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Anyone! If anyone can hear this then I will have done some good in these horrible days. My name is Doctor Tinker. I'm at the CDC building in upper Henderson. We have food, shelter, and are searching for a cure. If anyone is out there, please come. I will open the doors every day at three o' clock. After ten minutes I will close them, and you'll have to wait another day. Please. We have food, shelter, and are searching for a cure.


April 2, 2010

"Get that bastard!" Yelled a small voice. The voice belonged to a young boy. By his height, he was probably around ten. He had short blond hair and his clothes were tattered. It was two weeks or so into the infection. Two weeks since the first outbreak. The boy was yelling to his older brother, a tall red-headed boy around nineteen. "Duck Alan!" He yelled, turning his head, his shoulder-length red hair flipping quickly as the young man turned his head towards his younger brother. Since the outbreak hygiene became practically a thing of the past. His hair had grown out and was dirty now.

Alan ducked as his brother shot, hitting one of those things in the head. It dropped to the floor. "Nice shot Michael!" Alan said, smiling. Michael let his gun go, the strap catching it and holding it at his waist. "No problem little brother. I have to keep you safe." Michael said, feeling the pain in his stomach after remembering his parents getting eaten by those things. "Ever since mom and dad." Alan's smile turned into a frown as he looked towards the ground. "I don't know what I would do if anything ha-" Michael's words were cut short as his brother screamed, an undead hand on his shoulder, and teeth in his head. "ALAN!"


April 16, 2010

"Please. We have food, shelter, and are searching for a cure."

Michael's eyes shot open at the final words of the broadcast. "Six already?" He whispered to himself. Six every morning the message would play, and then later again at twelve. "Got thirty minutes of sleep this time." Michael rubbed the side of his hand on his eyes, attempting to wake himself up. It had been an entire month since the outbreak. A month and two days to be exact. "A month and two days since I had to murder my parents. Two weeks since I had to murder my own brother." It seemed like an eternity since all of these events, but Michael would constantly remind himself. "I gotta stop that." He whispered, picking up the M16 on his chest.

He sat up, looking out of the window of the two story house he now stayed. He had no choice but to take refuge somewhere after his brother died. With only one person, it's not too smart to head out on your own unless it were for supplies every once in a while. "Damn." Michael whispered. "I haven't been able to build up the courage to leave this damn house and head to that building." Michael stood up and began walking around. "He's been playing that message for three weeks now. Including today. He's gotta still be there."

Michael looked outside the window. "Damn walkers." That's what he called them. "Walkers." There were probably many more names, but all they did was walk and bit. He felt it only appropriate to call them that. It had been about a week and a half since he saw another live human. On the outskirts of the strip, this house didn't attract many live humans. "That man said upper Henderson. I have to try and leave this place before it's too late. It'll take forever to get there." Michael looked at the sky through the window.

"Been pretty gloomy the past few weeks. Looks like it might rain." Michael checked the magazine on his gun, noticing the amount of bullets. "I'll have no choice but to leave out of here tomorrow. I'll grab some supplies at that Walmart over there, then leave. If there is any supplies." He said, looking at the Walmart in the neighborhood. It was a good five minute walk, which is what he'd have to be careful about. The more noise he made, the more walkers he attracted. "The last thing I need is some idiot running through here blasting off rounds. If I ever want to get out of here I have to do it soon."
 

Wicked

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|April 16|
James was finding it, day by day, easier to fall asleep. Once he got past the ‘holey-shit-I-might-die’ stage, it was simple. He’s recently found shelter in the sewers after those things took over his house and neighbourhood. Taking all the supplies he could, he went down a manhole and stayed hidden for days at a time. He’s lost count now.

They don’t eat the food from the surrounding houses, He thought. I haven’t seen a dead one of these things. Other than a bullet in the head. They don’t naturally die. They just...are. He was trying to understand them, work on the same brain length as them. Be one of them. A journal he keeps in his leather jacket records all of his findings. Behaviours. Emotions. Physical appearance. It would come in handy one day and gave him something to do whilst he figures out...well, he didn’t know what he was trying to figure out. The future really did seem like a blur. Not one of those “I don’t know what to do with my life” sort of things. Just, where does this all take him next? Where does the world take him next?

~

It’s just another day.
 

lionheart06

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April 16, 2010

This really isn't all too unfamiliar to Max, it wasn't even a few weeks prior that he had returned form a tour overseas. As a Ranger, it wasn't uncommon for there to be someone trying to kill you. Though, the usual would be assailants were actually smart, and they would attack from range. The key difference however, was that they were alive.

These things on the other hand, not so much. They were foul, decaying, bacteria infested, dumb. Max hated them. All they ever did was walk and bite. Apparently, they did still have senses though. They would follow a noise for miles. Actually, it was the reason Max was in this armory right now, he needed a suppressor. After all, you can't track a gunshot you can't hear. Right?

Max had found what he was looking for, while he did want a sidearm other than his bat, it probably wouldn't be the best idea to look for one by himself. He was already a sitting duck as it was in this gun store and he needed to get to his next stop ASAP. Weapons after all were useless, if you didn't have the energy to use them. Max walked out the door, his gun strapped over his shoulder, suppressor installed. The words "Die undead scum!" were painted onto the side of the gun in red letters. Max looked to his left, then his right. There were no visible threats about. He turned to his left again, around 10 blocks away was a large blue and white building with a huge parking lot, Wal-Mart. Hopefully there were still supplies left. He would need them if he was gonna make it all way to Henderson. Perhaps if he's lucky, he'll find someone that doesn't want to eat him.
 

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April 16,2010

"DAMN zombies killing my brother and my family they are going to pay for that my brother was close to me then these zombies show up and eat my FUCKING families brains good thing i had my sword i would be a goner now back to bussness with these zombies im slashing them in TWO in my family's honer"said Flood pulling her sword "say goodnight deadmeat and plain die forever"she said slashing them in half

"Good good you have talent to help me get rid of them"said a person "who are you"she said
 

Jozi

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Bam! Emile slowly lifted his Telecaster away from the busted head of the zombie, as it died gargling on it's own blood. He heard more limping, so he had decided to look around the corner, he only saw one lone figure in the shadows. "Hello?" He said with a slight French accent;

The figure stood for a few moments, but then it had started to walk to him. Than suddenly the figure looked up & made a noise, "Ehck," it was definitely a zombie. He new what he had to do, with a quick lunge forward he had stepped in front of the zombie. While also guarding himself with his guitar. And with a parry the zombie was hit to the ground. It had lay there, quietly. Emile went to walk away when he had heard another sound, he picked up his G11 & shot the being mercilessly at hip...
 

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April 16th

Lillian Thorns stood in the deserted street, she had been running for a long time now, since the creatures took over her home and neighbourhood. Lillian had no time but to run with little more then what she carried. Slowly she walked into the deserted town, her breath slowly and delibrate.
She looked at her surrounding, she needed a haven and that was where she was heading. As she walked down the street, she noticed a Walmart. Closed, but still contains remnants of food. She swiftly walked towards it. I can atleast grab something to eat, while I head to CDC buliding. Sticking to the shadows, Lillian made her way to the broken down building. The door was slightly ajar and through only a few pushs and tugs in came loose sending a shatter of glass around the area…Damn she thought…subtle she told herself sarcastically.

A murmur was heard as she saw a figure limping and moving towards her… There here…she pulled out her gun…only three bullets left…im screwed. She raced into the store and grabbed as much as she could cramming it into her bag, ranging from nails, to a hammer, to as much food as possible..there wasn’t much time to pick and choose.

The figure now came with friends, a few other creatures had made there way into the building, blocking the entracnce…

“God damit she asked herself…looking around she needed to find away to get past them…then she would run as fast as she could out of the city… but she had nothing… “Wait…” she grabbed the hammer out of her bag and threw it as hard as she could.unaware of where it went…Her plan was simple…draw them away from the door…allowing her to escape… She ran up the isle and down the next, grabbing a roll of rope as she ran. Forcing it into her bag. She ran back down the third isle. Someone, please help me she thought hoping someone would free her fromher Walmart prison she found herself in
 

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Renn's eyes shifted, ever wary of his surroundings. He was on a highway, with nothing but the clothes on his back, and his sword in it's sheath at his hip and his revolver in it's holster on his other hip. He was surrounded by a forest, he'd been traveling south for three days from his hometown in the Canadian praries. Atleast he was getting a bit of Vitamin D, Restoring the color to his skin, bit by bit.

He grabbed ahold of the handlebars on his Step-Father's Harley-Davidson and blazed down the highway. He filled up on gas a few miles back at an abandoned gas station. He also had a backpack filled with food of differing varieties. He also had a travel mug filled with Coffee.
 

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April 16, 2010

Steven heard a moan coming from behind him. "Shit." He muttered under his breath. "Another damn un-dead straggler." Steven had been on a 'killing' spree. Though, and he found this funny. Killing wasn't the right word for what he was doing. More like survival. After all, how do you describe killing something that is already dead? Steven didn't have time to think as he was nearing sanctuary. A wal-mart. From the background he came from, wal-marts were a blessing. Cheap, knock off brands of goods that were twice the price anywhere else. Plus there was something else there. It had come to his attention that he needed food, some clothing to change into to, and some more ammo. He looked at the direction of where the moan was coming from, a house. Not the best place to be when you turn.

Steven wanted to go in there and shoot the hell spawn in between the eyes, but he knew that if he fired a shot, his revolvers loud roar would be heard from a mile away. It seemed to be a double edged sword. Either he stayed there, and let the moan carry in the soft wind drawing other un-dead monsters towards him, or he went in there, and was able to 'kill' the zombie before it could get a hold of him. Steven shook his head. No point in standing in a death zone. He thought to himself as he turned towards the wal-mart, and started running towards it, un-aware of the small mob of un-dead that was trailing him.
 
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It was around twelve now, the message from the doctor playing once more for the day. Michael sat on a chair in front of the window. He placed it there every morning, trying to keep lookout on his hideout. The last thing he needed was a walker to catch him off guard and break into the house. "This shit get tedious." Michael whispered to himself. He had his M16 pointed out the window, just in case. Michael looked down the site of gun, eyeballing each movement he saw. His eyes caught the gaze of that marvelous Walmart. Its contents unknown, but most likely containing food. "Lots and lots of food." Michael whispered, hist stomach practically screaming at him. "Food and supplies. Hopefully enough to get me to Henderson. I can always stop along the way."

Michael brought his eyes from the Walmart, down to movement on the streets. "People?" Michael's eyes lit up. "Or walkers?" He lowered his head, ready to fire.

CRASH!

"Shit." Michael stood up, aiming his gun in the direction of the shot. "Walmart." Michael's eyes widened. "Someone got in before me. And that glass." Michael grabbed his back pack and rushed to the stairs, which he had busted down the day he got to the house. Michael hopped down, running for the door. He had his gun up, ready for anything that crossed his path.

Michael looked to his right. Someone was firing off shots. "Shit." He said, running faster than before. With nothing to do since the outbreak, Michael spent hours each day exercising. He hadn't run this fast in his life.. "I gotta get to that Walmart!" Michael dropped his gun, pulling his baseball quickly. He swung his bat sideways, hitting a walker in the side of the head with ease, another perk to the exercise.

Reaching the Walmart, Michael could hear noises. "Walkers. And probably that person that came in." Michael whispered. "What isle!?" He yelled, caring more about the safety of this person that giving up his location.
 

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Steven rushed towards the wal-mart, and stopped to see the un-dead starting to circle around the structure. The weren't that numerous, maybe ten or twenty, but they were a problem. A problem, that could easily be stopped with a quick round in the head. "Alright you sons of bitches!" Steven yelled, directing the ones that could hear towards him. He than grabbed his steel crowbar which was lightweight, and fast, which was important considering he was starting to walk towards the first zombie. It had started moaning, the low pitched sound made Steven's right eye twitch. It was so annoying, he was sure it could drive a person insane. To quiet the incessant, obnoxious sound he side stepped the creature as it lunged his hand at him, and proceeded to jab his crowbar into its right eye. The demon didn't flinch, its moan didn't even change pitch. The only thing it tried to do was grab Steven with its hands. A bad idea. It stumbled down just as the crowbar splattered the brain into scrambled eggs on the inside.

The second hell-spawn was only a few feet away, Steven reacted by easily removing the crowbar from the now 'dead' un-dead bigot and threw it at the incoming creature. The hit was surprisingly strong enough to pierce through the brain. An odd thing to Steven considering he hadn't viewed himself as a strong teenager. A collective of moans suddenly sounded behind him. "Great, more demons to destroy." He muttered under his breath. Looking at the wal-mart, and the incoming devil shits surrounding him from all sides he decided to make a break for it, making a quick prayer to whatever deity's may be out there. Then he lunged for his crowbar grabbing it before a demonic monster grabbed him. "Stupid un-dead pricks!" He yelled at the group of moaning infected.Then looking towards the wal-mart he ran towards it, barely dodging another un-dead before landing inside his sanctuary. He heard moans inside, along with a whisper. Steven wanted to reply, but looked back. The un-dead were on their way to join their brethren inside the wal-mart. He rushed into the electronics department, and grabbed his revolver from its holster, gripping it tightly he decided to answer the call. "Hello. Can anybody hear me?" He whispered loudly, hoping someone was in earshot.
 

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"shit why do these things keep comming i'd better find refuge in that town over there or i'm plain screwed up and left for dead"Flood said running to the town.As she came in she saw a wal-mart and heard yells coming from it so she decided to go in there and help them. she opened the doors to find someone screaming for a person "pardon me but i tale action unlike you"she said to micheal heading towards lillian with her sword weided back handed she charged towards them and slashed them in 2 or 4 pieces untill it was over.After that she chated with them and got to know their names "micheal and lillian right"she asked them "i'm going to the CDC building to talk with this guy who sending out the signals"she said looking in a direction of that building
 

lionheart06

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Funny thing is, Max wasn't the "luckiest" person. Time after time, bad situations would hit him in the face in a manner not dissimilar too the Louisville Slugger on his back. However, Max specialized in turning bad situations into good ones. Max, stopped when he heard the open and close sound of a door. He had prepared for his luck to run out, but it was a false alarm. He was about 50 yards away when a redheaded kid stepped out of a nearby house. He looked alive, couldn't have been any older than Max himself, if not younger. Max was about to call out to him when the sound of a gunshot was heard from not too far away. "Who in the hell did that?" He asked to himself. Actually, the shot was quite close. Well, if a gun was being fired, then obviously someone was alive. Though not for long unless someone had helped them out. Normally if someone has to use a gun, then there are usually a group of these walkers around, good. Max wanted to break in this new suppressor.

Max, looked back to the kid, he had taken off running after the sound of the gunshot and dropping his gun in the process. "That wasn't smart." Another thought that had popped into his head a he began to pick up his pace on the way to the Wal-Mart. He stopped and picked up the M16 that the kid had dropped. It was military issue, it piqued his curiosity as to how that kid got his hands on it. But that would be a question he asked later. After all, there was a group of zombies trying to force their way into that Wal-Mart door. Chances are, one wouldn't be able to take on all those with a bat, unless he happened to be Mickey Mantle or somebody. Max drew closer to the Wal-Mart, then drew his own gun and took aim.

"Pifft!"

The undead man's head exploded as the 5.56mm round bore through his head. Brain tissue and coagulated blood splattered onto the rest of the group and the body in the back fell limp. The rest of the group didn't even notice, the suppressor did it's job. Max smiled as he cleared out the rest of the walkers in front of the doorway.

"Pifft! Pifft! Pifft! Pifft!"

The bodies fell simultaneously with the shells thats ejected from the side of the SCAR, punctuated by a soft, "Ding!" Max, then made his way into the Wal-Mart. He saw the kid again, he was yelling out to whoever it was that had entered the Wal-Mart in the first place. There was a fair amount of concern in his voice. He was clearly pretty selfless, an admirable quality. Max spoke to him.

He didn't know his name, so he referred to a distinct feature, his hair in this case. "Hey Red!" Max then began to walk towards him, panning around as he did so, there wasn't anything in his sight. One he was close he spoke again, "You dropped this." He said to the redheaded young man as he took the M16 from over his shoulder and handed it back to him. "I'm Max."

"Hello. Can anybody hear me?"

Max turned, to the sound of the voice. He sounded young, and unless these undead drones suddenly relearned how to speak, he was definitely among the living. Another thought snapped through his head, he looked to that broken open door, it needed to be barricaded. Then again, there may be some else outside looking for a somewhat safe haven. He pushed a few rack of baskets in front of the door, not the best barricade, but if whoever was trying to get in was human, it could be climbed over fairly easily. If they weren't they would be shot. He looked to the redhead again, "Hey man, there are others in this store, you should try to find them. I'll watch the door."
 
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"Hey Red!"

"You dropped this. I'm Max."

Michael looked over at the figure speaking to him, a cargo vest covering a gray sweater with the words "Increase the Peace" written on it. Michael took his eyes off the man's shirt as soon as what he said processed in his mind. "I dropped..." Michael's eyes widened into a sort of panicked state. "My gun." He whispered, placing his hand where his gun should have been. "How did I drop it? Shit. Strap must have given way." Michael reached for his gun and placed the strap across his shoulder, where it comfortably rested. "Thanks man. I can't express how screwed I would have been if you hadn't picked this up for me. For all I know the streets could have gotten more swarmed than they were becoming. Nice shooting out there." Michael said with a faint smile. It was hard to smile in these times. Numerous amounts of death on your hands made it hard to smile. But Michael managed.

"Hey man, there are others in this store, you should try to find them. I'll watch the door."

Michael nodded. He strapped his gun strap tighter and let it hang, preferring to keep the volume down with his bat. 'Max.' Michael thought. 'He can't be too much older than me.' Michael's thoughts were drowned out with the moans of the walkers. He could also hear footsteps and rustling. "What isle!?" He yelled once more, in hopes that the person he was rescuing was still alive.
 

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James climbed up the ladder that led to the street above with his gun strapped around his back – A large military sized sniper rifle. He opened the manhole and looked out into the empty street. Taking the gun, he looked into the telescope-like barrel attached to the top. He did a large pan of the area, looking back at his house which looked the same as usual. He got out of the manhole and into the street where he walked into his house. It was so empty. So boring. So...dead. There were several bodies on the ground. Mutated human. He didn’t hate them. He felt sorry for them.

I think it’s about time I did something. Moved on. So he looked at the house one last time, running his fingers over the wooden floor boards and walked out the door. He didn’t look back.

~

Hours had passed; he walked several miles with not even one of those things in site. He was getting tired, his gun was getting heavy and he needed liquid. But then a heavy gunshot rung to his left. He looked over instantly and couldn’t make out any sign of struggle, or movement. It was still dead but he was sure there was someone over there – near Walmart. He got his gun from his back and looked down the telescopic barrel to see a young boy and two other people crowding. Right behind one of them, a mutated human was stumbling, getting closer to the group and with a swift pull of the trigger, the thing was flat on is back with a giant hole in its forehead.
He put his gun down and walked toward the shop. Maybe he’d get a chance to meet some new people and get a drink.
 

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Before Lillian could catch her breath, she heard the sound of people’s voices and gun shots. You have to move, get away from this isle when she looked up she noticed that two undead creaturse lay at the end of the isle… crap I’m surrouded… she looked at the gun… don’t fail me now…please… she pulled the gun up inline with the zombie closest to her and let it fire…The first missed…The second bushed the shoulder making the creature stumble back slightly…

Come on…come on…BANG the shot landed right between the eyes of the creature… making it fall down, Lillian, swallowed the vomit that rose in her throat…the scent was horrific. Lillian ran, but as she ran she heard a call from the enterance “THREE” she let out a small scream as she ran into a body of a creature… I hate my luck she thought, as she tried to find the crowbar she avoided using often. Once in her hand she swung, it landed firmly on the side of the creature. Although not killing it the monster stumbled giving her enough time to regain her balance. Another gun shot was heard from the distance… not only do I have to watch out for the monsters but guns are going off like anything. “HURRY…” she had to stay in isle three now…some apparent human was coming for her… she had to fend herself as long as possible.

Holding the crow bar with two hands she waited for the creature to come towards her again. “Come on” she whispered… “Whoever you are” The monster stumbled towards her again, as she swung the bar around in a circle. Her feet danced in battle, knowing little more then the steps she was taught at ballet. Her hair flicked around as she did her best to muster her strenght…how long can I keep holding this thing off she thought…where was the guy who called out to her
 
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“THREE”

"Three." Michael whispered, looking up at the isle signs. Thirteen is what his read. Michael tossed his bat near Max, and reached down for his gun. He swung it up and ran sideways with his gun pointed down the isles. "Ten." He counted. "Nine." He was growing closer. "Eight." The smell of the dead flesh was growing stronger. "Three!" He yelled, attempting to stop. His converse sliding on the tile floor. He pulled the trigger on his gun and let out a single shot. The bullet whizzed past the bread and chips, landing in the right side of the walker's head. Just as fast as the gun was shot was as fast as the walker hit the floor. The dark red blood gushed out of the now dead walker's head.

"Are you ok?!" Michael yelled down the isle. He had already shot off a gun, whispering wasn't going to do any good now. Michael stood up completely now, the skidding of his stop forcing him into a kneeling splits of some sort. Michael let the gun go limp at his side and began walking down the isle. "Are you bit?" He asked, making sure he wasn't getting himself into anything too risky. He stopped halfway down the isle. "If not, the name's Michael."
 

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“Are you okay?” a boy with red hair yelled…Lillian looked around…the zombie had been shot in the back of the head…she was safe for the few seconds he was here, as Lillian could not muster words at this point she simply nodded… He began to walk down the isle towards her…Lillian dropped the croaw bar, looking at her hands she noticed that she held it so tight, her hands had begun to bleed… “Are you bit?” she shook her head, her breath heavy and forced again. “If not, the name’s Micheal.”

She nodded and forced a smile, “I haven’t been bitten…” she opened her bag to find some bandaged and wrapped them around her hands, it stung slightly but nothing to cause her to faint. She picked up the bar and wiped it with a cloth… “My name is Lillian…thank you”…looking at her gun that lay on the floor, it was a shame to leave it behind…after all it had been a trusted companion thus far. She picked it up and placed it in her bag…

She wipped the sweat from her brow and cautiously walked towards him… “I guess walmart now stock hordes of the undead too” she said in attempts to make light of the conversation. A murmur was heard, and Lillian swivlled her head around… “I hope you have ammo” she said despretly looking at Micheal...
 
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Michael looked at the crowbar that now lay on the tile. It was bloody, as was her hand. 'Fright must have gotten to her. She gripped it so tight her hand's bleeding.' Michael thought as he walked all the way up to the girl, deeming her safe.

“My name is Lillian…thank you”

Michael nodded. "No problem helping a lady." He said, feeling chivalrous. That's the one thing he liked about the end of the world. He could create a new image for himself. He could be an entirely new person. No more loser Michael at school. No more Michael, that kid that plays video games and is horrible with girls. No more of that. 'From this day forward, I'm Michael, the badass.' He thought to himself with a smirk. As Lillian packed her stuff up a murmur was heard.

“I hope you have ammo” Lillian said, a look of desperation showing in her eyes.

"Don't worry." Michael said with confidence. "We won't have to deal with whatever's making that noise just yet. Follow me." He whispered, making his way down the isle and back to Max.
 

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The sound of gunshots rang through the store. The first three were from a pistol, but that last one was definitely an assault rifle. There was still a rustling noise though. That low guttural moan that followed was definitely that of a walker. However, there were no gunshots, no screams. There were at least four people in the store right now including himself and Red, it would be fair to say that they could take care of the straggler.

Max had heard footsteps behind him, but the pattern wasn't that of a normal human. These footsteps were slow, erratic, like it was limping. The young corporal turned around and laid eyes on the drifter. He considered shooting it, but he figured it better not to waste rounds. Letting his rifle fall to his side he reached to his back and removed his baseball bat from it's straps. Shooting a loathsome look to this drifter, a song began to play in Max's head.

"Take me out to the ball game. Take me out to the crowd."

It was so slow, so lifeless, it's body had begun to decompose. From the looks of it, this sucker had only changed about a week ago, it still had some of it's color. It was definitely dead though, Max doesn't know many people that can survive with a missing stomach and exposed ribs. He could see it's heart still beating. The very sight of these things was enough to make one's stomach turn, but Max was different, he was a soldier.

"Buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks. I don't care if I ever get back."

Max was looking it dead in it's eyes, he gripped his bat and took his stance. Max was actually quite the promising athlete. It didn't matter what sport he played, baseball, football, track, gymnastics, he crushed his competition in all of them. However, he never really wanted to go pro. He had actually come from quite an affluent background, and after his parents passed, their entire fortune was left to him. His mother was actually the head of the R&D department for a pharmaceutical company, his father had owned a ton of chain restaurants. Max felt that if he had become a professional athlete, he would be taking an opportunity away from someone else to achieve financial independence. Especially considering the gigantic trust fund left to him, he didn't really need to do anything, he was set for life. But Max isn't one to sit on his ass, so he had decided to be all he could be.

"So just root, root, root for the home team. If they don't win it's a shame. For it's..."

The creature was now in striking distance. Max initiated the first shift into his swing, moving his body weight back so he could swing it forward. Once at his apex, Max collected that same momentum and snapped into a twisting rotation. If there was a ball, it would definitely have sailed out of the park.

"One!"

The slugger had made contact with the monster's head. The thud produced was sickening. This...thing had fallen to the ground, it was still moving though. Max swung down.

"Two!"

It's skull began to crack, but this wasn't over yet. Max raised the bat for a final swing. The creature looked into his eyes, almost as though it was pleading for mercy. That couldn't be possible though, only the living could plead, only those with a sense of humanity. These things, weren't human, not anymore. No living human could be capable of what he had been forced to witness, which is saying something because Max has crossed paths with some sick bastards. Max gave the zombie a final blow, putting it out of it's misery. The exposed heart had stopped beating. This thing was dead.

"Three strikes you're out! At the ol' ball game!"

Max looked to his right. Red was making his way back with a new friend, a girl. He looked down at the now motionless corpse, the dark maroon blood dripped form his bat, gross. Max walked over to the sani-wipe dispenser that was near the rest of the shopping carts, he then grabbed a few and cleaned his bat off. He looked down at his chest, it seems that his dog tags had popped out during his little bout with the walker. He lifted them and brought them closer to his eyes, it wasn't the tags however that he focused on, Max was looking at the engagement ring hanging to the side of the tags. He zoned out for a minute as he reminisced, but he came back to. Giving the ring a kiss, he then tucked the chain back under his collar and looked to Red, "Cool, you found her. But there's still somebody else in here." He then looked at the new girl, "How ya' doin'? I'm Max."
 

Lord betrayus

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Steven heard the gunshots from different parts of the wal-marts. He couldn't pinpoint them, mostly because of the wal-mart itself. If they heard him, they certainly would be able to find him, as well as he would find the source of the gunshots Steven heard four moans coming by the video game section. He grabbed his revolver from its holster, and decided just speaking would be enough to get the people in the wal-mart to find him. Opening his mouth he half shouted, "If anyone can hear me, I'm in the electronics department. Got a few demon spawn in the area, cup your ears." The un-dead were closing in. They weaved through the two aisles of discount games. Steven couldn't help but feel sorry for them. Not the un-dead demonic sons of bitches they were now, but their previous selves. He noticed that one of them used to be a woman, she was obese. Which puzzled him as to why the un-dead wouldn't have feasted on her for a couple of hours. He didn't have time to continue trying to explore an obese ladies past. The first hell spawn was closing in. Arms outstretched, and the moan. That hideous moan that made Steven's eye twitch. Four moans however were annoying him to the point of a headache.

As the first of the four un-dead limped within firing range. Steven lifted his revolver in the air and held it like it was meant to be held. Arms out, one hand under it for support. He aimed at the head and fired. The ear splitting ring went through the wal-mart, and likely outside. He cursed to as the recoil caused him to jerk his head back, making him fall flat on his ass. "Fuck." He cursed as he saw the former obese woman near him. "I'm going to have to waste my entire clip on her alone." He sighed trying to fine humor to calm his nerves. He aimed the gun up again after failing to smirk, and shot at the head. It missed by a few inches. That fact made Steven swear again. Instead of hitting the fat ass with an obsession for human flesh, he shot the glass holding all the new x-box360 games. The bullet than rebounded and, rather luckily. Hit the other hell spawn in the second aisle of discount games. Steven didn't have time to be puzzled about what just happened the final demon spawn was literally within range to where he had seconds to lift his gun, and fire point blank range. He did just that. The bullet went some what straight through the body but not before destroying the spinal cord. The woman dropped and started crawling. "Aw hell no!" Steven yelled as he got up and shoved his revolver back in its holder. "Crazy bitch is crawling after me." He muttered to himself. He than reached down to grab his crowbar hanging on one of his belt loops. He clutched it and un-hooked it. Then approached the woman and lobbed off the head. He looked at it, and jumped, literally jumped in the air at the sight he had just saw. The head was still functioning. Luckily it couldn't control its head. Steven proceeded to walk up to the head, and flipped his crowbar to the side were it was straight. The heads eyes were watching him. Its mouth still moving. Its whole face was then eloquently smashed into a bloody mess after a quick jab into the frontal lobe. "O.k." Steven said walking backwards. "I took care of the demonic beings in my area. If you need want to come find me. You know where I am." He then walked towards the walkway separating the electronic section from the kids clothing department.
 
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