surviving

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    // just jump in, plot is during a zombie Apocalypse //



    as the knife made contact with the creatures skull blood oozed out and dripped down staining the ground below. the creature crumbled down to the ground with no more movement. "take that" the red headed girl spoke as she pulled the knife back out. she turned and walked to the door of the building that lay in front of her, as she put her hand out and turned the knob she grew aggravated, "locked" she muttered, she wanted to scream and bust down the door but the creatures would be on her in a second. the newer they are at being turned the quicker they are on their feet. "shit, where to now??" she said, a little too loud. she turned to run to another building but this time, there was no where to run. she was trapped with a few of the dead creatures closing in "shit.. shittt" she looked around furiously but there was no where to escape too.


    "Hey, watch your d*mn language," came a shout, just before a shot rang out. Bam, bang, blam-o! Off went their heads! Red went the roses, blood and brain matter splattering about in a crescendo of gore and death. A raven-haired young man shot another round into the handful of zombies, thanking his lucky stars for the hundredth time since this damn planet went to shit for his father's constant encouragement to keep practicing at the shooting rink. May dear old dad rest in peace with the five bullets he had shot into his head.

    Was it a symptom of PTSD finding humor in such horrible situations? Or was Jeremy just crazy? Possibly the latter, unfortunately, but all the psychologists were eaten or too busy trying to eat him to put a label on these intrusive thoughts. Anyways, I digress -

    Once the zombies were all dead...er? Jeremy turned his eyes to the red-head he had saved. Jeremy had been in the building she had tried to break into, having been collecting whatever supplies he could find within when he heard her shouts. Like an idiot, his good-soul decided she could use a bit of help, and thus burst from the door Jeremy went, bang-pop-pow went his bullets and away his chance for sneaking out of this town without drawing any more attention to himself.

    All for a red-head with a fowl mouth.

    "Those shots will attract more runners, y'know" damn, he'd always wanted to say that, "if you think you can ahndle a horde with that puny razor you've got there, I would suggest you follow me," he stated, before turning around on his heel - was that a weird thing to say? 'Follow me even though im a literal total stranger'? Was that creepy? Jeremy had been on his own for so long now, he had no idea.

    Mentally slapping himself, he focused back on the bigger picture. Y'know, the possibility of dying. And being crazy - but again, I digress.

    Whether she followed or not, Jeremy sprinted to find shelter. There should be a neighborhood nearby, perhaps they could find protection in a house? Or climb atop a roof to catch their breath?



    (c)trexgirl

    brooke turned as the guy saved her, before she could say anything he turned and took off, leaving her nothing to do but to follow. "im brooke" she said as she caught up. "and my "razor" she spat the words at him "has saved me up until now. a gun just draws more attention" she heaved the words out as she struggled to catch up to the stranger, her short legs falling back a step or two every couple paces. "we gotta get out of here, theyll follow us. theyll kill us" she stammered remembering how the zombies had torn her own mothers throat out and ate her alive in front of her, there was nothing she couldve done but the image haunted her everywhere she went.

    (sweet)


    Claire sat in a corner behind a dumpster crying. The small seven year old girl had no one and didn't know how to fight against these beasts that roamed the once happy land. Just as she looked up, one of the death grasping creatures tried making its way towards her. She screamed a small scream before pushing herself further away from the rabid creature that attempted to attack her.

    brooke stopped when she heard the scream looking at the guy she was following then back to where the scream came, she paused then reached for the gun the guy was carrying, grabbing it and turning she shot the zombie stammering towards the little girl. with a loud BANG the zombie fell to the ground, its limbs lolling to the sides. brooke high tailed it to where the kid was scooted back behind the dumpster. she reached out pulling the kid to her feet "get on my back" she barked the orders, the gun up pointing to protect them "we have to get going before more come, hurry up!"

    Claire climbed up on her back and held on tight. She closed her pale green eyes and hid her face in the strangers shoulder. She was terrified for the first time in her life. "I...I am sorry, Ma'am...y..you didn't have to save me...you could have let me die"She sighed as tears rolled down her pale cheeks.

    brooke didnt answer as she ran after the man that had saved her meer moments earlier. "where to now??" she looked around frantically. "there!" she exclaimed as she saw a barred off neighborhood with dead zombies laying in every yard. it looked like a mass killing had come through here and there wouldnt be as many in there. yanking on the guys arm she pointed to the house and took off, still carrying the girl.

    once they got inside she let the girl down and started pushing furniture up against the door. the windows had already been blocked off with molding warping wood, obviously the wood had been there since the beginning and the boards had been threw rain and other events such as being clawed by zombies desperately trying to peel them off to get at the feast that once lay inside


    Jeremy was about to retort that her 'razor' did squat with a horde where his gun did all the work, and that "no dur" they needed to run or they'd die, but he was interrupted from both come-backs when she grabbed his gun. "OI!" he cried, skidding to a halt, his heart slamming into his throat - was this a betrayal? Was she going to shoot him in the back? Steal his gun and leave him to the zombies?

    No, she was just going to be a hero.

    He watched, nervous but with grudging admiration as the girl - Brooke - saved the little girl before bolting back to him. He kept his mouth shut as he let her lead the way to the house and assisted with pushing the furniture again the wall. It wasn't until he was sure every door, window and whatever else was open to undead claws was barred before whirling on the chick.


    "Gun," he said, extending his hand towards her, wiggling his fingers impatiently for the cold handle upon his palm, "Give it."




    (c)trexgirl

    Claire look up at the two strangers as tears had stained her eyes leaving them puffy and red. "P ..please don't hurt each other...I..I can't stand to see people do that again " She cried out and hid her face in her arms bringing her knees closer to herself.


    Jeremy flinched, glancing at the little girl as she began to sob. "Ah - no - erm -hey, it's fine," he said awkwardly, flickering his gaze from the girl, to Brooke and back again. He was never really very good with kids. Or girls. Or people in general, really. Hence the awkwardness and his doubts, which only worsened thanks to the time he spent on his own during this whole fiasco. Thus, he had no damn clue how to make the girl stop crying. Maybe a pat on the head? But that would require looking away from Brooke, and who knows what she'd do with his gun?

    "I'm not going to hurt her," he said, keeping his eyes on Brooke, with the occasional glance at his gun in her hands, "but I want it back."

    It was his father's. Like hell he wasn't going to fight for it.

    He glanced at the little girl.

    Okay - maybe not fight for it if he could help it. But still.

    With a sigh, he added, "please give me my gun?" Ladies liked politeness, right?




    (c)trexgirl

    Claire kept sobbing softly into her dirty arms. She was wearing a pale blue dress thst was once pretty but now it was a wreck with dirt/mud and blood stains covering it. What no one knew was that it was her birthday when this all started and it was her birthday when he parents killed themselves in front of her.

    brookes eyes gleemed "oh? this ol thing?" she looked at him teasingly "maybe ill keep it" she joked, before she emptied the gun and handed it back to him. "just no more shooting it and its yours" she said before turning to look around

    "maybe theyll have food" she pointed out before walking off. "she stopped to look at the kid, look i dont know what you saw out there but well keep you safe" she paused to glare at the guy hoping hed agree to stick around and hopeful that hed be nice "im brooke" she looked at the kid "ill find some food for us"


    Jeremy bristled at her tease. Really? He risked his life - lost some good rounds of bullets - all so she could steal his only line of defense? Jeremy was about ready to forget his promise to the little girl as he clenched his fists, preparing for a fight. His mood wasn't appeased when she took out the magazine and emptied it's contents. Jokes on her, more than half the bullets were already gone anyway, thanks to what he wasted on her and what she used for the kid.

    He snatched the gun from her hand, seething as he stepped back. "Wow, thanks, guess when the zombies break in ill just club 'em," he spat.

    He watched her walk away, wary, before looking towards the shelter. He'd be more than happy to leave her and the kid here - he could already tell Brooke was more of a burden than anything, and the kid, well they didn't look ready to beat up a zombie but at least SHE didn't take his gun and bullets! But he couldn't leave, not while his gun was empty and the night was approaching.

    Maybe he could club Brooke and steal back his bullets in the morning.

    That sounded great.


    Stalking to the far corner, the young man fiddled with his gun, fingering the safety and removing and attaching the magazine as he glared at the two girls. "I mean, I WOULD keep you safe, but SOMEBODY stole my bullets!" he called, irritated when Brooke said 'we'. Sure he'd help the kid out, but that was HIS decision to make, not hers.

    Jesus, he suddenly realized he hadn't much minded solitude!


    "Ive got food. Raided a convenience store before I had the honor of meeting you, Brooke," Jeremy said sarcastically, before sliding his backpack from his shoulder. His father, being a former cop and all with a penchant for survival shows, didn't just teach Jeremy how to shoot a gun. He had everything a man like him could need - rope, a small sleeping bag, a compass, water bottles, a few tablets of water purifier, a flint and steel, matches, a switchblade and, of course, a handful of granola bars.

    And this wasn't even close to what he had back home.


    Pulling out one of the granola bars and a water bottle (he only had two, and one was already half empty) the boy handed the two to the seven-year old, all the while making sure his backpack and the rest of his supplies were out of Brooke's reach. "You get to starve until you return my bullets," he paused, then added, "and never touch my gun again."



    (c)trexgirl

    "look, youve drawn enough attention to us" she sneered half heartily "ill give you the bullets back in morning. when i know theyre long gone.. now, what is your name?" she looked at him he seemed to dislike her, which made her quiver with pleasure. people always hated her cold tongued words and she loved it. but then she realized that maybe him sticking around would be a good thing. she could use the company "fine" she muttered "here, but dont go shooting it off unless necessary, you can hit them to kill them" she paused then added "if your quick enough to not get bit" she eyed him up and down "try to be quick enough wont you" she joked before handing him the bullets "it might be good to stick together. lets try this over" she looked around before continuing "im brooke, thank you for helping me out" shed never flat out say 'thank you' but this was as close as the ill mannered guy would get "i came back looking for my mom. but shes not around no more. i suppose you wont mind taking us to where you camped out at? cant be any less dangerous then this shit hole"

    brooke wondered to the couch and plopped down "maybe ill find some nice clothes here though" she said not waiting for a response. her clothes were torn, her pasty white skin was visible through tears in her pants that made them look more like shorts then anything by now, her shirt was torn and her belly was visible. "torn clothes arnt safe when your trying to avoid being torn apart" she added


    "While saving your life," he countered hotly, not enjoying one bit her smug expression. She reminded him of those stereotypical cheerleader popular chicks he'd seen in T.V. Never thought he'd meet one in person. Again, he snatched the bullets from her before stepping out of her reach, wary that she'd try and steal his stuff again. He glared at her thought his glittering pale green eyes, then harrumphed and tossed her one of the granola bars - a promise was a promise. "Ill show you hit to kill..." he grumbled, once more heading to his corner of the room, comfortably far from the red-head with his back-pack once more secure on his spine, "...ungrateful little she-witch..."


    He continue to glare at her as she suggested sticking together and to start over. Just like that, she expected him to forgive her? "I think i'd rather try my luck running track with the zombies," he said, pointedly turning his chin away. Leaning against the wall, he unclipped the magazine again, returned the bullets, then slapped it all back in place. Running a hand through the semi-automatic, the boy visibly relaxed. Running a hand through his dirty-blonde hair, the young man, finally sucked in a breath and let it out.

    Looking warily back at the girl, he rolled his shoulders before saying, "You can call me Hansen." He didn't think he'd feel comfortable having that slimy mouth of hers refer to him by his first name. Until he found a way to get rid of her, she'd refer to him by his last name.

    He un-clipped the magazine, then snapped it back into place.

    "Yeah, yeah, while your at it try and look for something else that's useful," Jeremy called to her, un-clipping again as he peeked through the window. He cringed at the un-dead shuffling about before pulling away. He snapped the magazine back in place.


    After a moment, he turned to the little girl and asked, "what's your name...kiddo?" aw jeeze he sounded so awkward! He cursed himself for never volunteering to babysit. He had no idea how to handle seven-year-olds!



    (c)trexgirl

    she could feel the hostility from here and had enough. she decided to wonder throughout the house, shuffling between rooms. when she got to the master bedroom she found a few more bullets and put them in her pocket before going over to the closet. she pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a low cut t shirt. "itll have to do" she sighed as she slipped the fresh clothes on. she carried on looking for anything she could thatd be useful, finding a box of matches in one drawer, a lighter in another. she sifter through the closet once more before she found a carton of cigs. "just my luck!" she sighed happily before snagging one out and lighting it up. breathing in the cancerous fumes that came off it in puffs.

    she continued on to the next room, finding a pocket knife in one drawer and a nudy magazine in another "hey maybe thisll cheer him up" she sneered and laughed as she threw it back to the ground and continued on. she stopped by the bathroom, picking up a bar of soap and taking it with her, maybe if it rained she could wash the dirt from her skin she thought. as she made her way to the next room the stench of death filled her nostrils making her gag she peered in, curiosity over taking her. inside lay an awful sight, an older gentlmen, and two kids sat in the room. a gun in his hand, bullet holes in each of their heads "he killed his kids then himself..." she muttered horrified. as much as she wouldve liked to leave the room she needed the gun in his hand. holding her breath she walked in and pried the gun from his body that had already harden from being dead for so long. as soon as it slipped out she searched his pockets, finding 4 more bullets and a key. she turned and closed the door behind her, she felt sick and vomited all over the floor, the scene had been too much for her to take. once she regained her strength from the sight she carried on, finding a stuffed animal in the next room she grabbed it for the kid and grabbed a new pair of clothes that seemed a bit big but would work for the child.

    she made her way to the kitchen and found a few water bottles, a few candy bars and a couple cans of soup. not much but itll do.

    she found her way to the living room and handed him a few bullets "i found these, and -" she paused and thought for a second about hiding the other gun but decided if she wanted his trust shed tell him "and another gun. one ill keep for protection"

    she turned to the kid and handed her the stuffed animal and clothes as well as a blanket and pillow she found "here, get comfy" she said before handing setting the other items down on the table "cigarette?" she asked to hensan holding one out to him, drawing in the sweet smoke of her own.

    Claire watched the interaction of the two and decided to move to a cleaner looking chair. She curled up and listened to the two bicker back and forth. Once she heard the girl, Brooke, walk away, she opened up her small eyes and glanced over at the guy, Hansen. "I...I am Cl...Claire"she stuttered and glanced at the gun he was playing with. She closed her eyes and rested softly until she heard Brooke come back. She smile a weak smile as she handed her some clothes and comfy items. She glanced at her now half water bottle and the untouched granola bar. "T...thank you guys" she stuttered before walking out to change into the new clothes.


    He listened to the sounds of Brooke shuffling through the house. Glancing back at Claire - for she was now Claire instead of 'little girl', he nodded lightly. He opened his mouth to tell her things were going to be okay, then quickly thought better of it. Instead, he noticed her eyes on his semi-automatic, and quickly tucked it away, "Don't worry," he told her, "no matter what Brooke thinks, im good with a pistol."


    He glanced up when Brooke entered. He still regarded her warily, eyes hard as she approached him. He immediately grew suspicious when she showed him a couple of bullets. Like hell whoever lived her just had bullets and no gun. He was about to point it out, when she revealed she had the weapon. He frowned at her, but decided he ought to be thankful she told the truth. 'Sides, she wasn't bad with a gun.

    He nodded, before pausing.

    Jeremy, being the socially awkward young man that he was all his life, often resided in the side-lines. Because of this, he contented himself with watching others, observing them. He had a hawk-eye for every little detail. So as he watched her hand the bear and clothes to Clair, he noticed the blood on her hands and the tell-tell smear on her mouth.


    He stood straighter when she returned to his side to offer a cancer stick. He said nothing to it, looking instead past her shoulder to the rest of the house, then back again. It was obvious the house was vacant of crawler and human, so if whoever owned this place found the time to run - why wouldn't they have brought their gun?

    Leaning against the wall, he knew he didn't need to ask for the answer.


    "You're going to give me second-hand cancer," he sighed, but the anger was gone. Putting down his pack, he pulled out the thin sleeping bag and handed it to Brooke, "You get some sleep too, ill keep watch." he said, eyeing the corner of her mouth. She looked like she needed more than a cig. "And hey, squirt, you better eat that granola bar. You need all the energy you can get right now!"



    (c)trexgirl