gentle stream over each wrist. The liquid stung and left a burning sensation behind; looking at the bottle Boston saw that it actually was paint stripper. Tech had meanwhile had his fill of Biscuit and was proceeding to cut up parts and package them in a pack he'd taken from the cart. Ignoring Tech, Boston gingerly lifted himself against the cart and saw that his jacket and Beethoven were there. It was time to move on Boston thought.

"You're not in a mountain," Tech absently spoke as he'd finished ravaging the four other bandits. "No, we're beneath some town... catacombs, that's what they call them," Tech was rambling more than trying to inform. Boston vaguely recollected reaching a wooden paneled house but his head still pulsed from the altercation earlier. He figured these tunnels must adjoin a good few houses.

"Well if you're done looting, parts and otherwise, we'll part ways." Boston said jolting as he snapped his nose back into place. A life for a life seemed fair.

"You can't...That is, please don't leave me," Tech pleaded, "I was in a bad place with those guys but I can be better." Tech lifted his glasses up revealing a blue and a green eye. "I'm useful too, they don't call me Tech for grins, it's not a funny name" Tech babbled nervously working up a case for himself. It was a disgusting thing, to see a man fall so low; cannibalism was something Boston hadn't advocated but he knew a lot risked it in the pandemic as food was short, he couldn't however stand a guy falling to pieces like that.

"Look, understand I'm not your babysitter," Boston began already regretting the compassion he was bestowing on Tech, "You try killing anyone who isn't killing us - you and I will have problems.. Yes your bandit friends are fine to eat." Boston shook his head, why was this a good idea? Clearly it wasn't but there'd been enough death today already.
Both men continued past the cart and along the catacomb, Beethoven strapped to Bostons back. Boston began humming Louis Armstong's "You Rascal You" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9jM9Q4LNVdk) as they walked, descending past the flickering orange and yellow gas lights into darkness.

William sighs quietly, flipping page by page in the journal.
"Aha."
She murmurs, staring at a certain page. She'd remember this journal any day. It was hers.
On the page, there was a plain drawing of some sneakers. Willie than recalls the memory in her mind.

"I ain't going, mate."
William scowled. She laid in her bed, which had blue sheets and a warm, comfy turquoise colored blanket. Her pillows were furry, and white with the outlines of black. Her Mother scowled,
"Then how do you expect us to get you shoes, Willie dear?"
"I'll draw them,"
William responded. Her older brother, Richard walked in.
"Mom, when are we going? I'm getting bored with William's idiotic attempts to avoid all public contact. I think it's ridiculous."
"Shut up, mate."
William snapped.
"And I prefer the name Willie."
She added on. He made an overly dramatic sigh, then walked out of the room. While they had been bickering, William had been drawing her sketch of the sneakers she had desired.
"Here."
William scowled, handing the journal to her Mother. She sighed, then went out of the room. William stood up, and stared out of the window. Suddenly, the T.V flashed on.
"ALERT;ALERT; THERE HAS BEEN A VIRU----"
The power went out. William shivered, then starred out the window again. She watched her family leave.
William paused for a second.
Perhaps I could go outside..?
She thought, running out of her room, to the front door. She slammed it open, then ran after the car.
"Wait, up!"
She yelled. The car screeched to a stop. William opened the door to the front passenger seat, to see Richard sitting there.
"O-U-T."
She instructed. He laughed,
"Mom, woul--" "Move."
Antoinette (William's Mother) cut him off. She jumped into the car, and snatched the journal out of her Mom's hands.
They reached the shoe store in a matter of time.
William walked in, looking at the shoes.
"These."
She murmured, handing them to Antoinette.
Richard scuffed.
"How do you let her treat you like a--"
William punched him in the gut.
"Cram it, mate!"
Suddenly, someone burst into the store.
"It's here! It's here!"
"Let's get out of here..."
Kenneth, her other brother mumbled. William dropped her journal, and ran out...

Charlie took in a deep breath, trying to ignore the horrid stench of death as he walked through the store. Obviously someone with the Touch had been hiding out in here and had infected the others in the store. Charlie had no idea if you could touch a body who had died of the virus and come out alive, but he made sure he tried to avoid them.

As he walked to the men's section, he looked for a size nine. For such a small boy, he had very large feet that didn't seem to fit in with the rest of his body. He usually couldn't find clothes small enough to fit him and couldn't find shoes big enough. But, to his luck, they had a pair of Evergreen colored sneakers with white soles. He slipped off his broken shoes and shove them on, trotting around in them. They fit and were comfortable enough, so he just dropped his old shoes and headed back to the front.

Suddenly, a hand wrapped around his leg, which was thankfully covered by his suit. He screamed and kicked, nailing what he had assumed was a dead body in the head. The body, which turned out to be very much alive, let out a horrible scream, his iron grip not loosening on Charlie's leg. "Get off me!" Charlie cried, fear lacing every word. He had just had a near death experience with a bus- he didn't need this!

The body was lying in the aisle, Charlie straight across from the door. So, Charlie shoved the display shelf holding all the shoes, knocking it over onto the man, who's grip loosened once he was crushed. Charlie felt horrible, but was quickly distracted when a voice called to him.

"Get away from me! And whatever you do, don't touch me!"

Charlie looked up. It was a girl, who was standing by the door. His eyes widened. Charlie didn't even get to speak before the girl freaked out. "Seriously, get away from me!" she continued, only to back out the door, almost bumping into another woman who was watching the scene. She quickly continued freaking out, ordering the woman to also keep her distance as she hurried away.

"I'm not a over reactor, but I'd appreciate it if you would stay away from me too, okay, mate?" the other woman continued. Charlie nodded.

"I was planning on keeping my distance," he reassured her. She continued whatever she had come to do, noticing a notebook that had been lying on the ground. He decided it was time to go. "Careful, some of these buggers are alive," he said, nodding back at the shelf he had tipped. And, with that, he headed for the door. Once out, he began walking to the department store, this time looking both ways before crossing the road. But, before he could step onto the cracked pavement for a second time, a familiar hoarse voice called out to him.

"Can you spare a dollar?" it asked. Charlie turned around, seeing the same man who had given him the rabbit's foot he wore around his neck. Charlie ran over to him.

"You!" he cried, and the man smiled. Charlie tried to sound angry, but he was much more curious than that.

"Go to the catacombs, Charlie," the man said, barely audible this time, seeming much older than the last time they had met, right before the outbreak.

"What catacombs? And how do you know my-"

"You don't understand, boy. I'm saving you. Go to the catacombs. It's just a few miles from here. Take the old interstate and get off when you reach the second exit," he whispered. Charlie turned to look at the interstate, which went up into the air, held up by nothing. He figured it had once been stable, but now he wondered it it could even hold the weight of him, who barely reached a hundred pounds.

"You're a Loonie, aren't you," he groaned, turning back to where the man had been sitting, but he was now gone. "So what, you're Batman now?" He had never actually seen a "Batman" movie, for they were almost ancient, but he knew plenty about the legend and how he had a habit of disappearing in the middle of conversations.

Charlie wanted to ignore the man, go back to the department grocery store. But, for some reason, he wanted to know what the man had meant. So, even though he was terrified, completely unsure, he headed the direction of the old highway.

[OOC: Sorry it's so long! Charlie had a lot to say today. :) Btw, the old man was from my sample post if you were confused.]

[ OOC: No problem :) ]

William looks up, as she hears the man's words,
"Careful, some of these buggers are alive,"
"Acknowledged."
She murmured, glancing at the bodies.
"I'm out of here."
William whispered to herself. She carefully stepped over the bodies out of the shoe store. An idea sprang into Willie's mind. She ran for her family's car, which was still parked at the store. She dug around in her pockets, searching for the keys that she still held. Finding them, a smirk appeared on William's face. No one would dare try to go near the Walker mansion. She ran towards the car, then shoved the door open, jumping in.
She stepped on the gas pedal, and speed towards home.

Viola leaned against the tree, waiting for most of the people to leave. She looked around, then jumped from the tree to a pole, and pulled herself up to the stop of the stoplights, She crawled across the railing, then jumped onto the roof of an apartment building. She jumped onto a few other buildings before reaching her rooftop camp. You could never be too safe, and she was probably one of the smaller survivors, and she was light enough so she could balance better. She grabbed a bruised apple from her bag and started to eat it. She hated going back to the ground. It was full of bodies that could still carry the disease and transmit it to you. It mainly happened with like kids, like her sister. Viola was going back to rural areas as soon as she could. She knew her old house was ransacked, and probably full of dead bodies now. At least, that was the situation a few months ago. She knew an old gas station where it had non-spoil food, and no one had really found it yet. Perfect.

"Shut the heck up!"

It seemed to echo through the square, even alerting the ex-military machine. A silence fell over the town, but noise quickly restarted, voices drowning out the ruckus. People didn't seem alarmed, but Torex was confused. Who was that? he pondered. His data chip, implanted in his head, responded.

"Citizen 09285, October Sinnet," it said in a robotic voice in his head. "A bit of a shut in, if our information is correct. Age fifteen."

"Was she being attacked?" he thought.

"Not to my knowledge," his data chip said, as if it was actually a live being. But Torex pondered it. If she was indeed a shut in, he calculated her chances of reporting him to the authorities were smaller than any extrovert. Torex could ask her if there was a RPDC, Robot Preservation and Defense Center, an organization against the destruction of broken robots, anywhere around. He would use his own GPS to find it's location, but it was broken, along with his tracking device and skin panels. Torex was unaware that the RPDC had died out when the Touch hit, and there was no operatives in the Dome. All were dead.

He began to squeeze his way through the crowd of people, trying to avoid bumping into anyone. Towards the center of the square he saw a girl. A label appeared under her, thanks to his very helpful data chip, reading "October Sinnet". He approached, what he would say and how to say it with the least amount of desperation in it already perfectly calculated and planned out in his mind. Once he reached her, he cleared his throat, something he didn't need to do, but something to make him seem human.

"Pardon, but would you have any idea where the RPDC is?" he asked, sounding completely emotionless. It was a quite robotic skill of his, but he hoped it would work.

[OOC: The italics mean it's spoken in a robotic voice, something I'll do in Torex's posts.]

William screeched to a stop when she reached the Walker mansion, that still remained untouched. She slammed open the car door, and yanked out the keys. Before she bolted to the porch, she kicked the door closed, and made sure she pressed the lock button on the keys about five times. William's family was security crazy, and for the first time, Willie was thankful for that. She put in the password, then let it scan her finger print. The screen was cracked, but it still worked. A electronic voice then announced, Welcome W-W-William Jor-r-r-rdan Walker. It was also slightly broken. A small click was heard, as William pushed open the door.
The smell of fresh lavender filled the air, that same scent her Father overused. She slammed the door shut, and ran up the stairs, forgetting to lock the door. William darted through the hallway, and shoved the door to her room open with a loud thump.
She flew through the dressers, making sure to put on black long gloves before touching the clothes, just for safety. She spied some slightly wrinkled dark blue pants, a black t-shirt that was remarkably comfortable, and her gaze shifted to her favorite combat boots.
"Perfect."
She murmured.

Viola looked around in her bag so she could take inventory. She suddenly touched something cold. She picked it up. Her father's revolver. She only kept it for both memory and show. She had been threaten many times, and holding this gun out was a good repellent. She wouldn't ever use it, she only had two bullets, and had no use for them. She sighed and put it back. SHe had been feeling weird, and was probably started to go mental.

Viola climbed across a pipe to another building. She climbed down a ladder onto the ground. Then she ran to a row of cars. She was surprised no one had taken them yet, then again, it was hard to find keys. Sometimes people who didn't have pockets put in under their car, or behind the license plate. She knew because the roof was a good lookout spot. She checked three cars before finally finding some keys under the car. She unlocked the car and climbed in.

She looked around the car. "Crap. It's a manual," She muttered. She had never driven manual. She sighed and turned the engine on. She randomly shifted and started to drive. It made a weird sound, but it was good enough. She then remembered that she had put the map in the grocery store awhile away. "Crap. Well, I might as well go in circles," She kept driving, then suddenly, the car started to shake a bit. "Huh?' Viola pulled over. She looked at the gas gauge. "Crap," She muttered. She climbed out of the car. She looked around. Nothing. It started to rain. Viola groaned and turned around to open he door. It was locked. She reached in her pocket and searched for the keys. "Crap. They're in the ignition!"

William, who already changed into the new clothes, trotted down the stairs. She walked over to the old fridge. It hadn't been long before her family moved to the Dome, so she hoped it wasn't spoiled. Ever since that trip to the shoe store when the 'Touch' was first announced, the power remained out. William saw nothing in the fridge, so she searched the whole kitchen. She spotted a bag of sour cream and onion chips, and a water bottle that had the wrapper half peeled off. She took both items, and rushed to the attic. The mansion had four floors. The basement, the level floor, the middle floor, then the attic. She looks around, and smiles, spotting a notebook.
"I knew I would leave one in here,"
William chuckles. She picks it up, and looks around once again. She walks over to the corner of the attic, and picks up a small #2 pencil. Some of the color had been chipped off, and the eraser had looked as if it were ripped off.
"Guess it's gonna haft to do."
Willie sighs. She sits down, and starts to draw what she imagined the inside of the Dome to look like. She hadn't desired to go there because of her family, but just to not have the feeling of nervousness, anxiety, the small thing bugging you that there's that small chance your infected, that shiver that always lingers besides you.
William sighs silently, then continues to draw.

Charlie stood at the bottom of the highway, staring at it, terrified it might collapse at any moment. Charlie had made a run to the grocery store before he had left. He wasn't that stupid to leave unprepared. He mainly had been in the camping section, getting a very nice back-pack, a rope, shoe-laces, a water bottle, medicine, a bag of cheesy popcorn, an Exact-O-Knife (made for cutting cardboard, not stabbing), and most importantly a flashlight.

Charlie made sure the helmet to his suit was screwed on tightly before he gingerly tapped his foot onto the highway. It didn't make a sound or a move, so he pressed his weight down. Still nothing, so he slowly stepped onto it fully, and when he was sure it seemed safe, he began to slowly walk up the road.

About 45 minutes passed by until he reached his problem. There was a section of the highway that had broken off, leaving about a five foot gap between this part of the highway and the next. Charlie bit his lip. "I think I can jump," he reassured himself, backing up. He took off with a running start and leaped across, slamming into the next part of the highway, causing the elevated road to shake just a bit. "Holy crap," he whispered, terrified. But, the bridge-like highway quickly stilled, sending him carefully on his way.

An hour or so later, Charlie saw a sign saying the exit was just up ahead, the second one he had seen that day. He quickly crossed over into the exiting lane and walked down the ramp that curved down onto a road. The road stretched out past his line of sight, along it a few fast food places, restaurants, and gas stations, but mainly houses. It seemed like a ghost town- no one was there. Charlie stopped and crossed his arms. It wasn't like he had expected a big sign reading "CATACOMBS HERE, CHARLIE!", but a the old Loonie could have been more specific. Grumpily, he began making his way down the street, for he had come too far to turn back, plus the fact he was terrified of the highway.

Charlie wasn't very far down the road when he noticed a house that looked like it had just recently been broken into, for the lights were on in one of the rooms. Charlie got a horrible feeling that this was his "CATACOMBS HERE, CHARLIE!" sign. He bit his lip, conflicted. He could go in, listen to the man who was possibly insane, or run back to the grocery store. He hated to even think it was possible, but what if the guy was sane and he really was trying to save Charlie?

"Darn it, Charlie," he cursed himself as he headed onto the porch of the house. Very quietly, he grabbed the handle of the door, which he found was unlocked, and turned it, giving the door a gentle nudge that made a squeaking sound. He bit his lip. If anyone was in the house, Charlie was pretty much dead. But, no one attacked him, so he curiously looked around. It looked like whoever had robbed the house wasn't after supplies, because when he searched the kitchen pantries were full of food. But, Charlie was, so he stuffed a bag of cookies, some almonds, and some honey into his bag. He pulled out a fork and a butterknife from the drawer for self defense, but he still rather had the Exact-O-Knife for a weapon than those, so he put them back. Then, a bright idea hit him as he quietly tiptoed upstairs into the master bedroom. He searched the room, desperately, but his searched turned up empty. There were no guns in the house and he was almost sure of it. Why would there be? The family living here would have taken it, if not the looters.

Before Charlie went downstairs, he nabbed some deodorant, shampoo, and body wash from the bathroom. He couldn't remember the last time he was able to take a shower, so if he found some way to relieve himself of stench, he would willingly.

Hurrying back downstairs, his search for some sort of catacombs a failure, he was about to leave. He was walking down the hallway to the door, when he tripped on a loose floor board. On further observation, the board was downright out of place, overlapping another. He wedged his fingers under the loose board and pulled, a small hole in the floor revealed to him. It was pitch black, so Charlie pulled out his new flashlight and shone it down into the dark, revealing it was about a six foot drop. He gulped. The catacombs were real. He had been praying they weren't, but here they were. Charlie remembered the tales of catacombs in the ancient city Paris, skulls hung everywhere like they were decorations. They were practically homes for the dead. And if any child believes in monsters in their closets and under their beds, this would have been their worst nightmare.

"You're an idiot," he told himself, about two seconds before he leaped down into the hole, crashing into the darkness.

William finishes her picture. In her mind, the dome had phoney skies, it was always the perfect temperature, there was no rain, and there were also perfect houses, and there was no money. Willie scowls,
"They're afraid to face the real world's problems."
She had never admitted how much she wanted to get in, though. She stands up, and takes a nice sip of the water.
Suddenly, the doorbell rings.
"Uh oh.."
William mumbles.
"PACKAGE"
The voice shouts. She shivers,
"Ssssuuurrreee...."
Willie opens the floor door to the attic, and lands on the carpet to the master bedroom. She goes to her room, and opens her 'journal drawer' which she kept all her notebooks. She dug through it and found her secret gun. She had the weirdest phobias, which she never told, but simply drew them. No one had ever suspected. She crept down the stairs and to the door,
"Leave the package at the door, mate!"
William yelled. She leaned right next to the door, ready to shot if anyone tried to get in. She wasn't taking any chances. There was no response, but a fist breaking through the window next to the door. She immediately shot the hand, and backed up from the glass. Some had cut her when it fell.
"You want more? COME AND GET IT!"
Screeched William, who pulled the trigger again. Nothing happened.
"Crud, crud, crud, CRUD!"
She shrieked.
Willie just realized she left the door unlocked, and she was out of bullets.

Viola kept walking along, looking for somewhere to go. She spotted a mansion. A man was grabbing through a broken window. Usually, Viola would figure he was just trying to raid it, but screams from the inside told her that wasn't the case. She walked closer until she was only a few feet behind him.
Viola grabbed her revolver and aimed it. "HEY! Go away or I WILL shoot!" The man suddenly turned around. Viola kept the gun trained on him. "MOVE IT!" HE froze. Viola ran for him and punched his windpipe.
Viola kept her revolver by her side, just in case. You could never be too carful. If he had allies, she needed a threat.

William heard a voice from outside, that sounded as if it were helping her. She noticed that instead of the arm that was stuck in the glass reaching out, it stood still, and she took it as the chance to reload her rifle. She ran to the half bathroom, which she remembered had a medicine cabinet with some ammo in it. She quickly reloaded the gun, with her jittery hands.
She darted towards the door, and stood quietly. William wasn't sure what to do, the man was right in front of the door, on the other hand, that other person probably would appreciate some help.
She decides, and kicks open the door, slamming into the man's body. Quickly, she joins the other person's side, but making sure she's about two feet away, right before she realizes it was the girl from earlier.
"Ello, mate!"
William yells, aiming her rifle at the man
"Leave, or suffer meh gun!"
She snaps at him, sweat trickling down her forehead.

Viola took a deep breath.
"You alright?" She asked the woman. She nodded.
Viola pulled up her hood. "Thanks for the assist, but I better find a shelter before it pours. I don't need anything to damage my supplies. Not that I have a lot," She mumbled.
She put her revolver in her bag and wiped the blood away from the cut he had given her. She hated broken glass cutting her. It felt really painful, but she would just let it heal.
She started down the path to the street.

"Wait!"
William yelled.
"You can stay here. This usually never happens. It's probably because he might have saw me come in... point is, it's really rare. Anyways, its nice here. No corpses, lots of food... Come'on mate!"
She trails off. Willie couldn't let her just walk off into the open. She was pretty sure they both knew it was dangerous. She ran after the girl, holding her arm up to block the rain from landing on her.
"Trust me, mate. That's my family's mansion, and no one in there has had the touch. If so, I'd be dead myself. The name's William Walker, preferably Willie. Or Jordan, if you would rather."
She panted. Brushing the wet brown hair out of her face, Willie held out her hand to shake.
"You don't have to if you don't want to."

Viola shrugged. "Why not. I'm Viola," Viola gave William a strong handshake.
Viola walked in.
"Nice place you got here," Viola plopped down on a piece of furniture. placed her bag down.
She opened her bag and fumbled around, looking for a band-aid or something.
She instead pulled out a family photo. It all came rushing back to her.
Her mother dyeing, her father dying, her little sister, who touched his hand and got infected. Soon she was the only one left.
She kept staring at the the picture. It scared her to know that everything that she loved could be destroyed in a matter of seconds. Then again, what did she love? Everything had fallen away. She didn't know if it was a good thing or a bad thing that she didn't have anything to love, so she had nothing to lose. She couldn't take her eyes off the picture. Everyone was together, even her Mom. Everything had changed in a day. It only took a day. She rubbed her temples. She was probably going mental at this pint.

"You alright?"
William asked, acknowledging her stare. She sat down next to Viola, and looked at the picture. She sighed,
"Ahh, I see... Your family got infected. Let's look at the bright side, eh mate? Your alive...You have shelter, and plenty of food, a companion, much better life than others."
She patted her on the back.
"Try not to think about it. My family is in the Dome, those lucky idiots. I've never loved them. Never loved anyone, actually. I would be in the Dome too, but I had a cold when my family got in, so I was rejected. Come'on, mate, I'll show ya around."
William gets up, and offers her hand to Viola.

Viola silently took her hand and stood up. She followed William around the house. It was amazing to Viola, who had grown up in a small town. She couldn't help thinking about the Dome. She wondered what it was like. She couldn't believe that William's family had just left her. Fending for yourself was hard work, and her family just went on without another thought. Viola then told herself to shut up and enjoy the tour of the house. "Yep, I'm going mental, She thought.