The Outbreak ☣ (open)

Tris screamed for help again, terror filling her eyes. She shot off another few rounds, then used her knives to climb higher than the xombies. Reloading, she fired off another round, killing all the zombies that were left. Sighing, she leaped down, and walked towards the door. She kicked it down, and headed outside, shaky and a bit nervous. Spotting some kids ahead, she ran as fast as she could to catch up. "Hey," she called, getting her gun out in case they were zombies.

Tris forced herself to fall, seeing the gun. She slowly got up, hands up, and shaking. "Pl=Please don't shoot officer. Take me to jail. Whatever. Just don't shoot please," she called, voice shaking from terror. The seven-year-old shuddered in terror, thinking about how many years she'd have to serve in jail. Rubbing her head, she stepped into the light, hands still raised in surrender.

Tris looked at him, a little shaky now. "S-Sorry. Can I go with you?" she asked. The seven year old replaced her leather satchel on her back, retrieving her guns, and loading them again in seconds. The kid was breathing hard, and she looked pale. Tris felt unusually scared. "P-Please..." she added softly. "I don't want to be out alone...., with them."

Tris placed her guns in their holsters on her belt. She shook her head slightly, then followed them. "I am sorry if I caused you trouble. The cops usually try to get me, 'cause I raid stores after hours. I hate orphanages, so I live on the streets."

Heather barely noticed the girl. Though the sound of Zachs gun going off startled her. She was mostly staring at a young child, it looked like a boy, a block down the street. He was sitting on the sidewalk bawling his eyes out and clutching a teddy. As the others began to walk she ran ahead, her hood flew off and her hair flowing out behind her. As she neared the boy she knew exactly who it was. "Tommy?!" She exclaimed crouching down next to him.

Tommy was a small energetic boy he had big fawny coloured eyes and a thick mess of brown hair. He lived nextdoor to Heather, she usually babysat for his parents. He was a sweet kid.

He looked up his little round face pale and blotchey and wiped his nose with the sleve of his fluffy polo."Scared!" He whimpered, clutching the plush teddybear closer, for comfort. A spray of dark blood decorated the left leg of his trousers.

Tris walked over with Heather, holding her gun out to keep herself, and the girl safe. "Kid, have you been bit or scratched?" she asked softly, seeing the blood. She held out a chocolate bar for him to take, smiling sweetly.

Tommy forgot all about his teddy and being scared, he reached out for the chocolate bar. Putting pressure on his leg caused him to cry out in pain and plonk straight back down, crying. "Mommy! Mommy hur....t me! Mommy!"

Heather frowned crouched down, picking up the kid and sliding him onto her lap. She pulled up the trouser-leg with the blood splatters. Revealing a deep, fleshy gash. Tommy saw it and started to scream and cry harder than before. "Mom-my!" He sobbed pitifully. Heather tugged the material back over the wound and stood up hugging him to her. "There, there, tommy...it'll be ok" her voice almost cracked and her eyes were glistening, sadly. She knew she was lying. He clutched at her, still screaming.

Tris frowned, then had an idea. She lifted Tommy, and gently unwrapped the chocolate bar. "Eat this," shesaid softly, pulling a medic kit from her bag. She looked at the boys leg, estimating the amount of contamination. Quietly, she injected him with anesthetic, then cut the wounded flesh away. She quietly flushed the wound, and poured alchohol in it, careful to keep the anesthetic going so he wouldn't feel it. Finally, she bandaged it. Looking up at Heather, she frowned. "I don't know if this can stop the infection, but we can take him if you want..." she added softly. She put back the medi-kit, and supplies away, gently lifting Tommy and handing him to Heather. It would be her choice.

Tommy, again, instantly forgot everything and was happilly nomnoming on the chocolate bar for the whole procedure. When it was finished, so was the chocolate, he reached out as Heather took him, trying in vain to get the remaining chocolatey mess off of his face.

Heather smiled at the small girl "Thank you so much" she said, holding the squirming toddler. "Where did you learn to do that?" She asked, still a little surprised

"I've been shot seven times," Tris said. "You pick these things up when that happens." She laughed softly, wiping Tommy's face clean, and handing him another bar. "No more after this though," she said with a smile. Suddenly, her eyes rolled back, and she dropped to the ground, shaking slightly. Wincing, she reached for her bag, but she was shaking so hard it wasn't working. "H-Help. I need.... g-gr-green syringe," she coughed out.

Heather set Tommy down and crouched next to the med-bag, searching for a green syringe thing. That all happened o fast she hardly had a second to think, she just did it. Pulling out a green syringe and tring to stay calm she asked "So do I, like, stab you with it!?"

Tris nodded as best she could. "P-push th-the t-t-top.... Same t-t-time," she added, as best as she could. She saw a zombie walking up, and bit her lip, wishing Heather would hurry now. She glanced at her Berretta Storm guns, and Browning .22 rifle, waiting for the right moment to try and get them.

Heather did as she was told.

Tommy noticed the zombie too. But he decided to wander off and be friendly to it. "H..hiya!" He squelaed beaming at it, happily.

Tris rolled to her feet, grabbing her gun, and firing. The bullet hit the zombie in the head. Tris rushed forward, grabbing Tom and pulling him away. "No," she said. "Never talk to strangers. Or the dead, for that matter.... Come on," she said, leading him back to Heather. She sighed, putting her bag back on her back, and replacing her Berretta Storms in their holsters. Holding her rifle to her side, she waited for the group to get ready to go again.