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ReadingTheRunes

Proud to be pagan
Katja came to the city to find answers. There were broadcasts on any device that could pick up the signal. "An unknown disease is spreading throughout the world. Get to a safe area and don't take unnecessary risks. The cities will be under the protection of the army and air force…" That message kept replaying over and over without even saying what kind of disease. Was it a virus, bacteria or fungi? No one knew. They didn't even say what symptoms the people had and perhaps the government didn't even know; or perhaps they were unwilling to say so.

Katja lived on the outskirts of the city, with food already low. If there was indeed a disease outbreak, she would need food. Her backpack had the bare necessities, with a knife just to be careful of possible overstimulated looters. supermarket was the first port of call. Arriving at the supermarket, she started searching for tinned goods that would last.

Not long after, people were screaming outside, the army on the streets were urging people to run to the nearest safe place. With no warning, she was ambushed by a person. Only, they were not acting like a person at all; almost rabid. "Stay away!" Katja screamed, running out of the store with only a can of tinned pears. The nearest safe building was the town hall; a recreational centre which was also used for polling. Running as fast as she could, which is not fast, she ran to safety; not knowing what was happening. Others ran into the building before it was barricaded by the army as they started opening fire on the rabid acting people.
 
Aspen, like just about everybody else, had been keeping a haphazard eye on the news. There were occasional broadcasts about things he actually cared about, after all, and as he was visiting his mother, it happened. "An unknown disease is spreading throughout the world." Hearing that, a chill ran down his spine. His mother had been feeling under the weather recently, sluggish and lethargic in a way that was not unlike a flu.

He made his way to his mother and father's bedroom, hearing shuffling sounds from within. "Mooooom? You okay?" He asked, knocking on the door gently with his knuckles. At the noise, his mother, or presumably his mother, starts to slam her body against the door. He slowly backs away from the door, horror taking over his face as the slamming gets louder and louder, followed by low growls and grunts. He covers his mouth with his hand as the door rattles with the strength of the incessant slamming. Aspen slowly backs away from the door, noticing that the door handle is rattling, like someone is trying to open the door but their hand keeps slipping off, like it's covered in lotion.

With that, Aspen has had enough. "Stay here and stay safe, mom! I'm going to go to town hall, see if anybody needs help. You know that the garden is full of vegetables this time of year, surely someone needs food." He starts towards the door, and hesitates before picking up the baseball bat from his brother's baseball days that is still leaning against the coat stand by the door. He pats down his pockets, noting that he accidentally took a packet of carrot seeds from the store. Oh well, he'll return it later. Surely this disease will be over quickly.

Entering the street from the eerily quiet apartment building, he stops, before being slammed into the side by a man. Caucasian, overweight, and currently attempting to bite him. Aspen quickly pushes him away with the baseball bat, smacking him hard in the side, all the while apologizing. "What the hell is going on?" He murmurs, finally noticing the chaos and the town hall, about a block away, with many people running into it. He makes his way towards the building, his walk turning into a jog turning into a run as people acting strangely jerk towards him. Holding his baseball bat loosely, he rushes into the building, noting that the army has started to barricade the doors. He pats his pockets down nervously, taking stock of himself. A water bottle hangs off his belt loop, he's got his wallet in his back pocket, and his reading glasses in one of the front pockets. No injuries other than the rapidly forming bruise from where the man had grabbed at him.

He frowns as the army opens fire, his eyes widening. "What the hell is going on?" He repeats, louder, now asking the terrified people around him. Determination to get answers is written all over his face. Then he notices her. A woman, mid-thirties, with a scratch several inches long that is sluggishly bleeding.

"Ma'am, are you okay?" He asks, making his way over and squatting down next to her like a kid in a soccer huddle, quickly putting on a small smile. His voice is gentle, as he props up his arm on his knee. "That's an awful lot of blood." Aspen then rips a strip off his own too-big shirt to press to the wound. The woman hisses, but says nothing as she starts to shiver. Is this shock? He swears, looking around for something to cover her shoulders with. That's what people do on TV, so it must have some basis in real world application, right?
 
Miles was panting hard and sweat was dripping down his brow. His soccer team were beginning to show signs of fatigue, even the try-hards, as they turned to run the length of the field again. Their coach had gotten some call over his walkie and told the team to keep running suicides till he got back. The red faced man hopped in his golf cart and drove up the thin paved road back towards the main campus. Due to poor planning when they were building the school, the sports fields were set off away from the main building. This fact every member of every sports team curses whenever it's time for practice. A jog they would most defiantly have to do back to the school once their coach got back.

That was more than twenty minutes ago. One by one, the team began to slow and eventually stop, looking uneasily up the path, waiting on the electric whir of the golf cart coming down the hill. WHen that sound never came and unsure what to do, everyone gravitated towards the small row of bleachers where their supplies were kept to get drinks and mop up sweaty foreheads. Surely the coach didn't mean to leave them hanging, right?
"Alright!", his teammate, Dylan, snapped, " You ladies can stick around for the wrath of Coach. I'm going home"
The teen slung his duffel over his shoulder and began to walk away from the school. The rest of the team shuffled uncomfortably before eventually, one by one, each member gathered up their equipment and scattered to head home for the day.

Miles collapsed heavily on the hard plastic seat of the city bus and plugged his ears with his headphones. Luckily he wasn't planning on doing his homework tonight anyway so it was no trouble that he left his school backpack in his locker. All he really needed was his sweaty cloths, his cleats and his water bottle all safely tucked away in his drawstring bag on the seat beside him. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes as the bus pulled away from the curb. The ride would be a short one so he was careful not to doze off.

Miles was jolted awake and thrown roughly against the metal interior of the bus. He cried out in surprised as he tried to get his bearings on his surroundings. He was wet, from blood or water he was unsure. He could smell the suffocating smoke of burning plastic and hear the disjointed screams of a a crowd of people. Miles shuffled his body so he was sitting upright and glanced around. He was still in the bus but said bus was no longer on it's wheels. Miles drug himself to his feet and made his way towards the front door. The bus was on it's side but he could still see through the busted windshield. Miles cried out for help as a person poked their head into the destroyed bus. The man made a sound that could only be described as a struggling gasp and an excited squeal and tumbled forwards into the bus. Miles froze on the spot when the man's entire body was visible. For the brief moment the man was face down, Miles could see the wet glisten of blood completely covering the back of his shirt. The damage was so extensive he could not see where the blood soaked fabric ended and the wound began. Miles made a noise he would be embarrassed of and backpedaled, tripping when his legs got tangled in his drawstring bag. The teen whimpered and slid away. The man was having trouble getting back to his feet. It seemed like his left leg would not respond but the man didn't notices. Miles ripped his legs free and slung the bag at the bloody and groaning man.

His shoes hit hard pavement as he lept from the emergency exit door in the back of the bus. For the first time he was seeing the madness that unfolded in the city on his way home from school. Miles couldn't quite comprehend what he was witnessing. At first it seemed like large mobs of people were running from place to place, weaving in between cars and bursting from shop windows. It was only when he saw a blood soaked man tackle a mother and her child did he understand that it was people were chasing people. Other people were the danger? That couldn't be right.

The teen was jolted from his trance when a cop rounded the corner and held up his gun. Miles threw up his hands and looked into the man's fear stricken eyes, the cops are scared. the chilling realization shot to the forefront of his thoughts and brought a new wave of fear surging through his blood. It seemed that the officer relaxed a bit and went to say something, "Hey Kid! Are y-" he was cut short when a wild haired woman jumped on his back and sank her teeth into the side of his neck. He screamed and began to shoot over his shoulder wildly. Mile's hands shot up to protect his ears from the pressure wave of the gun shots. It wasn't like how the movies make it seem. The sound alone felt like an attack. The next thing Miles knew there were no more gunshots. Miles did not see but the cop had clipped the side of his head, knocking him out and effectively leaving him for zombie lunch. Miles scrambled to his feet and gazed at the woman still munching on the cop. His eyes darted from the woman, to the gun on the ground, and back to the woman. Without another thought, he grabbed the gun and took off down the street, the training from earlier that day forgotten as his body surged with new energy.

Miles tore down the street following the flow of people. His eyes were locked on the white marble building at the end of the street. He remembered a little factoid from his Local History class in middle school. The white marble building was town hall, town hall has a fallout shelter. This felt like a "fallout shelter" type of situation.
HE was almost at the steps when the men inside opened fire into the street. Miles stopped so hard he slid in a puddle of blood on the sidewalk at the bottom of the steps and landed on his ass for the third time in the past five minutes. The teen got back to his feet and dashed into a nearby ally, keeping his head down as bullets thudded the pavement around him.

Once in the alleyway, Miles quickly assessed his surroundings, Ok. Roof access. Twenty yards, ten feet up. Wall run onto dumpster. Off Dumpster, snag ladder. GO Miles smirked as he got his footing on the metal bars of the lock cage on the roof access ladder. He felt like such a bad-ass and rode that high all the way to the roof.

Once he determined he was safe and got his breath back, Miles wandered to the edge to get a look at the events unfolding. He couldn't look at what he saw for very long. All those people in the streets being chased down by their fellow man and... it was too much to watch. Instead, Miles found a way to get onto the roof of town hall. Before this all hit, it seems like a construction crew was working on restoring one of the damaged windows on the upper floor of the town hall. A scaffolding rig was still suspended from the roof and there were still some framing 10x4's on the roof he was on. It was just a matter of carefully bridging the gap, not looking down, and slipping inside the dark building.
 
Liam didn’t believe the news at first. It seemed absurd that a disease would spread so quickly, and he had more important things on his mind.

After seeing a bloody lunatic tackle a man and bite him, Liam stole a fire ax from his apartment and ran towards the town hall (he’d heard somewhere that it was the most defensible place in the town). He wasn’t proud of stealing, but he needed a weapon to protect himself from the lunatics in the street. Liam managed to get into the building, and leaned against a wall in relief.

“Fuck, can someone please explain what the hell is happening?!” Liam half shouted. “Why are people biting each other?”
 
With a roll of her eyes Ellie slammed her hand against the middle of the steering wheel of her old Toyota. Traffic was at a stand still and she needed to get home to her father. The car horn blared, the sound bouncing off the walls of the buildings in the city. She pulled her phone out of the front pocket of her scrubs and tried to call her father. Straight to voice-mail. Furrowing her brows, she threw her phone into the passenger seat and looked up. People were exiting their cars and taking off in all directions.

"What the hell?" She mumbled as she grabbed her backpack and her gun, exiting her own vehicle. Ellie clipped the gun to the back waistband of her scrubs and started to walk toward the screams. If it was a car accident or something the woman could help a small bit. She didn't know anything about human medicine but its pretty much all the same.

Her eyes widened at the sight of multiple soldiers. Their guns were up, and they were shooting. A hand grabbed her shoulder and pushed her through a door, into a town hall. She fell forward, her elbows hitting the hard tile floor. Scrambling onto her rear end she backed against the wall and looked at all the faces of the other people stuck in here.

"What is happening..."
 
Arthur's day was going well with his shopping as he had no difficulty finding all the things he needed and people mostly minded their own business beyond just a polite "Hello" once in a while. Hell, at the last store of his shopping spree people were being skittish and nervous as they raced through aisles to fill their carts with all kinds of things. It pissed him off to no end and at one point he even started grumbling at the people who were being so reckless, of course they all had to be in their early twenties. At least he never went anywhere without his M9 Beretta in the holster on his hip. He acquired the last of the items on his shopping list and paid for them at the checkout line.

He went back to his truck to load the last of his shopping in the trunk and he mostly ignored people being frantic and panicked around him, it wouldn't have been the first time ended up in a panic over something absolutely stupid and he'd rather not get involved in the stupidity of others. The parking lot where he parked his truck was largely empty, a tad odd for that time of day but he paid little heed to it, popped his trunk and piled the last of his items into the well-filled trunk. Now all he had to do was get some paperwork done at City Hall and post a card for his niece Ellie's birthday on a delayed delivery so it would get to her on the day of her birthday itself. He got her a nice card with a bunch of cartoon dogs with party hats sitting around a cake with "Happy Barkday!" in colorful letters at the top.

As he put the card in his pocket and locked his car he turned around and was confronted by a disheveled looking person stumbling to him. The guy got closer and reached his arms out to Arthur and Arthur wasn't going to be bothered by some homeless person. "Get lost, I don't have change for the likes of you." He grumbled at the individual and would've left it at that if the guy didn't lurch forward and try to grab him. Instinct kicked in and Arthur grabbed the person's arms before in one swift motion threw the guy over his shoulder onto the sidewalk which he followed with a well placed kick to the back of the head that would dazed and shortly knock out any guy. "Stinking junkies." Arthur said as he spit on the motionless guy before walking away.

He had decided to get the paperwork sorted out first at the city hall just in case it would be busy or closing up earlier due to the whole nonsense going on right now. Things were pretty calm when he got there, he took his ticket with his waiting number and sat down on one of the benches to ease up on his bad knee and in case he'd have to wait a while and waiting he would. The next number was called forward and after that the number never progressed for quite a long while, he was going to get up and give the staff a piece of his mind when a whole stream of people got ushered into the building by military personnel who afterwards started barricading the entrances and firing at something. That did get his attention and he promptly pushed his way through the people towards one of the windows at the front side of the building to see. What he saw did make him reevaluate his encounter with the junkie earlier as he watched as whole numbers of people looking like they got mauled by wildlife shambled towards screaming people and being shot at by the soldiers. Did they get hit by some bio weapon of some sort?

The panicking of the people in the building behind him and their incessant yelling of 'What is going on?' did get on his nerves so he turned around. "Will the lot of you shut the hell up and sit down?!" He yelled out over the crowd. "Your yelling and screaming ain't productive and downright pisses me off! Have none of you ever served in a combat zone?" He then looked at the crowd expecting it to either listen like a bunch of sheep, keep pissing him off to push him over the edge or just do something that isn't just a waste of time.
 
James rubbed the back of his neck as he drove through the side streets home. It had been nice seeing his old station buddies and to just forget about everything for a little bit. He turned on the radio to his favorite country music station and there it was again. The broadcast that cut his dinner short because his buddies had to work. He missed those days being with his team saving lives. . . coming home to his wife and Jack Jack. James began to let his kind wander to thoughts of being in the back yard BBQ going Jack running around Mary playing with him and a cold beer in his hand. thud James was jolted out of his day dream to see a person falling to the floor in front of his car o God, o God no not again not again he thought as he climbed out of his truck to check on the person.

"Hey are you ok.", he called as he rounded the hood, but he was greeted by a response he was expecting. This person- a woman as far as James could make out- snarled at him and began drooling at the mouth as she got up. Her leg was badly damaged but it didn't seem to bother her as she lunged at James. "Ma'am what are you doing." James held out his arms holding the women back as she began to nash her teeth at him like she was trying to bite into him. He shoved her back but she began to chase him, he pushed her back again and again she lunged at him with no regard to the state of her own leg. "Ma'am please I'm warning you. I'll defend myself if you keep coming at me.", his words fell on deaf ears as she rushed at him arms outstretched bashing her teeth. James backed up the bed of his truck and punched the punched the women in the chest thinking that would stop her pursuit, but no dice she got up off the floor and kept coming at him. He reached into the bed of his truck and pulled out the first thing he could- his sons old hockey stick- and held it up "I don't wanna do anything drastic but I'm within my rights to defend myself." again the words fell on deaf ears. Just then James heard screaming and looked over to see an old women getting attacked on her porch by 2 people that were acting just like the women in front of him. He faced the women again and gripped the stick in his hand. Feeling an urge he hadn't felt since he worked for the station he swung and connected with the side of her head sending her to the floor. James reached into his truck grabbing his bag and throwing it over his shoulder as well as the old leg guard he had in the bed and rushed over to help the old woman. He ran up swinging and knocking the two attackers over the railing before rushing to help the old lady. He knelt down grabbing the first aid kit he had inside opening it, it was sparse to say the least he hadn't kept it up for a while. "Don't worry ma'am I'm here to help." , he looked into her eyes seeing fear in them and put his hand on her shoulder. She had a couple of major bite wounds one on her neck another on her arm. James took a pair of gloves he had in his kit and put them on before grabbing a couple of the few bandages he had and dressing her wounds the best he could. "What's your name ma'am I'm James.", he smiled at the women as he continued to dress he wounds "m.. Margret", she said with shakey breath. "Well Margret it's nice to meet you I'm here ok I'm not going anywhere. Do you have anyone I can take you to to take care of you." Margret nods "mmy son he is in the army there at town Hall.. I...I was just heading that way when those men attacked me." James looked around and didn't see any other crazed people nearby and thought about his options. They weren't to far from town Hall but he wasn't sure if Margret could walk in her condition. "Ok, do you think you can stand I can pull my truck up and I can take you to your son." Margret nodded again and with help James was able to get her on her feet and leaning against the railing. "Ok I'll be right back my truck is just there in the street." James ran to his truck and climbed in but when he turned the key all he got was a clicking sound no not now he thought as he climbed out to check under his hood. He couldn't tell what was wrong he never was the best mechanic. He angrily slammed the hood and looked out. He could see the top of town Hall so they were far at all, he ran back to Margret "bad news my truck won't start but we aren't far can you make it on foot..." Just then one of the two attackers he had knocked over the rail reached up pulling Margret to the floor and biting into her leg. She screamed out and clung to James arm as the man began to eat at her leg. James recoiled for a second, he hand never seen anyone do that but he knew he had to act fast. He tried to pull away from Margret but she wouldn't let go, she was hysterical "Margret let me go or I can't help you." She just kept screaming for James to help her. He tried to swing the hockey stick at the man but with just his left arm it wasn't doing much. Suddenly she let go of James and grabbed at her chest, he didn't waste any time getting up and swinging hard at the man's back knocking him off. This time James didn't stop swinging till the man wasn't moving. He stood there huffing for a second before going over to Margret. She wasn't moving, James checked her pulse, there was nothing. He sat back against the railing tears starting to fall calmly he said "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Margret." What was going on James had to find out, Margret said her some was in the army and at town hall. Weird why would the army be here, he needed answers. James stood up and began to walk to town hall, when he got there he saw that the army was rushing people inside. Before he could think james heard the sound of gun fire and felt himself running into the building as well before the doors were barricaded.
 
Ellie couldn't help but cringe slightly at the voices, the yelling, and the gun shots. Everyone needed to stay quiet. They didn't know what was going on and the army was outside the building shooting people. She used the wall as leverage to push herself up onto her feet. Taking a step forward to cross the main hall they were in, she almost got knocked over again. This time by a man twice her size. She mumbled a obscenity under her breath at the man before looking around at everyone.

She didn't know what to do. A man was helping an injured woman, no help needed there, and another shouting about people biting. Before she could pipe up to say something a loud booming voice made her jump. "Will the lot of you shut the hell up and sit down!"

As quick as she could, Ellie turned on her heel to give this man a peice of her mind but was stopped in her tracks.

"Holy shit..." Her eyes blinked at the man. "HOLY SHIT! NO WAY!" Her voice echoed though the long hallway. "Uncle Arthur?"

She stepped closer to the man to examine him. He looked the same as the photos just more worn and more grey. The young woman couldn't believe her eyes. "I can't believe it! It's Ellie! Chris, your brother? His daughter!" A smile crept onto her lips. She had never met the man but was told many stories about how much of a badass he was.
 
Aspen's head jerks up when the man starts yelling. He frowns at this, shushing the woman next to him when she jumps. "You're okay, it's just a loud man. Relax." He wraps the shirt scrap tighter around her arm, and smiles winningly at the woman. "Hold onto that for me, will you?" He asks, voice smooth and kind and not at all betraying the sheer fear he feels, seeing the army shoot the... people outside, who keep flinging themselves in front of the bullets like they're candy and not tools of death.

He stands up, stretching out his legs, about to talk to the man and explain, patiently, that people are frightened, when the woman in scrubs starts to yell too. At least her yelling is in a much happier tone. Looks like a family reunion. He brushes off his knees absentmindedly, like he was expecting there to be dirt there and was moving on autopilot. He then picks up his baseball bat again, gripping it loosely but not willing to let go of what little he has. He can feel himself trying to drift off, dissociate, and shakes his head minutely, closing his eyes.

What was wrong with his mother, then, if all those people outside are acting, well, crazy? Was she... in the same boat? His eyes fixate on a point in the distance, in the direction of the outside world, which he can barely see with the barricade. He then pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on with all the noise. He would kill for some ibuprofen right about now.
 
The difference in atmosphere was jarring. Going from deafening cacophony of the outside world to the almost suffocating silence of the inside of the building. Miles sat crouched in the darkness for several minutes, straining his ears to hear threats over his attempts to catch his breath. The events of the past few minutes raced through his head. He was trying to get a grasp on what was happening, trying to rationalize it somehow. A quick peek out the window to the street below stopped all rational explanations in their tracks. It was the end of the world, it had to be.

Miles eventually mustered up the courage to creep from his hiding place and figure out where he was. It seemed to be an office space of some kind, beige dividers created the cubicles that split each desk as far as he could see. More importantly, he was alone. Miles padded down the main aisle towards the door out. He knew that at least as long as none of those...things got in, he was safe. The reassurance that thought brought was cut short when he reached the exit. From the hallway he could hear shouting and automatic gunfire. Miles swallowed hard and pushed through the door.

Every step Miles took made him cringe, the sounds of his footfalls echoed off the cold, stone walls. His plan was to get to the people with guns, they would keep him safe and tell him where to go. The tension he was carrying was beginning to make his neck and shoulders ache. Eventually, Miles came to another room. This time the double doors where propped open with an overturned chair. HE peeked into the room and struggled to focus in the gloom. It seemed to some kind of large conference room. He could make out rows of chairs all facing something deeper in the room, maybe a stage or a screen.
"H-hello" Miles called out weakly. In response he heard something move. Miles tensed and his hand shot to the pistol poking out of his waistband. There was a bang that made Miles jump then silence. Curiosity getting the better of him, He stepped over the chair and entered the room. Not a few steps later, a figure stepped into the feint pool of light being cast from the cracked door. Miles gasped and backpedaled. The reanimated person screeched with a gurgling sound and lumbered towards him. Miles brought up the gun and pulled the trigger. The gunshot was defining and his bullet found it's mark. However, Miles did not celebrate his small victory. In the short instant the muzzle flash lit up the room, he could see dozens of zombies turning to look his way with dead hunger in their eyes.

Miles tripped over the chair holding the door open in his hasty retreat. The pistol bounced off the ground and misfired, the stray bullet pinging off the wall further down the hall. He Kicked the doorstop free and the door slammed shut. A second after it shut, the door bulged outwards as several bodies slammed into it from the other side. Miles scrambled up and ran down the hall, snagging the gun as he ran. The slams against the closed wooden door were the last things he heard as he found a staircase that lead to the lobby.

Miles, wiser from his last encounter, cracked the door labeled "lobby" open and quickly looked around. It seemed like this was what he was looking for. There was people, bewildered and injured scattered around the large room. Men in military fatigues were stationed at the front doors, firing out into the street. Miles silently slipped into the room and shut the door behind him. He made his way over to join the crowd, the events upstairs momentarily forgotten.
 
Uncle Arthur... He hadn't been called that for near two decades.

He turned around and he looked at the young woman who claimed to be Ellie, his niece, she hardly looked like her but then again he hadn't actually seen Ellie since she was five. There was a little familiarity in her eyes that did seem to tug a bit on his memory but she definitely looked like she knew him. He couldn't be sure but he did figure that he could ask her a question only people who have been close to him would know.

"Well, if you're Ellie, what is my nickname?" He then bluntly asked whilst he instinctively pushes his birthday card for Ellie a bit deeper into his jacket's pocket.

Mentions: Emberspark Emberspark
 
Danvers:
Their mission was a bogus. Riots in the city they said, a couple of days and it should be fine they said, no fatalities predicted they said. Well there was nothing he could do about it now; the city was his post for the foreseeable future. At this point in time, the people caught up in this mess for his top priority.

When his unit was first stationed at the city hall a few days ago, it did seem like a normal riot. However, that was until the dead started rising. The first case he had seen with his own eyes is a rabid like person ripping out a man's jugular. After Dancers dispatched of her, he ran over to see the dead man on the floor. As he covered one of his men near the body, a hand grabbed his leg. It was impossible, but it was happening nonetheless. Thinking without hesitation Danvers stamped on the zombie's hand and fell back with the rest of his unit. "Fall Back!" their captain shouted before being assaulted to the floor by numerous attackers. "Captain!" He shouted back, "Everyone fall back!" Before he too fell back, he ran to his captain. However, all he could see was a bloody mess on the floor with four bogies seemingly eating him. "Fuck." There was nothing that Danvers could do; falling back with his team to the city hall. "Everyone get in!" He called out to everyone alive (not just his team). Danvers waited until everyone ran into the hall before blockading the door. "Right team I'm assuming command. We have been compromised. Get the door blocked with anything."

Katja:
She was greatful the the army for securing the building for now. There were at least ten survivors, including the army, in the hall. Looking around, she could already see a reunion happening. "I hate to cut into any moments, but does anyone know what is going on?" She said quietly. "I saw dead people come...come alive again. They were acting like rabid animals. It is like they're... zombies" Katja hated to say 'zombie' but everyone was thinking the same thing.
 
Danvers:
Their mission was a bogus. Riots in the city they said, a couple of days and it should be fine they said, no fatalities predicted they said. Well there was nothing he could do about it now; the city was his post for the foreseeable future. At this point in time, the people caught up in this mess for his top priority.

When his unit was first stationed at the city hall a few days ago, it did seem like a normal riot. However, that was until the dead started rising. The first case he had seen with his own eyes is a rabid like person ripping out a man's jugular. After Dancers dispatched of her, he ran over to see the dead man on the floor. As he covered one of his men near the body, a hand grabbed his leg. It was impossible, but it was happening nonetheless. Thinking without hesitation Danvers stamped on the zombie's hand and fell back with the rest of his unit. "Fall Back!" their captain shouted before being assaulted to the floor by numerous attackers. "Captain!" He shouted back, "Everyone fall back!" Before he too fell back, he ran to his captain. However, all he could see was a bloody mess on the floor with four bogies seemingly eating him. "Fuck." There was nothing that Danvers could do; falling back with his team to the city hall. "Everyone get in!" He called out to everyone alive (not just his team). Danvers waited until everyone ran into the hall before blockading the door. "Right team I'm assuming command. We have been compromised. Get the door blocked with anything."

Katja:
She was greatful the the army for securing the building for now. There were at least ten survivors, including the army, in the hall. Looking around, she could already see a reunion happening. "I hate to cut into any moments, but does anyone know what is going on?" She said quietly. "I saw dead people come...come alive again. They were acting like rabid animals. It is like they're... zombies" Katja hated to say 'zombie' but everyone was thinking the same thing.
Liam scoffed.
“Zombies? Come on. It’s probably rabies, or a bio weapon. Dead is dead.” Internally, he was worried that she’d be right. That would be bad. Really bad.

“Who thinks that these are dead people? Show of hands, or something.”
 

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