Realistic or Modern Over My Dead Body [Apocalypse]

[XxLuluxX]

"Over my dead body. That's what my mother's motto was. Then one day, when she finally gave up her last breath, she laughed. Seemed that over her dead body, would be reality. Yet she said to me, and I'll never forget it-


Nothing matters when you're dead, son."





It started out as the TF45 Virus. Found only in chimpanzees. Devastating for the population for animals. Discovered March 12th 2016.


The virus mutated into another strain, during the time a group of veterinary specialists were investigating the disease whilst in Africa. First infected date: July 20th 2016.


Unknowingly this group of volunteers and vets brought it back to their home countries. In your case the United States of America. Right in North Dakota.




It's been two days since worldwide shutdown.

The disease spread like wildfire, Infected, then killed. But the dead didn't stay dead. Something woke them up.




"...This is our last broadcast. Remember, destroy the brain. Remain away from populated areas. Above all. Stay safe. Survive.


...This is our last broadcast..."

​

 

[XxLuluxX]

Two days. It had taken two days for the world to come to its bloody end. His wife and son, gone in the blink of an eye. She'd killed herself and his little boy. 'Opted out'. His little boy. Only two years old. Couldn't make a decision of his own-... Yet what awaited his child in this new world? Transformed by blood, war and disease. Monsters that couldn't be warded away with light, but violence. Did he want that child to grow up in this? And what had become of his daughter?! A girl of only 11, last seen when he'd waved her off at the babysitters. He'd been working his ass off those past few days, until the army had taken over. He'd taken one nap, waking up to a goodbye phonecall from his wife. Rushing to his home in the panic, then to the babysitters. All he found was corpses. Yet not his daughter. Hope grew, knowing that his little one was a bright thing. Perhaps she'd survive long enough to be found? Alas the wildfire of looting and flesh eating dead drove him back to the start. The fire station.


Sitting in the locker room, finding all the supplies and equipment he could carry. At last. Still he waited. Till the clock struck twelve. Time to go. He wrenched himself up, and forward, bursting through doors to slip down the firemans pole, swinging at the shuffling corpses whom had invaded the open garage. The axe caught in the skull of one, splintering and spraying coagulated blood upon his visor and jacket. Timothy kept going. Reaching the last fire vehicle which was by chance a pick up truck of red colour, painted with the departments ownership. He immediately jolted the door open, jumping in to yank his mask off and thrust the keys in the engine. He lifted the radio to his lips, putting his foot flat on the accelerator. "To anyone who can hear this frequency- Jamestown belongs to the dead. I repeat, do not- Enter- Jamestown."


@CrystalGoblets @KaiaWolf @burninglog @SeaSkies @LostInTime

 

[burninglog]

After a somehow never-ending day or two, Jackson had worked up the guts to investigate what the hell was going on. The first scream he'd heard had instinctively made him lock himself in his closet with his sword. Today, it was different. It seemed to have settled down a little and there were less screams and scary demonic sounds. Jackson unlocked his closet with a shaky hand and he slowly walked through his house. He felt his stomach growl and frowned, finally realizing he hadn't eaten since he originally locked himself in that cramped safe haven of a closet. A hideous growl started as a whisper and grew louder until he finally got to the living room. A sight met him that sent him nearly frozen unblinking as he couldn't believe it. His parents were feasting on his little sister and he forced his legs to silently back away. Jackson didn't dare turn his back to the monsters that were replacing his family as he made his way to his room on the second floor. He grabbed his "emergency bag" that he had originally packed for any possible need to runaway from home, as his father had always been drunk and very violent.


Jackson opened his window, dropping his duffel bag and sword, following after and rolling to distribute the force of the landing. He strapped his sword onto his back, shouldering the duffel bag. Finally turning his back on his house he began quietly but swiftly running towards the only place he could think to: the police station. A monster burst out of the station and was coming towards Jackson with surprising speed, considering the clearly large amount of injuries. He unsheathed his sword and fear and uncertainty washed over his face as he swung his sword in a clean cut, decapitating the monster before it got to him. The scared boy quickly ran from the police station with his sword still in his hand as he approached the next place he could think of: the fire station. Jackson rushed through the doors, closing them behind him and staring out at the corpses lying around and the monsters that roamed around.


@XxLuluxX

 

[XxLuluxX]

There. A person. A dumbass kid running to the station for safety right in his wing mirror. "Jesus, fuck" He cursed, clenching his jaw to make a screeching swerve. Stopping right outside the fire station. He leant over to the window, rolling it down. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF THERE" He bellowed, knowing full well his walking colleagues were barred in a hastily manner down in the cafeteria of the building. He smashed his hand into the horn of the pick up truck again, yelling. Walkers began to turn to him with horrific faces and hungry expressions. Eyes a milky film. "GET YOUR GODDAMN ASS OUTTA THERE KID. IM THROWING YOU A LIFE LINE HERE." And he meant it. They needed to get out the city. Everyone did. And they needed to do it NOW. Timothy could do his best to help other survivors, yet this was bigger than him. Natural selection was back in business and he didn't want to become a meal on wheels.


@burninglog

 

[burninglog]

Jackson's head whipped toward the source of a voice and honking. He didn't know what else to do, so he listened, running outside and to the truck. He opened the passenger door and hopped in awkwardly buckling himself in. "Thanks...." Jackson looked outside the window of the truck, still not really sure what to make of what was going on. He turned back at the man, the same fear and uncertainty taking over his facial expression as he sheathed his sword, just now realizing it was still in his hand. "Do you know what's happening..?.." He asked, really hoping this man wasn't as in the dark as he was.


@XxLuluxX

 

[CrystalGoblets]

The birds sang noisily. Almost as noisily as Jaxson snored. Demetra yawned and slowly sat up, careful not to disturb the still sleeping Jaxson. She slowly got out of the blankets, unzipped the tent, and crawled out. Jocelynn was sitting on a folding lawn chair around the remnants of last night's campfire, and smiled warmly at Demetra as she neared her.


"Hey Ari, sleep well?" She asked. Demetra nodded and yawned, then reached her arms over her head and stretched like a cat.


"What're the plans for today?" Inquired Demetra sleepily. Jocelynn shrugged one shoulder.


"Not sure. I think we should pack up today and continue onto another campsite, we have been here for an entire week now. I heard there's a good one around the Sheyenne river," Jocelynn got up and poked the fire. There was a rustling behind them, and then a gravely voice said "What time is it?" The girls turned and looked at a bedraggled Jaxson.


"Time to get up," Teased Demetra. Jaxson grumbled something and sauntered off into the woods towards the location of the outhouse.


"How about I put breakfast on, and you start taking down the tent?" Suggested Jocelynn. Demetra smiled and nodded. The two went to complete their tasks, and Jaxson reappeared from the forest a few minutes later.


"Hey, we're uh, we're out of toilet paper," He said. Demetra looked over her shoulder at him. "Well we're packing up to leave today anyway, heard about a good campsite near the Sheyenne river. We can stop in Jamestown to grab some more," Jaxson nodded his agreement and made his way over to Demetra to help her with the dismantling of the tent.


Later

The three finished shoving the last of their belongings in the trunk of the black Ford SUV and then climbed in, Jaxson driving, Jocelynn in the passenger seat and Demetra in the back. They made their way towards Jamestown.


"How long 'til we get there?" Asked Demetra.


"About half an hour I think," Replied Jocelynn. Jaxson reached over to the radio to turn it on but no sound came out.


"Weird," Said Jaxson as he messed around with it, trying to get music to play but nothing happened.


"Try the police scanner," Suggested Demetra jokingly. The "police scanner" was the nickname for the old radio Jaxson and Jocelynn's dad kept in the car. When on road trips he would always turn it to a certain frequency to listen to the police and other emergency service radio calls. Jocelynn pulled it out from under the passenger seat and turned it on. They got something on the very first frequency they tried.


"To anyone who can hear this frequency- Jamestown belongs to the dead. I repeat, do not- Enter- Jamestown." The three sat silent for a moment. And another. And another.


"To anyone who can hear this frequency- Jamestown belongs to the dead. I repeat, do not- Enter- Jamestown." Repeated the man. Silence.


"What... What the fuck?!" Said Jaxson, breaking the silence.


"Has to be some kind of prank... Right?" Said Jocelynn.


"You can't say a prank over a-"


C R A S H


They ran over someone.


@SeaSkies

 

[XxLuluxX]

Slammed his foot down again, burnt rubber filling the air with a large dose of urgency to get away. "Roll up your window kiddo" He ordered, glancing around whilst avoiding panic and the infected. Didn't want to get himself stuck. Roaring through the city to try and get out. "Ain't you heard the news? The whole world went to shit overnight. Started with that infection on the news. Spread like wildfire. The military got overrun" In that instant he drew his penknife, one hand on the wheel whilst pressing the blade to the boys throat. "Are you bit? Got any blood in your mouth or eyes? Get scratched? Did you catch the fever? Sorry for this kiddo but I gotta know. I can't have someone jeopardising this situation. The dead are fucking walking about and I just lost the people I swore to protect. I'm sure you have your own story, but now this is a serious problem. If you turn, we're in a small metal box right here. Not a way I want to die. Capishe?" Harper interrogated. It was harsh. But he had to be. Survival was key.


@burninglog

 

[burninglog]

Jackson rolled up his window and was about to mention how he had been hiding in a closet since the first scream he heard when the man pressed a knife to his throat and asked him a series of questions. "N-no... Look I've only had a close encounter with one of the monsters and... and um I kinda cut its head off. I swear I'm fine... A little shaken I guess but I'm fine I swear...." Jackson practically couldn't stop talking. In situations where he thought he might die, he usually couldn't stop spitting out words or just couldn't bring himself to open his mouth. He didn't take his eyes off of the knife and he really hoped he was going to not die here and now just because this man thought he might change into one of those monsters.


@XxLuluxX

 

[opyim]

"Fuck this shit," he mumbled, placing both hands to his lower back to massage the stress and pain of being bent over crops all day. Sweat aligned the bridge of his nose and moistened his forehead, it ran down the sides of his face accumulating at his chin then steadily dripping. He had buck as much barley he was able to labour into his rusty, old box Chevrolet. Most the red paint had been scratched off or corroded though she still ran. He climbed into his truck and slammed shut the door, turning the key in the ignition then grasping the stick lever behind the steering wheel and pulling it down before shifting into drive. The engine spat and growled heartily as it shakily bounced off every crevice and stone in the road. It was bumpy, the ornaments on his dashboard and rearview mirror dashed around, their loose instruments lashing back and forth.


He switched through the radio channels, all but a blaring static until finally he received some signal, though most the broadcast was a deep static and white noise.


"Fucks sake," he swore, shaking his head as instead he found an alternative, slipping a CD into the radio featuring his own favourite songs.


He cracked a smile, resting one arm on the side of his door and his other on the steering wheel as Jimmy Hendrix "All Along the Watchtower" played.

 

[XxLuluxX]

"Good. As I said, my apologies for the situation. Had to make sure. You see that's how the virus is transferred. Bodily fluid and all that. Sure you learnt about it in school. Huh?" The fireman remarked, chucking the penknife on the dashboard of the pick up. "So give me the rundown. Who are you? How old are you? Where you going? And what do you need to know?" Timothy listed off, keeping his eyes on the road. Mainly keeping to backstreets and driving across estates. "You see, I ain't got much of a plan other than to find my little girl. She's out there. Still alive. I know it. I fucking know it" He muttered almost viciously. "But thats me, what about you kiddo?"


@burninglog

 

[XxLuluxX]

"Fuck this shit," he mumbled, placing both hands to his lower back to massage the stress and pain of being bent over crops all day. Sweat aligned the bridge of his nose and moistened his forehead, it ran down the sides of his face accumulating at his chin then steadily dripping. He had buck as much barley he was able to labour into his rusty, old box Chevrolet. Most the red paint had been scratched off or corroded though she still ran. He climbed into his truck and slammed shut the door, turning the key in the ignition then grasping the stick lever behind the steering wheel and pulling it down before shifting into drive. The engine spat and growled heartily as it shakily bounced off every crevice and stone in the road. It was bumpy, the ornaments on his dashboard and rearview mirror dashed around, their loose instruments lashing back and forth.
He switched through the radio channels, all but a blaring static until finally he received some signal, though most the broadcast was a deep static and white noise.


"Fucks sake," he swore, shaking his head as instead he found an alternative, slipping a CD into the radio featuring his own favourite songs.


He cracked a smile, resting one arm on the side of his door and his other on the steering wheel as Jimmy Hendrix "All Along the Watchtower" played.

Hey, I'm loving your introduction and I would love to have you in the roleplay ^-^ But could you quickly fill out a character sheet? It's basically the minimum, just so we can get the gist c:

 

[burninglog]

Jackson sighed in relief and much of his tension disappeared as he looked over at the man in search of his daughter. "I'm Jackson River, or just Jack, and I turned sixteen last month. And honestly? I don't know where to go. I never had many friends or family other than my parents and Sis. I don't really know, but is it basically like the zombie apocalypse? You know like in pop culture and all of that stuff?" His face drooped a little at the mention of his family, but he didn't want to focus too much on himself so he changed the subject by asking that question. Jackson had never been one for pity, so he was hoping the man wouldn't pry into the mention of his family. He always remembered his mom always taking pity on him whenever he got nosebleeds, which was often, and it had always pissed him off. He remembered a few times when he'd told her 'I don't want you feeling sorry for me, I want the blood to stop flowing. That's literally it, Mom.' He had never cared much for his parents, especially for his constantly drunken asshole of a father. Jackson's little sister had really been his only real friend and she'd even stood up for him countless times when he couldn't. Jackson snapped out of his little daydream and looked at the man again, awaiting his answer to the question.


@XxLuluxX

 

[opyim]

[shit forgot character sign up, will add when I get to a computer.]


The weary farmer soon arrived in the driveway of his estate, a gated acre of land with multiple wrecked or abandoned vehicles lined in a designated large clearing of dirt he used for mechanical works and the sort. He pulled up in the courtyard of his estate, just in front his farmhouse where a mighty barn proudly stood situated across from it. He turned off the ignition and the engine softly purred before shutting down as multiple clicks were heard beneath the hood as a cooling down mechanism. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and squint due to the beaming sun limiting his capability of seeing properly, that and the sweat that stung his eyes. He turned, approaching the peeling white paint of his splintered steps and opening the old wooden door that could easily be torn from the hinges with enough force, he stepped through opening the second door which was a screen designed to keep out insects. The floorboards creaked, groaning as he shift the weight of his boots across them before resting in his recliner after fetching a well deserved cold beer from his fridge.

 

[Neuton]

Hide!


That one word kept repeating in Ryan's head as he started to pack random things into his bookbag that was put on the coffee table in the living room of the house. As he finished packing, Ryan begins to drip sweat as his heart started to flutter. He ran upstairs and grabbed his father's golden eagle and his older brother's metal baseball bat. As he ran down stairs, (almost tripping on the way down) he went to the living room and grabbed his bookbag filled with...well anything! As he started for the front door he stopped in his track. Someone was lazily banging on the door on the other side. Ryan paled as he slowly got closer. The knocking stopped as Ryan looked through the peep hole. When he did he saw nothing but a clear sunny day. With nothing on the streets. Then he saw a milky white eye and a groan. Ryan jumped back, his heart thumping against his chest. Ryan quickly locked the door and ran toward the back. Luckily for him, Ryan lived on the edge of the neighborhood. He opened the door and darted out. Ryan quickly jumped over the fence and ran into the endless woods. Luckily for Ryan he ahs been in the woods many a times and knew it like the back of his hand. Unlucky for him, Their was a huge river that cuts through the woods. Ryan does not know what was on the other side of the river.

 

[SeaSkies]

Jaxson


I let out a wail and slam on the breaks. A horrible, fleshy noise is made as the car skids over whatever we hit.


"Oh my god! We just killed something! What if we killed someone! I don't even live in this state! I don't even live in this fucking country! This is insane I'm going to be arrested for vehicular manslaughter with my Ontario car in stupid North Dakota!" I yell before throwing my door open and screaming angrily. Well, might as well see the poor fucker we crushed. I walk around to the back of the car the flattened remains of, god damn it, a human body. I hear the other two get out of the car and walk over to me.


"Nice one, dumbass, and you only got your full G four months ago." Jocelynn says.


----------


Jocelynn


"Fuck off," Jaxson says and gives me the finger.


"Wait," Ari says, "doesn't this body look a little, decomposed, to have just been killed not even a minute ago."


We both pause and look at her.


"Maybe that radio thing was true," I mumble

 

[XxLuluxX]

"Well Jackson River, the names Tim Harper. I don't mind what you call me." Now sighing he sat upright a little. "The dead are kinda like that I guess. Shoot for the head, you kill 'em. Shoot anywhere else you're a dumbass or have really bad aim." He laughed, yet it sounded slightly forced. "The only thing is... Even the ones who didn't get bitten and die, they come back. Discovered that when my friend overdosed himself to 'opt out' shall I say. Tried and succeeded in gnashing his teeth at a few other guys. Thats why I said to get out the station. I barely barricaded the cafeteria door. In a sense we're all infected." Timothy shrugged, rubbing his forehead a moment. "They may not seem to bad one to one, but you get yourself stuck in a horde of those godforsaken creatures and you're fucked. Finished."


Continuing on through the lanes he picked up the radio again. "This is the Jamestown Fire Department representative. If you recieved my first broadcast, I suggest you listen to this one. Jamestown is unsafe. I will be coming out the northern side highway. In a red pick up. If you need help, I can offer it. If you need information or medical treatment I can ease a conscience or two. But I repeat again, as I did the last time. The city has been overrun. The evac center has fallen. Military has disbanded. Jamestown is not safe. If you can hear me on this frequency, please respond. This is Harper- Out." @burninglog @SeaSkies @CrystalGoblets

 

[XxLuluxX]

[shit forgot character sign up, will add when I get to a computer.]
The weary farmer soon arrived in the driveway of his estate, a gated acre of land with multiple wrecked or abandoned vehicles lined in a designated large clearing of dirt he used for mechanical works and the sort. He pulled up in the courtyard of his estate, just in front his farmhouse where a mighty barn proudly stood situated across from it. He turned off the ignition and the engine softly purred before shutting down as multiple clicks were heard beneath the hood as a cooling down mechanism. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and squint due to the beaming sun limiting his capability of seeing properly, that and the sweat that stung his eyes. He turned, approaching the peeling white paint of his splintered steps and opening the old wooden door that could easily be torn from the hinges with enough force, he stepped through opening the second door which was a screen designed to keep out insects. The floorboards creaked, groaning as he shift the weight of his boots across them before resting in his recliner after fetching a well deserved cold beer from his fridge.

((Alrighty! ^^))

 

[Neuton]

As Ryan shuffled through the woods he hear something in his bookbag. Ryan stopped and took out his bookbag and started to dig. A he did he found a portable radio that kept said, "This is the Jamestown Fire Department representative. If you recieved my first broadcast, I suggest you listen to this one. Jamestown is unsafe. I will be coming out the northern side, highway. In a red pick up. If you need help, I can offer it. If you need information or medical treatment I can ease a conscience or two. But I repeat again, as I did the last time. The city has been overrun. The evac center has fallen. Military has disbanded. Jamestown is not safe. If you can hear me on this frequency, please respond. This is Harper- Out." Ryan's dad was a police officer and had fire officer and police officer work on the same frequency. Ryan clicks the button as sweat dripped down his head. "hello! Who is this? I need help!" ,Ryan shouted. After he finished he heard ruffling behind him. Ryan quickly grabbed the pistol and put it in his pocket while grabbing the bag and baseball bat. He begined to dart toward the river.

 

[opyim]

The farmer had thought how appreciative he was for his father's estate, it was truly a rancher's paradise with corn fields that ranged for a mile, golden wheat beneath the dominant sun and a scenery of undisturbed tranquility. It was a rural, desolate and comfortable farmstead, here he had no worries, he had no concerns of individuals. He supplied for the state, and in turn for his undying labour received a cosy profit. Though despite such a meaningful abode, solitude grew more of a problem, a man gets too lonely and he gets sick. Mentally, physically, emotionally, being a veteran had taught him these things, the fights are not always external, though also internal. Numerous times had he contemplate visiting the town and city he supplied for in coalition with other farmers though having no known family proved difficult. His farm was located yonder a vast growth of forestry and behind that a creek, a river even which he used to hunt by with his son.


He inhaled deeply and exhaled through his mouth, letting out a perplexed sigh as he reminisced about much simpler times.


[My wifi died, post meant for after #14 making this #15]

 

[burninglog]

Jackson nodded at Tim's answer. Definitely sounded like your stereotypical zombie mixed in with that whole 'we're all infected' thing that the Walking Dead brought attention to. He was glad to be in the company of someone who seemed to have a bit of authority and was an alright guy. Jackson looked out of the window again as he always did on any kind of ride, letting his thoughts wander but they kept returning to that horrifying scene of his parents hovering over his little sister and tearing her apart and munching on her. He shook the thought away by trying to count every monster that the truck went past. 1... 2.. 3.......... 12. Since he'd started counting, they'd past twelve monsters. He looked at the sky to see what time of day it pretty much was. It seemed to be around 5pm or so, slowly crawling towards the early evening.


@XxLuluxX

 

[CrystalGoblets]

We stared at the crushed body a few moments longer. 'This can't actually be happening... Can it?' Demetra thought, afraid. A distraught Jaxson started pacing.


"Now what? Now fucking what? I'm going to go to jail. My life is over. I'm going to be fucking STUCK in AMERICA! I DON'T WANT TO STAY HERE ANY LONGER THAN OUR TRIP! MY LIFE IS OVER!" He screamed. Jocelynn neared him and took him into her arms, mumbling soothing words as he started to cry. The corpse moved. The corpse moved. The corpse moved. A low groan comes out of the still-intact head.


"G-guys?" Demetra stuttered. They all froze and stared at it.


"Wh-" The radio goes off.


"This is the Jamestown Fire Department representative. If you recieved my first broadcast, I suggest you listen to this one. Jamestown is unsafe. I will be coming out the northern side highway. In a red pick up. If you need help, I can offer it. If you need information or medical treatment I can ease a conscience or two. But I repeat again, as I did the last time. The city has been overrun. The evac center has fallen. Military has disbanded. Jamestown is not safe. If you can hear me on this frequency, please respond. This is Harper- Out."


"North," Muttered Jocelynn.


"North," Repeated Demetra.


"Fuck... To get north we have to... go through town," Said Jax. The three looked at each other, as the corpse groaned again and twitched.


"Whatever's going on, it's not good. We should meet up with that guy on the radio," Jaxson and Jocelynn nodded their agreement. The three piled in the car as the radio went off again. "Hello! Who is this? I need help!" Shouted someone.


"Reply!" Shouted Jaxson as they backed up over the corpse again. There was a sickening crunch as the skull was crushed. Jocelynn fumbled with the radio.


"Hello? Hello? Who needs help? Where are you? We're in a black Ford SUV, three passengers, south of Jamestown in the woods. We're going to try to make it north to meet up with the man in the red pick up. Hello? Where are you?"


@SeaSkies @Neuton @XxLuluxX @burninglog

 

[XxLuluxX]

He lept for the radio again when it crackled to life, hearing a frightened voice emit in the newly found silence. "Hello! Who is this? I need help!"


"This is Timothy Harper, Jamestown Fire Department. Now kid, I need you to calm down, don't make too much noise. Alright? Where are you? Can you make it to the highway?" Harper questioned, trying to make the situation as calm as he could given the flesh eating corpses. "If you can make it to the northern highway, I can help you. If you can't I need directions. I'll come and find you. But those things? They're attracted to noise. So I need you to hush a little. Take some deep breaths. Is there any geeks around where you are?" He asked, glancing through the windows of the vehicle. Of course this conversation could be heard on the said emergency channel, and he hoped he'd be doing this for the greater good.


Then it flooded with other voices. Oh boy did he have work to do.


"Hello? Hello? Who needs help? Where are you? We're in a black Ford SUV, three passengers, south of Jamestown in the woods. We're going to try to make it north to meet up with the man in the red pick up. Hello? Where are you?"





"This is Harper, Red pick up. We'll be along shortly. Me and my associate will stop near the forests line on the highways bend. One hell of a group call huh?"


@Neuton @CrystalGoblets

 

[opyim]

[i'll like all ur posts when I get to a computer, phone slow as fuck all.]


The farmer relocate to his outhouse after failing to receive signal to his 'old-timey' television hoping his radio that had served by him enduring years of torment from certain conflict he toured would remain loyal thus letting achieve at least a slight transfer of signal. Though living in such a place distant from civilisation had these negative perks disallowing communication, and the certain lack of it is what gradually tore him apart over the years. He did the necessary tweaks and tampering before he was able to finally get it worked. At first the sudden loud blare startled him though was harshly stomped out by his desensitised state, a sufferer of PTSD who didn't "give a flying shit" though knew deep down he had priorities and certain responsibilities that demanded to be fulfilled. As he tuned through the channels he received a fireman's broadcast which he dismissed as bullshit. Why should he care anyway? Fucktown he personally named it is of his disinterest anyway so why should he bother? After all he recieved prank calls on his radio long before which is why he dismantled it in the first place.


His mouth felt barren and drank his own spit before pouring himself a glass and staring out the stained window as the contents slipped down his throat. The sun beamed through the window, patches of it illuminating the dust with an orange glow, he knew the evening grew nigh and decide that in his free time would clean his arsenal of weapons. The farmer descent into his basement making sure the door was locked behind him...

 

[Neuton]

As Ryan ran through the woods he heard the radio come to life, "Hello? Hello? Who needs help? Where are you? We're in a black Ford SUV, three passengers, south of Jamestown in the woods. We're going to try to make it north to meet up with the man in the red pick up. Hello? Where are you?" Ryan got closer to the river as he presses down the button. When he did he heard groans from behind him. As he turned around he sees two bodies shuffling toward him. Both were milk eyes and both looked fresh. like normal humans except for the blood dripping from their mouth and it seems that they both have one broken leg. Ryan holds out his baseball bat as he starts to panic. He realizes he has the radio and they can hear this. "I'm...I'm..." Ryan forgot where he was for a second till something popped in his head. "I'm near the Missouri river. North of Bismarck. I'm crossing the river but I-I don't know if I'm going west or east!" As he finished Ryan's button was still pressed down as a Zombie launched at him. Ryan let out a scream and slammed the baseball bat right into it's skull. A sicking crunch was heard and the zombie layed on the ground. The other one looked at him and seemed to become angry. He let out a roar and attacked him. Ryan swinged the bat again, but it hit one of it's arm. The other arm grabbed his hand with the radio in it. Ryan let out a scream as the radio popped out of his hand. Ryan slammed the baseball bat into it's skull again. remembering what the firefighter said. He stood their taking in deep breaths. Two...re-died zombies lied in front of him. Ryan looked at them and slammed the bat into each of their skulls three more times. Ryan stood their again, shocked.

 

[burninglog]

((Going offline for a while, just say Jackson fell asleep or something))