Realistic or Modern Afterlife (ic)

[S n o w]

You're escorted through Sanctuary's North Gate by three armed guards. One or two might feel pity for you, but they never say anything. You're a criminal after all, and criminals don't belong in Sanctuary. Once you're outside the guards leave, and you watch them close the Gate, abandoning you to the wild.[FONT]​

Day 1
June 1st, 20XX. 10:00 a.m
85˚F​

​

 

[S n o w]

Dalia Acadia​

There were only two things left that Dalia owned. A broken walkie-talkie clipped to her belt and a handgun that she never thought she would have to use. Her clothes and the rest of her rations had surely been confiscated by now, her little apartment cleaned out and sold to a hardworking, upstanding citizen of her former home.

She was homeless, in more ways than she could possibly count. It was only her and the rest of the batch of criminals that had been tossed out of Sanctuary without a chance to say goodbye.

Dalia stared at the gate behind her. She was guilty, and that was that. It had been a mistake to sell ration cards to her father's coworker, whose begging and pleading still left a bad taste in her mouth. He'd been desperate when he pulled a knife on her, and even more desperate to get back at her when he walked into the police station and pointed them her way. Dalia wouldn't pretend she wasn't out here because of her own actions.

At least her former home let her have a moment to reflect on the fact that her life plan was in pieces. The patrols had lured most of the zombies to the South Gate, giving them a head start. Dalia looked at the gun again. She didn't know where to begin with it. She knew how to use one, knew to aim for the head and not to hesitate, but she'd never used one on another person.

It didn't matter. Dalia had a rough plan of what she was going to do forming in her head. It was time to move forward and stop looking back. "Hey, I'm Dalia. We should get out of the open and find shelter," she said, facing the other criminals. It was easier said than done, since they were in a grassland. Though she could see a tree line, not too far away. She could hope it had shelter. "At least until we decide what our next move is."

What she didn't notice was the zombie hidden in the grass, crawling towards them.

Coriander Danidify Damafaud Trappy ​

 

[Coriander]

Laef Maltic
Lost​

location: North Gate Entrance

mood: Mixed, but aggravated

with: Everyone

Even if the sentence hung tight over his head and he knew he had done it, he felt no guilt over it. He doubted you could count his deed as a theft, seeing as it was his in the first place. It puzzled him over the way people thought that just because he liked them that they could touch his things, acting as if they had the authority to do as they please. But things were already said and done, his hunters knife sitting snugly in its sheath at his side. Its value to others meant nothing to him, because to him it was worth the boot out the door.

It was hot, the air made Laef consider taking of his coat. But his stubbornness would never allow for him to give into mere weather. The group before him left a few emotions to look over. Even if they were criminals, he doubted they really did anything too severe seeing as how his reason for exile was something to scoff at. The first to speak was a young curly haired woman. Shelter did sound like a solid plan, seeing as sitting in an open field was only good for star gazing, which was something he'd rather do on his death bed as a final comfort.

"Im Laef, but I feel like introductions should come later. If you have a plan then lead the way." What a drag, at least she assumed that they were going to stick together. Even though Laef hated crowds and the people that came with them, he wasnt stupid. More power came with groups, both for protection and general survival. The vast fields of summer grass tied his attention to the horizon, keeping his eyes glued to the spots of tree's where they would surely head as their next destination.

 

[Damafaud]

Prakoso Wiraksa
North Gate Entrance
Moving on; Pissed off
Interaction: Coriander
Mention: S n o w Danidify Trappy​

He was pissed off.

Mostly, he was furious toward the f*cking Sanctuary for kicking him off for something like getting someone in their head. It wasn't even his fault the old geezer died! How was he supposed to know the bartender had a concussion several days before? A small part of his brain was cursing his own luck over this.

Pra glanced back at the towering wall behind him. Would he miss anyone inside? ...nah. Pops would be glad with the trouble child gone. Mother only cared about Aditya. Aditya? That cry baby probably would miss him, but it ain't his problem anymore. He couldn't return even if he wanted to. Only thing that remind him of home was Morning, the bat he held in his hand. Feeling the coldness of the steel, Pra gripped the bat harder. Yeah. The same bat that got him kicked out was also the only thing he could rely on from then after. Pretty ironic.

Other criminals had started talking about looking for shelter. Good going. They must be some badass criminal members that he could completely rely on. NOT.

"What the hell..." Pra muttered to himself in disbelief, a scowl forming on his face.

Was he seriously the oldest one there? Good god someone choke him with a gun and feed him to the ants they were a group of young men that didn't know milk from cheese. He seriously doubted how they could live. Well, whatever. At least none of them were bawling. Oh, the dark girl also started taking the lead so at least they were on to something.

"Oi, you. Lead the way," he gave Laef (Laef? Lef? Left? Whatever)'s back a kick forward "thinking of making a girl pushing at the front? What are you, a playboy?"

Being a criminal, Pra fit his part well. His eyes radiated hostility toward anyone that looked at him. Morning, the bat he held with his right hand, only solidified that image. They never gave him the chance to clean it before he was exiled, so a dry crust of blood could still be seen at the ede of Morning.

 

[Danidify]

Michael Eastford

Location: North Gate Entrance | Interacting with: Damafaud | Mentions: Trappy S n o w Coriander

He was pissed off, too.

A shovel, a handgun with one bullet and a one-way ticket straight into a living hell is what he received for standing up for his loudmouthed disgrace of a family. By now he had lost count of the dozen times he had warned his parents over and over to keep their mouths shut. He agreed with their thoughts and he had to bite his own tongue far too many times, but that seemed to be for nothing.

Propaganda. Inciting hateful f*cking propaganda. It was almost surreal how that was punished in such a radical way. Then again, life wasn't all that fair these days in general.

Michael, quite frankly, did not want to go. He did not want to leave Sanctuary nor his family behind, but there was not much of a choice now and especially not after he delivered quite a nasty blow against one of the morons that had the guts to tell such bullshit to the 'police'. It probably didn't make him look any better, but there was no other way for him to release his anger at that point.

So now he was walking out of the gates alongside several others that he barely even knew with a bruised face and a dumb shovel to protect himself with. Needless to say, his mood wasn't the best.

The moment they reached, Michael turned around to offer a not-so-friendly gesture to the guards as a final goodbye. HIs blood was boiling, but common sense prevented him from running right at those idiots. His mind was quickly distracted anyway due to the voices of others and the mere fact they were now actually in zombie territory. It was unsettling, to say the least.

Michael listened loosely to what was said, his mouth remaining shut as he looked around the area only to observe some blonde idiot working his dirty feet into another boy's back for no good reason. His words frustrated Michael even more, his hands balling into fists as he tensed up.

"How about you keep your f*cking hands off him and take the lead yourself, dumbass." Michael bluntly responded, his emotions quite clearly speaking instead of his troubled mind. He was going to let some dumb idiot's antics get them killed in the first few minutes they were out of the gates. That's just not how things would go.

His stern eyes and annoyed expression rested carefully on the taller man for quite some time, waiting to see how he would react. He hated people who acted like that, so his retaliation to his actions was nothing more but natural.

code by Ri.a

 

[S n o w]

Dalia Acadia​

"Hey!" Dalia snapped at the two starting to bicker beside her. "We have bigger things to worry about right now. If you want to yell at each other, do it later, when we're not out in the open."

She glanced at the instigator of all this, the older blond who thought he was... defending her honor? Protecting her lady-hood? She barely stopped her eyes from rolling. "Quit being an ass. If we're going to survive, we need to be able to work together."

At least that was part of Dalia's plan. Keep the group together until she had enough supplies to survive on her own, which by the looks of it, wouldn't be anytime soon. A group provided more eyes looking out for the zombies, less chance of her being snuck up on.

Dalia turned away from them. "Let's head north, towards the-AHHHHHHH!" Something grabbed Dalia's ankle and yanked hard. She fell with a scream. A few zombies scratching aimlessly at the wall turned at the sound, shuffling in their direction.

Dalia kicked at the thing holding her ankle and it flopped to the side, its legs broken and useless as it tried to grab her again. Dalia scrambled back and pulled out her gun. Her hands were shaking so bad she couldn't hold it steady. One bullet. She only had one bullet. Did she really want to waste it on a zombie that couldn't even get up?

She could hear the growing tide of moans around them as the zombies she attracted neared. Dalia pulled out her walkie-talkie, armed and ready to hit the nearest thing with it. She looked at the two that had been fighting before, since they were lucky enough to have actual weapons, as the crawling zombie grabbed at Laef next.

Coriander Danidify Damafaud Trappy ​

 

[Trappy]

Ilya Leichhardt
Ilya had never thought it would end up like this - tossed out of the Sanctuary with nothing more than a set of clothes, her entrenching equipment and a pistol loaded with a single round. The girl was confused, lost, frustrated, with one particular question circling back and forth in her mind ever since the moment of her arrest, seemingly haunting her - What had she done wrong? No one would tell her and her pleads for innocence would be met with deaf ears. It all seemed as if fate, once again, had taken a move to drag her down into the puddle of catastrophe, and this time, it seemed as if fate had succeeded in doing so.

Ilya stood idly as the guards pushed her out and the gates of the Sanctuary closed itself before her eyes, and with it, all routes are shut off. Having been employed in the Sanctuary's security force, she was no stranger to the nightmarish dangers of these wild lands, and now without the walls of the Sanctuary to shield her pitiful life, Ilya saw no hope nor chances. She had been tossed out as a feast for the 'creatures' lurking in these corners, helplessly, like a mere tool that had extended its purpose. The young girl trembled as fear and anxiety washed over her petite body like an ice-cold wave. Why does this always happen?

"Oi, you. Lead the way, thinking of making a girl pushing at the front? What are you, a playboy?"

The conversation brewing between the exiled snapped Ilya back to reality. Gathered herself, the girl set herself focused on the matter at hand. Right, focus! No time for panicking! As she stood and watched, it seemed the debate was about whoever was leading the group. There was a handful of them, and they're in the open, it was the right choice that they should move. As she had been trained in combat with the militia forces, Ilya was ready to volunteer, but just before she could, another girl in the group suddenly fell and yelped as one of those things grabbed her leg. While she was quick to escape its grip and lucky enough to be unharmed, it was clear that they urgently needed to move.

"Shit, they're in the grass!" The girl alarmed her fellows, just as she spotted another creeping up and grabbed someone else, Laef, one of the guys this time. Raising her combat spade, she struck down and hit the creature's reaching arms, completely severing them in one decisive strike. Wasting no time, Ilya's eyes scanned the group to check on the rest of her companions, and scouted in the direction the girl, identified as Dalia, had called out.

"North, is it? I'll take the lead!" She called out to the rest of the exiled as she started moving first. "They must've heard the scream, we better move fast!"

S n o w Danidify Coriander Damafaud

 

[Coriander]

Laef Maltic
Lost​

location: Heading North

mood: Alert, Startled, Shook

with: Everyone

With the kick to his back he felt himself stumble forward a bit. A knocked a fair bit of air out of him, making Laef hasp. Before he could respond, another persons angry voice cut through the tension, adding more hostility.

"How about you keep your f*cking hands off him and take the lead yourself, dumbass."

He was grateful for the act of defense seeing as a battle with words was not a strong point of his. He could probably start a fight with fists, but in the end he would not be the one to finish it. Just as he was about to say something yet again, it was interrupted by Dalia, who was a voice of reason amongst the cluttered chaos. Her lecture was cut short with a yell being forced out of her, the origin rooted at her ankle. A walker had taken hold and dragged her down. It didnt last long though, seeing as she gave a swift kick to its face, giving space between her and the threat. As she pulled out her gun Laef cold only feel the cold tips of anxiety creep up his spine. Gun shots were loud, and if her yell hadnt gotten hold of the nearest hoards then he was positive the bang of a gun shot would.

Though this time the being of decay chose a new victim, reaching toward Laef with a shriveled hand. But things were happening fast, and now all that he could her was the thumping of blood. Reaction time was slow, luckily a swift swing shot down before him and the limb that had reached for his legs were now separated from its primary host. Another member of the group stood before them, looking over the current party.

"North, is it? I'll take the lead!"

Well then, no complaints here. As she quickened her pace toward the tree line they had previously mentions, Laef followed behind, taking extra care to leave space between him and the hyper aggressive blond. Honestly, at this point all he could really want was a good nights rest, though the way things were looking it wouldnt be very likely.

 

[Damafaud]

Prakoso Wiraksa
North Gate Entrance
Moving on; Pissed off
Interaction: Danidify , Trappy
Mention: S n o w , Coriander​

White Hair seemed to be in a bad mood. Yeah, he'll call him White Hair from now. Did he hit a good nerve? His remark --and the mere thought -- of him being a leader led to a smirk. Him? Leading? Pra would accept the opportunity with open arms but he didn't know any other way of leading other than being tyrannical. Was the boy eager to be a dog? As much as he loved having slaves, keeping the hierarchy would be a pain the the ass. Pass. Time for sophistry.

"Ha? When did I put my hand on him? What, your family wears boots over their hands and gloves on their feet? Cause I just kicked, not punched." Pra kept his chin slightly upward, resulting in him looking down at White Hair. What, he thought just because he could swear he would give him face? Not a fucking chance.

Before White Hair could retort, the dark girl tried to intervene. 'Tried' is the keyword cause a zombie grabbed her ankle before she could finish. Did the dark girl just say they need to work together to survive? Seeing how she had spendidly got caught of-fguard and attract attention of nearby zombies spendidly, Pra made a note to recommend her for 'bait' position in the future.

The zombie changed its target to Laef- screw it he'll call him Teen until he didn't look so easy to die. If Teen was eaten that would be just fine and dandy for him, but his scream would draw more attention.

Before Pra could move in and smash its head to pulp, the short girl hit the zombie with her spade, stopping its assault with a decisive blow. A whistle escaped his lips. Pra's attitude toward others were simple. It went default on mild hostility to those he felt nothing toward and helpful to those he respected. The short girl just cleaved a zombie with her shovel. If that ain't bad ass he didn't know what that is.

"Nice hit, girl," he complimented her as he followed her close by the front with Morning in hand. Venting frustration on corpses sounded morbid but moving corpse was worse. At least with him helping in the front, the rest won't get it so badly if they worth any salt. While he prepared to attack any zombie he got into range, a question suddenly passed through his mind.

"Oi, girl. What's your name?"

If the girl gonna lead him, he would be better off knowing her name. The others? Nah. Code names are enough for them until they prove otherwise.

 

[S n o w]

Dalia Acadia​

Dalia, with all her plans and ideas for the group, was left scrambling after the others. She didn't think as she ran north toward the line of trees, driven by adrenaline and the desperate to need to survive.

She didn't even register that they were headed in the direction she suggested. Dalia had plenty of time to paint a mental image of what she would have to do to live outside of Sactuary, but being here, in the middle of the growling and guttural noises the growing number of zombies were making at them?

It was different. She was shaking. She couldn't look back. She could only think of how she stood there, and looked to the others to help Laef instead of getting in between him and the zombie herself. Dalia wanted to throw up. A handful of the zombies, ones who must've died recently--who? how?--they still knew how to run. Darting into the forest, Dalia made her best effort not to trip and fall flat on her face like an idiot.

"There's a shack over there!" she called to the others, pointing to the small, wooden structure. She could barely hear herself over the zombies. "We should use it to hide out for now!" Or to get a wall between them and the zombies chasing them, at least.

Coriander Danidify Damafaud Trappy ​

 

[Danidify]

Michael Eastford

Location: North Gate Entrance | Interacting with: Damafaud | Mentions: Trappy S n o w Coriander

Michael was practically ready to shove the taller blonde's head right down into the dirt when he responded with some dumb wannabe clever comment. He already knew that they were most definitely not going to be a good match together, so he could only hope that idiot would keep his mouth shut considering it would obviously lead to more... trouble to say the least.

With anger quite clearly emanating from his face, Michael spoke up.

"Just wait, I'll Fu-"

His attempt to respond was unfortunately cut short by a voice of reason, leaving him at a loss of words. She was right, honestly, but that didn't make that dumb blond giant any less annoying.

Simple bickering quickly escalated to a life-threatening situation in what felt like a mere second. Dalia's sudden scream startled the gardener, things swiftly going much and much faster. Michael just watched as another shovel-wielder quickly took care of the threat reaching for the blond idiot's initial target, unsure how he himself should even react. He had never been in such a situation nor, frankly, ever considered being in one. He always felt rather safe within the walls, although that sense of safety had recently dwindled down at an extreme pace.

With another voice taking the lead, Michael snapped out of his semi-frozen state, holding onto his shovel tightly as he ran after another castaway. At this point, he just wanted to make sure he wouldn't be life out there alone considering his knowledge of plant care probably would not get him very far.

Adrenaline rushed through his body as he ran, glancing back only to see literal death chase after them. It was most certainly not a comfortable feeling, so at the mere mentioning of a shack, of walls, he was sold. As a result, he would just keep up with the people in front of him, making sure to keep track of his surroundings to avoid the clear dangers around them.

code by Ri.a

 

[Coriander]

Laef Maltic
Lost​

location: Running to a Shack

mood: Alert, Still a bit Grumpy

with: Everyone

Things were still going a bit quick for the likes of him, but he supposed that was normal in a situation like this. The surroundings slowly turned to trees and the small form of a shelter came into view. Looking at the choices they had, the act of continuing would most likely give a better outcome, even if it was a bit of a gamble seeing as they had no idea where they were headed. But the group made quick decisions and Dalia, the girl who started all this seemed to suggest the idea of hiding out. And usually the first idea to be brought up was the one to be chosen. Laef wasnt a choice maker anyways, so sticking with the group would be the tide turner for him.

The shack wasnt much to look at, but he had never been accustomed to anything better so complaining was something he had no right to. The most concerning point about the shack though was its stability, especially when it came to the undead. But HEY , like always, Laef was NOT a decision maker, no matter how dumb the decision was. The inside of the shack was worse than the outside, and the thought of just jumping into the horde behind them instead of sleeping in the cobweb filled space. Zombies were one thing that his life had been introduced to, even if he had never dealt with them in real everyday life. Spider? Bugs? That was another deal in its entirety. Everything seemed to be getting worse every second, and Laef was getting tired of it.

 

[Trappy]

Ilya Leichhardt
"Hm? I'm Ilya." The girl replied the voice that came from behind her as she headed the group out of the opening and towards the trees. Allowing a moment to turn around and located a man that was the source of the previous inquiry. Blonde, handsome, but it was obviously written all over his face and attitude that the man was pissed. Now that it came to her, wasn't he the one that almost stirred up some violence back then? But then again, there were others, so he might've been provoked. Everyone was tense enough, if she was to judge, which was only predicted of them in this situation, unless they were thrown out due to mental issues. Well, in any case, Ilya deemed it was still too early to assume anything of this figure, and so she decided to only speak enough and speak proper. Ilya spoke between her breaths as the girl maintained her speed, at least until she was out of those creatures' sight, ideally. "Come, let's save manners and introduction for later!" In time, she'd like to know more about him, as well as others . . . 'Strength in number', after all-

As the girl dashed towards the decided direction, with no clear destination, her vision brought itself down to meet her hands, gripping tightly on the tool she'd used to crack open one of those things' head, fat, blood and brain smeared all over it. 'That's not good for the metal.'-she thought, the last thing she needed in the nightmarish chaos outside the Sanctuary was a poor tool. Ilya made sure she remembered to clean it properly later. Now, another problem, her hands wouldn't stop shaking.

Stop it.

They did not comply. Instead, it came pouring into the girl all at once, like a waves crushing down a dam they had managed to break through. How did it end up like this? Why? Did she not perform her duties well enough? Had she wronged someone? Ilya felt as if her chest was going to burst open, and her visions was starting to blur. That's right, what was it that they say?

'Ilya Leichhardt, you are accused of using your position in the militia to smuggle weapons and firearms to persons who may pose a threat to Sanctuary. How do you plead?'

Oh did she plead, not that it made any difference, evidently.
It wasn't fair - she knew that. She hated them, all of the ones that put her in this position. She hated the Sanctuary, a standing monument that reminded her of her terrible past.
Another came, 'Enough.'

Right. The girl maintained her composure, with some difficulty, she'd admit. She has a responsibility now, and if nothing else, that will have to suffice, it will drive her forward. She cannot be a liability to these people. As she calmed down, Ilya swung the spade to her side, attempting to remove some of the gore that was left on the thing after she struck the walker.

"There's a shack over there! We should use it to hide out for now!"

Suddenly, the dark-skinned girl, who introduced herself Dalia, called out from the back. Good call - Ilya agreed. Surely, they had gotten quite far ahead of the walkers, but she knew those fucks were resilient, and ain't no way they were giving up until they had meat in their maw. Now, it was either hide, or keep running into an uncharted forest forever, exhaust themselves and succumb to those flesh-hungry bastards. From these evaluations, it was pretty clear which choice Ilya settled on.

Soon enough, they reached the shack. It was... Well, old. And overtaken by nature, like everything else here outside of 'civilisation' of the Sanctuary. A lock was found on the door, loosely securing it. It looked so old and rusty Ilya felt as if the thing's brittle construct would shatter with enough force, and it sure did after Ilya smashed her spade against it. A body appeared right by the doorframe, which made the girl jump. Upon second glance, it seemed dead, very permanently dead, surely not the kind that move and nom you. The place was old, dusty, but there was some indications that someone might've taken shelter here. The girl could only hope that her group would be more fortunate than the place's previous occupant.

The windows were boarded up, but nowhere enough. They needed to hide, might as well do it properly and not take any risk. Ilya quickly got to work and moved what furniture she could to reinforce the windows, just as others arrived. As the man earlier entered the shack, she greeted him with an offer of handshake.
"Whew! Seems like we started off on the wrong foot." She said. "So, what's your name?"

Interacting: Damafaud
Mentioned: S n o w

 

[Damafaud]

Prakoso Wiraksa
North Gate Entrance ==> Shack
Hiding; Searching
Interaction: Trappy , S n o w
Mention: Coriander , Danidify​

The group moved at a nice and steady pace considered they were chased by moving corpses. Dark Girl was right in the middle and she was the first one to point at the empty shack where they could hole up like nice little rabbits waiting for the greyhounds to pass. Hey, when your hunters not even breathing there ain't no shame in hiding. Pra ran inside, following the other herbivores that were as eager to hide as he was.

Was the shack a disappointment? Yes. Did he want to leave? Heck no. A wall was better than no wall. The window wasn't boarded properly and if those zombies had working eyes, they were free meals. Pra's eyes darted around as he looked for things to cover the hole. Corpse? Nope-

"SHIT IT'S A CORPSE!"

A quick bash on the head made a dent on the skull. It was only after Pra realised the corpse wasn't moving. Fuck. That was embarassing, but he glared at anyone that dared to laugh at what he did. He was on edge, alright? Chased by corpses then finding one lying about. Him didn't tear the corpse apart was good enough. He turned his eyes to Short Gi- Ilya, and accepted her hand. He raised an eyebrow at her introduction.

"Girl, your first foot outside was bashing a undead dead with a shovel. If that's bad no foot's good enough. The name's Prakoso, but call me Pra. Now move and find something to block that window."

And he found nothing. The shack was empty apart from the corpse with his backpack. The backpack had a suicide note (Pra threw it aside without reading it), empty cans, and a sewing kit. Nothing big enough to cover the hole. Fuck. Were they doomed like the corpse? Good for nothing guy that kill himself because he was too scared of jumping naked into the wild. ...wait.

"...oi, Dark Girl, Ilya. Any of you know how to sew?"

Pra pointed at the dead corpse.

"If you can make a curtain or something from his clothes that will be peachy."

 

[S n o w]

Dalia Acadia​

Dalia shoved the door closed once they were all inside, hands shaking as she felt for a lock. It was only after a few seconds that she remembered that the other woman--Ilya--had hacked it off with her spade. Another problem, on top of the zombies that were slowly crowding around the window, scratching and pulling at the boards.

Dalia jumped when she heard the shout behind her, jerking to the side on instinct to avoid any surprise attacks from behind. By the time she turned around, the corpse was already taken care of, bits of brain and blood on the floor. She sighed in relief, leaning back against the wall. Dalia needed a minute to catch her breath, to organize her thoughts and try to re-gain her cool. As one of the dead shoved an arm through the hole and scrabbled at the wall, she knew she wouldn't be getting it.

The blond, whatever his name was, definitely wasn't helping that. The idea to use the clothes was a solid one, but his approach to asking them left a lot to be desired.

"Listen," Dalia hissed at him. "My name is Dalia. Da-Li-Ah. I'm not Dark Girl. Call me by my name or don't call me anything at all. Got it?" Instead of answering his initial question she moved past without looking in his direction and stripped off the dead man's shirt. She tore it apart down the side, her arms sore from the effort.

She could hear the boards creaking under the undead onslaught and moved faster, gathering her makeshift cloth and the kit as she moved to the window. "One of you help me keep them back while I do this," Dalia said, already working a thread through a needle. She would have to loop one end of the shirt around the top board and let it drape down, and that would be nearly impossible with the zombies arms in the way.

"Just get the arms out of the way. Someone else should take care of the door." It looked like Ilya had already been on that by the shelf she'd been pushing around, but she didn't turn around to look.

Coriander Danidify Damafaud Trappy ​