The Affliction: New Beginnings

Kimbella

Kimbella

Procrastination Queen

abandoned_city_by_joakimolofsson-d4l2vr4.jpg


(well, go ahead and get started.)
​
 
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Laden laid in bed with a couple of girls from his harem. He was still trying to get used to being a king since he took over most of Nova Scotia not to mention him missing his family. However, he knew he had done so much in that time and then decided to get up. He walked to his balcony to look at his captial. They were people bustling to work and such, peddlers selling their wares, hell, if it wasn't for the lack of cars and the makeshift wall surrounding the city you could've sworn a zombie apocalypse never happened. Laden smiled at this and with the two girls woke up, Laden said "Prepare my bath,". The girls nodded obediently and began to prepare his bath


(Open)
 
A police van. A police van, stockpiling weapons, ammunition and tactical equipment. Where would you find such a van carrying such munitions? Outside of a police station, of course. It was quite difficult to assume which one, since part of it was just rubble. The Armoury was conveniently intact, for the lucky individual travelling by.


A man, draped in Riot Control equipment, was the one responsible for why this van was loaded with enough weapons to raid a bandit camp. Who he was a mystery. A gas mask was in place where is face should be. This unknown figure made his way to the driver's seat, resting his arse on whatever it's made out of. A gloved hand took out a key - presumably for this vehicle - and slotted it in. The engine of this van purred with life, ready to begin on its long journey awaiting it.
 
On the dark streets, a male stood. It was afternoon, but the sun was hidden away behind a thick dark layer of clouds which effectively obstructed the soothing rays of light and warmth. Nothing was quite the same ever since the bombs were dropped; or at least that was what everyone used to say. He didn't have a place to go now that everything had been overrun with living dead, the daytime being only possible period of time you could go out to the streets without immediately having your neck clawed open, although that was a common possibility even then. He was donning a fairly casual attire, his facial features obstructed by a balaclava, the rest of his body covered in a light windbreaker and jeans. On his feet were heavy action boots, which weren't exactly the most of fashionable or stylish for the rest of his clothing, but it did the job better than trainers would.


A backpack was strapped on his shoulders, most likely withholding quite a bit of supplies, judging by how filled it was. It looked like he was moving somewhere, as he drew the russian pistol from his pocket and started to circle around a pack of three undead, away from their sight. "That was a close one." He pointed out to himself, scratching his face where his dry shaved skin was. The necessities were basically outlawed, with shaving cream being the least of his worries. A knife used as a razor had to do. He had to keep moving, keep moving north. Rumours were spreading about a sophisticated society taking refuge on the east coast of Canada, which was for sure going to be a hotspot of people seeking serenity and peace for once.


@Quillicious


@Catharsis


@Cassiopeia


@whoeverwantstojointhis
 
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Waking up to the sounds of screams and gunshots, Harris woke up nervously in the abandoned shack he's been living in for a couple of days. Dusty, some spiders and ants here and there, and the taste of fish and berries that could be poisonous is getting exhausting. He's been hearing the same thing all day, all night; screaming and gunshots, all from the city. Were riots happening there? Is there some sort of battle up in Chicago? No, riots don't happen day after day and if there was a battle in the city, wouldn't the forests be populated by soldiers and military camps? Something wasn't right. Something changed when Harris left the city and sought refuge. Whatever changed, it surely wasn't good.


Well, he can't just laze around all day in that crappy old shack if he's going to survive. Getting up and grabbing his fire-axe, Harris walked out of his shelter and was to seek out some food. He's looking for something different; perhaps some rabbit or a deer if he's lucky, but he'll have to get up close. Minutes of walking felt like hours of walking to him. Grasping the fire-axe and spotting a tree with some apples on it, it must've been his lucky day because it had about 13 of them. He placed down the axe and made his way up the tree, grasping onto the branches and pulling himself up. Eventually in a safe position, he grabs as much as them as he could reach, about 8. Then, the smell of rotting filled the air. He turned his head, and saw four; no, five human shaped figures walking towards the tree...
 
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The shabby general store could no longer act as a place of refuge for the young woman hunkered down inside, hitching her backpack high on her shoulders as she kept a watchful eye on the windows. A bit of searching earlier had revealed nothing but a dingy towel, which she quickly wrapped around her face, covering her mouth and nose in an attempt to protect herself from the smoky, polluted air.  She took a few cautious steps out the door, her eyes darting around wildly for any sign of movement, but whatever was hanging around the store the previous night seemed to be long gone. 


Outside, the destruction stretched for as far as she could see in each direction, which wasn't very far at all with a thick layer of smog having settled over the small town, effectively filtering out the majority of the sunlight. The young woman clutched a small pocket knife in her right hand, poised and ready to defend herself if need be. Other than a few distant screams, all was silent. She would continue with her plan to head north in search of the rumored safe zone in Nova Scotia, information she acquired by eavesdropping on a pair of armed survivors she decided not to cross paths with. She quickly picked up her pace, trying to cover as much distance as she could while the sun was still in the sky.
 
Somewhere in The Big Apple...


Адам sat on his ass, back facing the wall, face facing the entrance of a shabby supermarket-ish structure. Despite being here for quite some time, Адамска couldn't wrap his tongue around the name. "мишень", or, as one of his (former) friends translated for him, Tah-ru-gyet. He never quite understood what it meant; what is it a target for? He once thought, for a long time, that it was the target for the customers to go to, for stuff that they needed. But this isn't the time to think about such petty things.


Laid out on the ground, illuminated by a faint flashlight, were a slightly crumpled map, and a compass. The compass obviously had been around for a long time, and handled quite roughly, too, as the holding liquid ( Адам really couldn't come up with any other word more suitable for it) has started to bubble up inside, which wasn't a good sign. The map had many circles around various key points, with Cyrillic words scribbled next to, or directly on them. The words roughly translated to nouns, specifically, names of the building/place circled. One could deduce that he was marking important spots to check out/scout/scavenge/reach, and one could further deduce that everything has gone to hell, because all of the circles had been crossed out. All but one.


"Oружейный завод", it wrote. "Armory", what it means. The man carefully traces the route he had worked out, straining his eyes to remember this route. He really hopes that, being an armory, it would contain some survivors, as they would have the means to survive, or, at least, morbidly, leave loot and guns and supplies, as the... things, as he had seen, possess neither the desire nor the intelligence to use the supplies or eat them. All they care about is eating the person those supplies belong to.


Releasing a quiet sigh, he wrapped up the map, crumpling it a bit further, and stuffed it in the backpack, along with his compass. He reaches to grab his weapon, an AK model carbine, which, he learned, goes by the name "Krinkov" to the янки gun-enthusiasts. He stands up, and begins his journey towards the armory. Which was easier than he thought, for as soon as he stepped out of the supermarket, he could just faintly hear the unmistakable sound of a car engine coming to life, coming from the direction where the armory was. He began taking long strides, which turned into a run, which then turned into a mad dash towards the source of the sound.
 
A police van loaded by a mysterious stranger who'd just filled the thing with enough weapons to make an entire arsenal... so of course Shiro had to go say hi when they were just passing by on their way home. contrary to what her brother wanted, as he yelled at her to stop and get back over to him. but she didn't listen, running over to the van and person she'd seen enter it and said as loud as she could "HIYA!!!" then continued in a hyper active tone and speaking as fast as she possibly could, "I'm Shiro and this is my brother and we need a ride! we're looking for our dad since he wasn't in his office, can you take us, please please PLLEAASEE!!?!" standing directly in front of the van, she hadn't even noticed when the engine spurred to life, nor did she notice she was probably in danger by standing in front of the van. she just smiled at the stranger through the van window then shouted again "PLEAASE! IT'D REALLY MEAN A LOT TO US!!" 


Meanwhile her brother, Kuro, was panicking. his sister just ran off to go greet a mysterious stranger in a mask who'd most likely kidnap her, kill her either purposely or accidentally, or r- he shivered at the thought, feeling protective over his sister suddenly. he started screaming at the top of his lungs while running after her "WAIT! SHIRO STOP! YOU DON'T KNOW HIM!!! STRANGER DANGER REMEMBER!?!" when he finally got near her he doubled over, panting. he'd exhausted his lung capacity just by running after her and shouting, god why was she so fast... he adjusted his headphones after he caught his breath. he then noticed that his dear sister, who was most definitely a moron, was standing right in front of the van. he stared at his sister, time seemingly stopped for him, she was probably going to die because she was far to friendly. the tears began to well up in his eyes, goodbye dear sister...goodbye not so dear life... he rubbed his eyes with the sleeves of his red hoodie. run over by a giant fricking van, at least she wouldn't become a zombie like their dad had. 


@AxelWelrod
 
In Montreal, Val suddenly looked up from what he was doing as a loud roaring engulfed all the silent sounds of the city. Looking out the windows of the shop he was scavenging, he watched as a Dash 8 soared dangerously close to the buildings that lay damaged along the St Lawrence. The black gear spray-painted on its side identified it as being operated by Les Aviateurs, Val's faction. He'd joined them back months and months ago, when his travels had finally brought him to Quebec city, where they found him, hungry, injured and inadequately armed. Since then, he'd worked through the ranks quickly, partially due to his connections with the company they were so obsessed with. He was now a Lieutenant for the faction, and had participated as a ground and later air unit in clashed with their various enemies, including the vicious mercenary group Perelin, and air-based groups such as The Everetts. Val chuckled as he watched the turboprop swoop dangerously close to the ground. "Bet that's a rookie" he said to no one in particular. Turning back to the store he was scavenging, he looked under the counter in the store and found what appeared to be some ammo. Looking closer, and he realized it wasn't the correct caliber for any of his guns. Still though ammo was rare, and his group would need all the ammo they could get. after pulling the box out, he looked down on the floor, and saw a blood-stained watch. It appeared to have fallen off a dead zombie in a struggle with the nearby deceased shopkeeper. Still though, it was pretty interesting, and he could scrap it for some parts. Smaller parts were a bitch to get out here. He turned to leave, but then heard a rustling. The watch zombie stirred, and slowly charged Val, only to be quickly stopped by a 9mm bullet. Val barely had enough time to say "NO YOU DON'T" before another zombified patron rose and charged him.Val thrwew a display case to slow him down, before taking out his SIG and stopping him short. Breathing heavily, Val calmly strolled out of the shop, back into the cold streets of downtown Montreal.              
 
"Oh, (BLEEP)!" Harris fell down the tree and almost broke his leg, but still went and got his fire-axe, and prepared to fight the people if needed. "GET BACK OR I'LL KILL YOU!" He shouted. The pain in his leg made it hard to stand. They didn't reply, but when they got closer he realized they weren't people; they were these things, rotting yet somehow 'alive' corpses. One of them leaped at him, and started to scratch at his face. "AGH!" Harris pushed the thing off and smashed the axe into it's head a couple of times in fear. He turns to the other four which were still coming towards him. In shock and fear he turns around and makes a run for it; or you could call it a limp instead. The pain in his leg remained and wasn't going to go anytime soon, forcing him to limp which slowed him down. Then, more of them emerged from the woods into his view, soon met with about 15 of them on his trail. He stops running as he was tired and his leg's condition was too much. There was no way he could outrun these things in this situation, and there's no way he can win a 1 vs 15 with nothing but a fire axe.. He had to outsmart them if he's going to survive.


The zombies didn't have much mobility and weren't very fast, which Harris noticed as they weren't able to run and such. Spotting a tree that was tall enough to stay on and out of reach yet still possible to climb, he grabs onto the branches and pulls himself up. "Crap, my leg..." His leg didn't stop giving him trouble as he went up the tree, but he managed anyways. The zombies eventually caught up, scratching and reaching to get Harris, but it was clear they couldn't do that. Terrified, Harris turns his head when he hears the sound of the screaming and yelling of a couple of people, and some gunshots as well. This caught the attention of the groups of infected nearby, including the ones who tried eating Harris. They wandered off in that direction, which relieved Harris as he let out a sigh. "I've got to get out of here. Here in Chicago isn't safe with those things wandering around," He thought. On his way back to the shed, Harris thought about leaving Chicago and heading up to Canada. Perhaps things will be better, he thought.
 
The mysterious lonesome figure from earlier before noticed what appeared to be a teenage girl treading towards his person, and his van. Not quite sure if she was an insane bandit come to plunder his findings or some lost soul looking for assistance from him. This figure would step out of the vehicle and stand behind the door. He kept a wheel brace positioned on the seat of the driver in the event it is required. Unfortunately for this man, the firearms collected were stored in the van's rear.


Rearing this unknown stranger happened to be what appeared to be a younger lad, judging by height. It was - at most - difficult to infer if they were even teenagers considering none of them were even of average height. The man totting a gasmask was essentially a giant compared to them.


The young lad's need to yell to the top of his lungs had attracted some unwelcome guests. A couple infected to be precise. The armoured man yanked out the keys to the vehicle and grabbed the wheel brace, seemingly charging the young couple. He passed closely by, and jammed the automobile tool through one of these Zed's eye sockets. A quick withdrawal, followed by an immediate swing to the temple put this Bandit to rest. He proceeded to smash in the cranium of the next 'volunteer'. Red 'paint' decorated the floor.


As soon as the man was finished killing a couple skull munchers, he swivelled towards the two that had ran towards him earlier.


@KuroNoKami39
 
After 35 minutes of preparation, Harris was ready to head out to the city to scavenge for supplies and hopefully not get eaten in the process. It was risky, but if he makes it it would be worth it. He managed to find himself a second bag in the woods which had two untouched canned foods, a half-empty milk carton, a hunting knife and a crowbar. He just found it hanging on the branch on a tree. The pain in his leg had vanished and now could run. He stepped out of the shed and started to walk through the forest, Chicago only being 12 minutes away. His plan was to stock up on food, enough to last at least a couple of days, a map, some new clothes and a vehicle like a car to drive out of Chicago.


The condition of the city was shocking; the buildings were destroyed and collapsed to some degree, be it completely or partly. Very few places remained untouched, like that convenience store down the road which he always used to visit. There weren't any zombies in this area of the city, with the exception of about 3 or 4 wandering ones, each far from each other. The convenience store was just down the road, and there wasn't any threat nearby. Sneaking and moving as silently as possible, Harris made his way towards the store and peeked through the glass window for any signs of danger. The store had been halfway looted, but there was still lots of things to scavenge. Some rows were filled with bags of chips, sodas, water bottles, chocolate and granola bars. The man slowly opened the entrance door and stepped through, looting everything he could fit in his bag. It was a lot of stuff, and the bag was heavy, not to mention he's also got the fire axe to carry. Dragging the heavy bag, he then walks to the parking lot where there were a few cars and a nearby gas station. He was going to need to find the keys for one of them if he wants to escape, and some gas if he's gonna travel a long distance.


Harris did a ton of searching through the parking lot and he found one car that was usable. It was a black pickup truck that had a huge scratch and smaller ones across the left side, and the insides of the seats and the window had some blood stained in it. The keys were still in the outside lock, suggesting that whoever owned it was desperate to escape but didn't make it in the end. Well, that didn't really matter to him because he was lucky to find it anyways. Harris opened the door and loaded all his stuff in the vehicle, but the fuel indicator showed there was a lack of gas. So once again, Harris had to get up and walk towards the gas station, somewhat tired carrying the bag of heavy stuff. He grabs some gas cans and loads them up with fuel, then walking once again to the car and loading it up with gas. He starts the pickup truck up and starts to drive away onto the road, and starts to drive out of the city.
 
Heather knocked twice on the heavy wooden door before she opened it, entering just in time to see two of Laden's pretty young girls scurrying off towards the private bathroom. Upon seeing his face, she felt her stomach flutter with something she couldn't put into words. She fought back a smile that she felt tugging on the corners of her lips, telling herself over and over to relax, to calm down, or else he would notice something was off with her. Still, she couldn't help herself from wishing he'd invite her to come spend an afternoon with him. She waited patiently for the two other women to be out of earshot, even waiting until she heard the bathroom door quietly shut and the bath water running.

The blonde joined the young man on the balcony, watching him admire the product of all his hard work. After all, it was a marvelous sight, especially when considering all of the destruction just outside the walls. Above them, the sky was a dull grey and the dark clouds hanging overhead warned against an incoming storm yet the day still felt like a good one; for now, they were safely away from the horrors that lay await outside the walls. Still, with newcomers every day, there was much work that needed to be done. "Is there anything you'd like for me to take care of?" she asks, her voice soft.

@Broncos
 
Stopping short of the armory, Adam stopped for a while, panting heavily. It seems that even with youth and cardio on his side, he could not maintain high speeds across such distances. It was only 3, 4 blocks away, but granted, he had all his stuff, and his AKS-74U. He took refuge in an apartment, whose door was ruthlessly smashed open by what he presumes to be a big flock of zombies. It wasn't very likely that anyone survived.


Taking that into account, he sneaked his way into and up 2 floors, encountering no Z's on his way, although he could faintly hear grumbling and growling directly above him all the time. He peered out of a broken window, smashed either during the frantic struggle, or in desperation, as someone tried to jump out. His eyes could see everything: The armory, a black... van... and a, uh... pair of teenagers or something, and... a big, BIG guy in a gas mask and everything. A riot suit, kind of. The big bloke was in the process of redecorating the pavement with zombie brain tissue, it seems, and there also seems to be a lot more heading his way. Although it doesn't look like any of them have taken notice, seeing the zombies were heading in from the rooftops. Adam has no idea how they got up there, but he isn't going to stand by and watch more people get eaten alive. He's had enough of that.


In what would be one of his more... stupid actions, he took up aim with his gun, and started tapping lightly on the trigger. Single shot after single shot. The first two missed, as he hadn't figured out the range, but the third, fourth, fifth one hit spot on, as, at this range, even his short-barrel AK is accurate... enough. Some shots veered down too much, hitting the thing in the neck, some flew harmlessly overhead.


He had emptied an entire magazine into that group, but there are still more of them left. 15, or something. Suddenly, the growling upstairs turned to roaring and howling, and heavy footsteps could be heard. Adam knew he had to get the hell out of there. And soon, a zombie appeared at the top of the stairwell, roaring to the others, signifying food. The roar didn't last long, however, as it was ended with a 5.45mm to the head. More zombies came, 3, 4 of them, rumbling down the stairwell. The front one was dispatched, and Adam booked it out of there. He used his hatchet to pull what's left of the chain "door" closed, and quickly axed one zombie in the head as it narrowly misses his fingers.


Adam immediately ran towards the armory and the van, adrenaline pumping properly now.


"HEEEEYY!! FRIEND, NO SHOOT! FRIEND, NO SHOOT!!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, holding his gun up in the air, showing that he means no harm. His English was terrible, but it was better than sneaking up on them and giving them a good jumpscare. He was really worried about this decision, as he had seen other people die like this before. To bandits. Those who shoot without mercy. He was praying, even though he believed in no god, that these people were more decent.


@AxelWelrod @KuroNoKami39
 
Shiro gasped when the zambies appeared, she'd thought they'd left them behind at her dad's office! noted, she never actually saw any of them up close. but after seeing them she could confirm that they were not as cute as Kuro had said they were, and watching the tall mystery man 'touch' them, she almost threw up on herself. well, the blow of seeing death of zambies had been softened by her brother telling her that they spilled red 'paint' when they were touched because they were just really sensitive, that cheered her up a bit! she smiled, maybe it was a good idea to meet this mysterious mystery man! she dusted off her dress and adjusted her bow preparing to properly greet the stranger. flashing her  *trademark* Shiro Style Smile, (which in reality was just a large and overly cheerful grin) and said in a tone way too cheerful seeing the situation "eh hem... Hiya! i'm Shiro Kaname, the petite guy with the headphones over there is my older brother, Kuro! and we'd like a ride! thank you in advance mr. mysterious stranger man! by the way, what's your name?" realizing she just asked a personal question, which if your asking a stranger for help in the apocalypse probably wasn't a good idea, she backpeddled  "but! if you don't wanna tell us that's fine! we can just call you mr. mysterious stranger man!"


this was when someone with poor English came running through, Shiro's eyes seemingly gaining a sparkle as soon as the word 'friend' was uttered. Shiro smiled ridiculously wide and turned to face him. 


meanwhile with the panicking midget, when the zambies came around he watched as the man dispatched a few of them and Kuro swore he heard gunshots in the distance, it was probably just his weird brain messing with him he decided. he quickly took out Betsy, just in case, though he wasn't to be trusted with sharp objects that wasn't of concern anymore. it was the apocalypse, anything goes! as long as that anything didn't ruin his sisters innocence with blood splatter which he noticed was currently painting the ground in red. glaring at the stranger, he noticed they had a significant height advantage. oh well, he had the power of being hopped up on anti-psychotics and a little sister to protect. if that man dared try an- his thoughts were cut off by Shiro reintroducing herself and introduces him as 'petite'. as much as he liked the large understatement, he wasn't sure if she should have started out with that. but what did he know? he was the guy who had no friends and sat in the counselors office during lunch because they weren't trusted around other human beings that bully him! though this storm of thoughts showed not on his face.


as soon as he was starting to fall down the rabbit hole of anger, someone screamed in really really bad English. he turned to face the stranger and held up Betsy in paranoia of the new man who was obviously foreign, whom of which was saying he was a 'friend', though foreigners (and people in general) weren't to be trusted easily. he'd seen this is bad zombie shows before, they run up to them pretending they're a friend until... BAM! they shoot you with the gun they still had in hand and steal your stuff and become the main protagonist of the show with a sick daughter and a dead wife who was actual his twin sister!! he shook his head, when this was all over, or when he was dead and in hell, he really had to start watching better TV programs. 


@Kabboom @AxelWelrod
 
Laden was a bit startled when he heard Heather come in. Laden knew her, she was his financial advisor and helped kept the economy going during all this chaos. The girl had a major crush on him, he knew and not to mention how obedient she was to him. She was almost like a lapdog the way she acted and he almost laughes at how pathetic she is. Such wasted intelligence on the flaw of being submissive. Laden sometimes wondered if this could have been him in alternative scenario but that was something he wouldn't worry about. He then said to her "Heather, you do realize it is rude to intrude on your king without me first inviting you in?"


@Cassiopeia
 
"I - I'm sorry, master," Heather stuttered, her entire face turning the color of cherries. Her ears burned with embarrassment and she couldn't bring herself to meet his gaze, taking a particular interest in the balcony floor. "I tried to knock." Yet even as she said this, she knew all her attempts to defend herself would be futile, more than likely falling upon deaf ears. Since he found her trapped in a house on the verge of being eaten alive, she has seen more than a few of his cruel and unusual punishments - and how, in a split second, he could change back into the same charming, charismatic man that wooed over group after group of survivors. 


Heather wasn't completely oblivious, though, and the scowl on King Laden's face was enough to tell her she fucked up. She shifted uncomfortably under his harsh gaze, her heart nearly pounding out of her chest. His disapproval meant more to her than she'd care to admit, instead blaming her fear of upsetting him based on the fact that she relied on him so heavily to meet all of her basic needs. Every second that passed just added to her discomfort. "I truly am sorry."


@Broncos
 
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This mystery man looked on in awe at the sheer stupidity displayed this day. Another had approached, yelling out to him and everything. If only this oncoming stranger had realised that their actions attracted a crowd of a few dozen Zeds on the horizon. A wheel brace wouldn't exactly be useful to complete such a fete. It was about time to withdraw from the scene and to avoid becoming an afternoon Zed delicacy.


This figure draped in riot protection had almost considered leaving behind the three musketeers that had just fucked everything up. But then again, it was best to have some morals in the apocalypse. Best to avoid becoming one of those raider types. And as an added bonus, there would be other people to carry everything.


After slamming the door shut to the driver's seat, this man would roll down the window and poked his head out of the window. A muffled voice penetrated through the gas mask, declaring "Get in the back!" 


@KuroNoKami39 @Kabboom
 
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Val continued down the urban canyon that was downtown Montreal. All was quiet except for the occasional sounds of an armed struggle, and the distant buzz of airplanes. He figured he'd scavenge once more building, then call it a day and return home. He found a nice little small apartment building, and figured he'd go scavenge that. He opened, the door, and wen into the first open apartment. There were two Zeds which weren't much of a threat to Val, as well as some painkillers, that would likely be of use to someone back at base. He continued upstairs to the second floor, where he heard some noise coming from one of the rooms. He pulled out his rifle as the door opened, revealing three guys wearing combat vests. They were wielding pistols, with the leader using an MP5. "Hands up, Aviateur" They said. Val kew who these people were almost immediately. They were members, albeit low-ranking ones of Perelin, Les Aviateur's biggest local enemy. The three stripped Val of his guns, then sat him down in the corner of the apartment, with ne of the mercs keeping watch on him with Val's rifle. Outside, however, there was a loud engine roar, and the sound of muffled music. Val smiled and gave a small laugh. "What's so funny?" asked the guarding merc. "Oh, nothing, nothing" Val replied and waited for the inevitable  
 
Adam was really scared, when the gas mask guy seemingly got in his van, prepared to abandon him and the two teens. But he was relieved when the window rolled down and the muffled voice told him to get in the back. Adam quickly circled around the back, and opened the back doors, and he was quite surprised at what he saw. Looks like this IS the armory. Bullets, weapons, armor, gloves, helmets, flashlights, guns, magazines, clips, firearms, knives, daggers, cutlery, all were stocked up inside. There was barely any room left for Adam, let alone with the two other teenagers.


But he had no time, as the zombies were getting close, the ones from the apartment apparently having overcome his temporary blockade, and the ones on the rooftop are making their way down. Adam fires a few parting rounds at the nearest ones, and squeezed himself into the back of the van. He could just hear his mother talking to him.


"Adam, when you go America, if any man tell you to get in his van, run away, okay, Adam-ska?"


He suppressed a giggle, as he yelled out to the kids. "TRUCK LEAVE, GET IN!!"


@AxelWelrod @KuroNoKami39
 
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Shiro, despite her (not really) better judgement, hearing Mr. Mysterious Mystery Stranger Man say 'get in the back' and the guy with poor English said a sentence that made no sense out of context, she ran into the back of the van and quickly climbed in as the man with really poor English had done. it was really crowded and she was really upset being around weapons of mass destruction, at least there were flashlights! those were always fun. she'd barely fit but managed to find a way to sit down amidst all the mess. it was a huge bad omen, she could see why the zambies started attacking! there were probably a lot of Urami around this area. she took off her Dorei bell and held it up to her ear and began jingle jangling it, in her eyes, she was purifying the area. in other words, she was just making noise for the sake of the Urami! 


meanwhile, Kuro, noticing the zambies, ran to the back of the van with his sister as the other two people yelled at them to do so. for a split second he almost decided to drag Shiro back out but the overwhelming horde of zambies was a bit too much to handle alone, plus Shiro would be helpless against the oncoming horde. he quickly climbed in and was greeted with an extremely cramped space. quickly closing the van door behind himself, he ended up sitting partially on the stranger with bad English, while putting the backpack on his lap instead of the original over his shoulder. he looked around at all the weapons to try to forget about the fact his sister stole the good spot of not sitting on anyone! he shook his head and looked around, staring at the equipment in sheer amazement. he knew there'd be a lot of stuff back here but he hadn't expected this much! plus, he usually wasn't allowed around forks when there were adults around, let alone guns and knives! he was grinning like a school girl who was just asked out to the prom, forgetting about his strange seating situation. though, Shiro's bell ringing was starting to get a little annoying he pushed his headphones onto his ears to work as a fancy noise muffler, well they kept his ears warm too so that was a plus. he screamed as loudly as he could "DRIVE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER, DRIVE!!!" 


@AxelWelrod @Kabboom
 
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More sound. More sound just had to be made. A quick peek at the rear view mirror revealed another crowd of the undead dead approaching the position of the police vehicle. It was about time to get a move on and not get close and personal with a rotting corpse.


A foot encased in a boot smashed into the throttle pedal. Luckily these vans were automatics. This law enforcement vehicle jolted forward, soon reaching a speed of 30 miles per hour. The man behind the wheel narrowly missed the zombie party, passing through a small gap and clipping a couple of the Zeds. At least today wasn't the day to die. Well, hopefully it wasn't. It might be with the others now around.


@Kabboom @KuroNoKami39
 
Laden almost laughed. He knew how much of a coward this girl could get, how much she would bow before him. Hell, he didn't even require non-slaves to call him Master, just by normal royal titles. But here she was, pleading to him. "How pathetic," he thought as turned to the girl. He then said "Do not worry, just please don't walk into my room like that. Also, could you pour me some wine, my throat's dry,"


@Cassiopeia
 
They'd been travelling for...how many days, again? Jay didn't really keep count, honestly. They were somewhere near Chattanooga. Glancing around the lightly wooded area, he spotted Lookout Mountain in the distance. The tent behind him was where Jane was sleeping, they'd been together since the beginning. Well, travelling together, not together together. There was a bit too much running for their lives for sitting down for a romantic candlelit dinner. Jay shifted his body to make himself comfortable on the log he was perched on. The quiet chirping of birds was interrupted by a playful growl of a dog. Turning his head, a smile crossed his lips as he saw Skye trotting toward him. The girl pretty much saw him as her second owner by now. He ruffled the hair on the scruff of her neck, the dog wagging its tail happily. "Surprised you didn't stay with Jane while she slept," he murmured.


@Catharsis
 
"Sir? You should come and see this!" One of the mercs called to the leader. Him and the merc guarding Val stepped towards the window. The roaring of the vehicle drew closer, as did sounds of Quebecois rock. An unseen force fired through the window of the apartment, killing on of the mercs. "Shit! Get down there, don't let em get the guy here!" The two remaining mercs ran down the stairs towards the unseen vehicle, and Val got up and started regathering his gear. Taking up his rifle, he glanced out the window to see his mysterious rescuers. Just as he expected, an orange and silver painted Subaru was parked just outside the building. In front of it, several people, clad in similar gear to him, were exchanging fire with the mercs. One person, firing an Uzi from inside the Soob, looked up and waved at Val. "We're coming to get you" he barely heard the guy say. The mercs were quickly dealt with by the Aviateurs, and Val made his way downstairs to meet up with his crew.
 
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