Zombie Land

Nadine
Her eyes were piercing whomever was behind her. she wans't the kind of girl with whom smeone could play and was never more the sweet girl that had a happy life.

She had her revolver in her hands, fixed in the direction of the boy that was in front of her. It was not like she wanted to shoot him but if she had to, she knew she was tough enough to doit. No matter who or what it was.

"Who are you?" she asked, not able to make her voice stop shaking. She didn't want to accept it, but she knew she was afraid.
"Who are you?" she asked again, a little louder and harsher this time. This time she managed to keep her voice from shaking and sounding weak.

Desmond~~

She raised the pistol to me and I smiled. It was a twelve story shot, which even for me would have been a challenge to make.

"My name is Desmond, I'm 19. I was born in California, and I lived there all my life. I was in the military and came to New York to have some relaxation before I was sent over seas. I like rocky road ice cream the best, and I like to sing rock songs in the shower, even still." It was not important information, but it might make her trust me just a bit more.

"What the-?" She sat up straight, surveying the area. She had most definitely heard a gun shot. Two, actually. There was a large park in the distance in front of her, and more buildings. Did this town have any type of wildlife without buildings around it? She couldn't see the park too well, so she rummaged around her bag for some binoculars.

Standing, she sat her double-barrel shotgun down, and raised the binoculars to her eyes. After a minute or two, she spotted two people next to some kind of alley way or something. The girl had what looked like an old revolver, pointed right at the man's head. And the guy was talking to her.

"Well hell's bells! There's some real live folks down there. And they ain't rottin'!" She practically bellowed with laughter. "Well, might as well try an' get they're attention before they shoot each other."

She headed over to the edge of the roof, and let out the loudest, hound-dog calling whistle she could make.

Frankie Stone

Frankie patted his jacket and crouched low on the roof that he was sitting on. It was one of the few he'd found that had ladders running up the side, and he used it occasionally to see around him better.

He could see the house that he'd been staying in over to the right, it was another abandoned one that was pretty easy to defend. It had strong walls and a basement, two of Frankie's priorities.

Then, from his left a loud whistle sounded. Frankie didn't know what it was, but it could either be zombies or humans, and Frankie wasn't going to pass up a chance with either of them.

He sprinted to the ladder and was soon running full pelt along the nearest alleyway. A girl was standing there, her gun raised at something high up on another building. A man, on the roof. And on another roof, a little further away, was another girl who'd obviously whistled.

"Well, hell," Frankie murmured softly, "This is not usual."

He saw the girl's gun trembling and ran over to her, taking her gun hand and forcing it down before she could shoot him.

"It's ok, I'm human!" He said loud enough for everybody to hear. "I think we're all human here, actually."

Nadine
She looked at the guy who was stanfing in front of her with wide eyes. It was almost incredible for her that she actually found two humans. Before she even knew it, she was throwing herself to the guy infront of her and hugging him tightly.

"Oh my God!" She said while she hugged him. It was obvious that she was making the guy uncomfortable. But she didn't care in such situations.
The guy at the rooftop was still looking down, so she let go of the guy and looked at Desmond.
"So you're human?" She asked and he nodded.
"Do you think you can come down here?" Nadine added.

She hadn't noticed the guy on the roof, maybe a building or two over from her. The couple of people on the ground had been surprised by another man. That makes about...five living people! She never expected to find one, let alone five. But of course, with that many people, came the zombies. She could see one now, coming out of the park. She sat down her shot gun, and picked up her scoped rifle. These were the only two large guns she kept with her.

Pulling the gun up to her shoulder, she practically yelled down to the people below her "You might want to pay attention, and maybe get your butts up here!" She fired right at the zombie's head, but was a little off, and the bullet only grazed his scalp.

"Damn it!" She aimed again, fired, and the zombie finally fell.

Patrick

My eyes opened to darkness, just before my nose woke up, too. I had slept inside a dumpster for most of the day, and it smelled like the freaking Bog of Eternal Stench. No doubt some previously living organism was decaying. Hopefully it wasn't me.

I lifted the lid and sat up, stretching. Fresh air was taken for granted so many times. Running a hand through my hair I discovered I had laid in some grease. Behind me was an old pizza box, upon which, with further inspection, still had pizza crusts and pepperoni slices inside.

Somehow, against my better judgment, I found myself ripping through every inch of those bitten off crusts, searching for signs of any kind of blood or zombie spit or whatever. Come on, I told myself, popping a mushroom into my mouth. You can do so much better than this! But no, food was food, and I was never one to steal. Or beg. Or roast sewer rats.

A gunshot fired maybe a mile off, and I tensed, straining my ears. Another one, and another. For a second I thought about just going back to sleep, but

A) it was almost night and the zombies were waking up, and
B) I hadn’t known zombies to use guns, yet.

Cautiously, I set the pizza box aside and climbed out as quietly as possible. When I was safely out, a satisfied smile found it’s way to my lips. Then the lid came crashing down, loudly. I muttered something through my teeth, made sure my fanny pack was strapped to my belt underneath my Spiderman sweatshirt, and left the alley. Time to find the gun, or guns, since the firing grew more rapid.

Desmond~~

"Look, I don't care how many of you there are, but all of you have been very loud. Get over here and go through the bottom door, but stay in the mud room. Do NOT come into the lobby."

I ran downstairs to meet them, hoping they had waited and not set off one of the many, many traps I had laid there.

Nadine
She narrowed her eyes at the Desmod guy but still followed his instructions. It was the first time in many days that she actually interacted with some humans. She felt relieved that she was not the only human and as she walked she realized it was not just ther, Desmond and the guy with her.
"So, what's your name?" she asked the guy.

"Frankie" he answered with a smile.

"Nadine" She said, extending her arm so they could shake hands.

And that was the only interaction they had before getting to where Desmond had said.

Des~~

I deactivated the traps as quickly as I could while still being safe, trying not to let them know where they are. They may be human, but they didn't have to be friendly humans.

"Head across, and for gods sake, only step on the dark tiles, except the ones bordering the dresser."

The floor was cluttered with random objects from the upstairs rooms, desks, beds, chairs and tables, all piled into a mess that was a maze to get through unless you knew what you were doing. I had hidden traps throughout the whole first floor in the first week. Just in case.

I stood in the doorway with my rifle in my hands, waiting to see if any other people came by before I locked up again.

Patrick

I jogged down the sidewalk with every last wit I had about me. You could hear them waking up to the beautiful purple sky. A breeze whipped around a few old flyers and whistled in my ears. Nice day, I thought. My head was turning around and back, keeping an eye out. Hopefully, I wouldn’t see one, or more for that matter.

Wishing never works.

There was one who was distinctively non-human, collapsed on the ground and twitching. For what it was, it looked awful, but what mattered more was that there was a gaping bullet hole in its skull. I knew it! I grinned and looked around for the shooter. Nothing, nadda, not-rotting-guy with a gun… Ah. ‘Kay.

The guy looked around from his doorframe post. I started to walk toward him, but he must have decided that nothing was coming and started to head inside. My eyes bugged out and I called, weakly and hopefully not very loudly, but he heard it.

“Wait!,” I said, running now. “I’m human!”

She grabbed her bag and quickly headed down the fire escape. She would much rather be stuck in some kind of basement than be alone with the zombies. She headed into the place with the small group of people, waiting by the door with the guy who had rigged the place. Wait? What was that? She moved closer to the door as the guy was closing it...

"Wait!" She shouted, "There's someone out there!" She pushed the door open and yelled at the guy, "Come on! Over here." The others might be angry with her, but she wasn't going to leave anyone alive, as long as they weren't a zombie.

Nadine
"God, would you stop it?" She shouted to the guy. " I mean, dude, what do you have here. bombs?"

Desmond looked her and narrowed hie eyes. By that she understood and got the answer to her question.

"Ok" she said, watching every step she made and looking down at the flor because she would have blown in a million pieces if she didn't do so.

But before he closed the door, a girl, went running towards him.

My heart jumped into my throat. Please, don't step on...

Her foot landed on the carpet and I sighed, the fear subsiding, "Don't ever, ever do that again." Then I pushed the door open so the new person, a boy by the likes of it, came in, panting from a long run made in a short amount of time.

I ushered everyone to the seventh floor and then into my room. It was large, in relation to all of the other rooms, which was part of the reason I chose it. Books were scattered everywhere, mostly informative, but fiction was not uncommon in the great stacks. The kitchen had the same feel, food for ten years stacked up to the ceiling.

"Welcome to my home. Take a seat and we'll go over the basics."

"Bathrooms over there. Its a composting toilet. Don't go pee in it. Other than that what's here is everyone's, don't be greedy. My room is through there-"I pointed to the right "thats my personal space. I'll roll out beds for all of us soon, and then find you rooms later if it becomes an issue. Any questions?"

She helped the guy through the door, then eyeballed the man who "owned" the place. He sure was pretty tight about security. He had everything in order, from booby traps to fancy living. Yeah, fancy. Well, at least there were actual people here.

"So, you stay here all the time?" She asked Mr. Bomb and Booby Trap.

"Obviously. I like to have things in order." He replied sarcastically.

"Don't you think it's a good idea to not stay in one place for a long time?" That was her method, and it worked pretty good. At least for her. As for now, she sat her bag and guns down next to one of the chairs, and sat down, taking a long breath.