Posts by Shunky

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In a world of impurity and hatred, the seed of hell took root. After a while, politics crumbled, government fell to its knees, communication was lost. Widespread panic took over, fed the hunger of the crowd, like feeding a rat poison. The CDC admitted failure, the survivors lost hope, and the roots of hell now escaping their loam to claim their victims, we follow a group of few people, the last few stragglers who have reason to carry on in a world lost to death and destruction.
Few words of hope act as wing to these strong humans, who've gone from ordinary family-making-bubblies to apocolypse-ready-fighters.
Will you survive amidst the walkers, or will you walk amongst them?

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Katie Ann Winslow
Start this up again maybe?
My fingers gently flicked the two reins in my hands, and Gin lifted his head ever so slightly, sniffing the air. He had halted at the top of a small knoll, and the field ahead of us swooshed in the auburn sunlight. He stood stock still, the wind toying with his mane and tail, teasing my blonde braid. One hand rested on my leg, the other holding the reins, and the gentle aroma of summer grass, oak trees, and running water filter thinly through my nose. The sun sets like a brazen child, unwilling to go, and burns deep orange in the umber sky. Pastel pink and purples float like cotton, drifting like the nomads they are, accompanying the sun in it's descent.
The horses are below us, grazing relaxed in the field, ripping the long strands of timothy grass from the ground, the wind moving it like a sea of fawn and light green.
My eyes rest on the foal, whose small body is covered with open sores. The little filly's knees are swollen and stiff when she walks, her head drooping and eyes half shut and crusty. The lump below her throat and raspy breathing, which heaves her sides, inform me that she has next to no chance at all. She has the Strangles, and for such a delicate, young creature, it's very rarely anything but deadly. I will not bring Gin close to her, because it's also contagious. The deep pain inside me will not recede, knowing full well the foal will have to be put to sleep here, and now. Bringing her back to the farm would only hurt our healthy horses. The mare would need to be in isolation for weeks to be sure she shows no signs of the disease, because the foal got it from somewhere.
Bearing a heavy heart, I turned Gin away, my eyes dark and guarded. I will not cry, but the sadness weighed down on my shoulders, and I returned to Brookie on the road. I angled Gin up to the truck door, and my voice was thick when I relayed the news to her. My downcast eyes refused to look at her.
"The filly has Strangles. We'll call the vet, get him here. The mare might make it, but the stress of losing her foal might kill her. We might need to find her a surrogate foal. I can't tell if she's sick, but hopefully not, or we'll have to put them both down."

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Elizabeth Lynn Carson, aka Eli
Starter poooost!
The morning dawned on a bloody sky for small town Georgia, and nearly unbearable heat blistered the day like the festering and cracked skin of the hoard of walking dead, who were looking to claim victims who were unsuspecting of their vicious intentions.
My fingers stroked the velveteen fur of my Mustang, Ada, and caressed his slick neck, damp with sweat from the heat generated under his hunter-cut mane. My right hand adjusted the western saddle on his tall back, bringing the hefty leather slightly further up on his sixteen hand withers and pulling the blanket up so as to give him extra room to move. Ada's mane was frizzy from the humidity, and I deftly untangled minuscule knots in the coarse hair while my other hand continued the minor adjustments needed to keep him comfortable on our long ride. With a final pat, I bent down and reached under him, retrieving the girth from the other side of his belly and bringing it to the buckle on my side. With a gentle smile, I drew it up as far as I could, knowing I'd have to tighten the strong wool strap outside. At last ready, I tilted my cowboy hat down slightly to protect my eyes from the blazing sun, and brought the reigns up over Ada's head, the loyal horse bowing his head for me to reach without a problem.
The heels on my boots thudded gently on the stable floor as I lead Ada outside, the wave of heat slamming us like a tsunami. Being over ninety eight degrees last I checked, the heat would rise as the sun did, so by then it had to be over a hundred. The red dust plumed as Ada's hooves scuffed the ground, his eyes half closed, relaxed in my presence. In the vague distance, the rolling fields of my property climbed over a steep hill and rose to meet the ten foot tall concrete wall, reinforced with rolls of razor wire coiling like serpents on the top of the wave peaked chain link fence built into the top of the concrete. Ada lazily ambled after me, more than willing to follow the loving owner who saved him from himself so many years ago, and snorted in the high temperature.
With now-damp palms, I tightened his girth once more, buckling the straps down securely and rocking his saddle to be sure it was on tight. Then, with growing impatience to get the hot day over with, I flung the reigns over his head and climbed into the saddle, taking time to adjust myself to the comfortable seat. Sliding my feet into the stirrups, I lifted the reigns with one hand and clucked my tongue, knowing full well that I put too much time into training him. With one final glance at the lovely restored farmhouse and beautiful hardwood stables I owned, we set out on our early morning trek around the perimeter.

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Elizabeth Lynn Carson
K, starting us off.
to the blazing sun. My brows furrowed, and I unlatched the canteen from Ada's saddle, twisting the cap off and taking a deep drink to quench my thirst after an hour of checking the perimeter. By now, I was rounding the final corner and was almost back at the house, where I'd untack Ada and release him into his nice cool stall. But despite my drink, the sound persisted, and I came to realize that it most certainly was not a hallucination. Suddenly at attention, I tapped Ada's sides and adjusted myself, urging him into a canter, and we loped across my back yard, reaching the front courtyard in less than a minute.

Sure enough, outside the gate, a horse and rider could be seen, and to their side a guy on a motorcycle. From the hundred-yard distance I was at, they looked well enough, but as Ada and I neared them they were visibly exhausted, physically and mentally. The rider, a girl, has blister from her sunburn all over her arms, and the guy, who I mentally noted was quite hot, was slumped in his seat and rested his head on his shoulder while the two seemingly watched me, checking over their shoulders every now and again.

I jumped off Ada, leaving the reigns on his back, and as I darted over to the fence I clucked my tongue for him to follow. The large horse clopped his shod hooves behind me, picking up a trot as I lunged towards the fence, spotting approaching walkers in the distance.

"Alright guys, back up! I'm opening the fence, so just hold on!"

The simple pulley system I'd set up was safeproofed, the gates opening into a holding spot, with a second gate before my property. The cobblestone walkway outside the first gate was stained red and green, having been my safezone to kill the infected without the chance of them coming onto my property. The two gates swung outwards and stopped on spiked wooden posts, which caught any stray walkers who decided to get in the way.

I dragged open the first gate, holding it open just long enough for the people to get in, and slammed it behind them, trapping them in the holding area. I jogged over to the second gate and unlocked the padlock, spinning the numbers to my code quickly and accurately, then dragged the sliding wrought iron gate open for them.

"Head up to the house, wait outside. I'll take care of your horse first. The bike can be parked in the garage. I'll be expecting you two to accompany me to the stables while I'm caring for that chestnut, or we'll have an issue. And we do not want that."

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Elizabeth Lynn Carson
...
I followed the two up to the house after securing the gate, checking outside once last time to be sure no herd had come through after them. Satisfied, I brought the reigns over Ada's head, and I led him up to the house and the two collapsed people.

The guy, who was now eyeing my figure like a hungry wolf outside a banquet, looking pretty damn good, sunburn and grime and all. My cheeks flushed a tad, coloring my tan skin a light chiffon. I averted my eyes quickly and studied the rest of him, noting the ripped and stained fabric on his chest, where it looked as though he'd gotten cut. The rip was small, and cleaner, so it didn't look as though a walker had done it, so I wasn't concerned about that, but it needed to be tended to, and soon. My brows furrowed slightly, and I looked over the rest of him, noticing little scuffs here and there, and deducted that it was more than the every day wear and tear of the zombie apocalypse.

I pointed across the courtyard to the large three car garage, one door open and inviting into the dark abyss that knew no light. I kept it dark to keep in the cold, and just stepping inside had noticeable difference in temperatures.

"There. Don't go across the lawn, it's been a pain caring for that after this whole thing started. My garden? Don't even get me started on that." I smiled softly and turned to the girl and her horse.

"So, I'm Eli. I need to know your names before I can trust you. Care to enlighten me so I can get you guys inside and healthy? You'll be needing some aloe and tea-soaked cloths, and you," I glanced at the guy, "look like you'll be needing slightly more attentive medical care. Lucky I'm a vet, so I know what I'm doing. But first, let's get your horse cared for, so we don't need to worry about him."

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Eli Lynn Carson
Ooc: Sorry for the power play, ya'll were asleep!! And, happy new year! I'm throwing everything on now so we can just pick up where we left off, love.
The look on Daryl's face was... hot. He smirked at me and I followed his eyes as he trailed them along my body, undressing me. My face was crimson by now, and I felt my mouth go slack, turned on by this. In all truth, I was pretty, yes, but having this newcomer eyeing me was more than my mind could handle. But his words served as both a reminder and a compliment, one I was flattered by, and they drew back from the world of lust.

"The uh, stable's this way. We can grab some drinks there, I keep cups and stuff inside the tack room." With Ada at my heel, I turn to head to the stables, and shake my head.

Men.

TIME SKIP

With Cowboy all cared for and Ada turned into a stall, I ushered the two into the house, both thoroughly full of water to the point I thought they'd puke. Now came caring for Brooke and Daryl's wounds. Both were sunburned, but Brooke's looked much worse, hers with blisters on the top of her arms that looked mighty painful. I prayed her back was alright or we'd have too cut her shirt off so as to avoid injuring her arms any more, and.. I didn't exactly look forward to that. Aloe vera lotion with some tea-soaked hand towels should bring down the blisters soon enough, and by adding Indian Almond leaves to the tea I hoped to reduce the pain the texture of the towels might cause. By od family tradition, we'd also throw in some chamomile to soothe the senses at the same time, and I put on the pot of tea as soon as I brought the two indoors. The temperature dropped to about sixty degrees, and I was thankful for the difference. With tender fingers, I checked Brooke's head for heat, and my mouth set into a grim line. Her gorgeous defined face was beautiful even under the sunburn, and I immediately liked her. with long, caramel hair and gorgeous eyes, she looked like the kind of girl you'd find in a bar just clubbing, not looking to get out of there. But she had a fever that'd need to be brought down, and the blisters meant second degree burns at least. Time, patience, rest, and supplies that we thankfully had were necessary for her recovery.

"By all accounts, you're heat exhausted. Both of you need to rest for a few days, take a break. You can stay here, it's safe, and it gets lonely for a gal on her own, so I'll be glad for the company. Brooke, go lay down in the living room while I get the aloe and tea, which is right through there." I nodded to the archway separating the kitchen and living room, the couch visible from my position.

"Daryl, is that a cut on you chest? How bad is it?" My concerned eyes flicked to the blood-stained spot on his chest, just under his right collar bone, that looked older and open from the brightly colored drops speckled over dried blood. The leather of his vest, depicting wings on the back, was ripped there and had minor tears elsewhere, covered with the red Georgia clay dust that drifted everywhere. Brooke's clothes were the same way.

"Let me see it and I'll treat it, alright?" Though I hated to push it, I laid my hand kindly on his shoulder, very gently tugging the lapel of the leather vest away and revealing the tee under it. Wincing every time he moved too far, he helped me take the vest off, and I gently lifted the shirt off him, taking care to slowly remove the fabric from the wound, though he groaned despite my careful effort.

"Sorry. I'm trying. The fabric was stuck."

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Alex Stark
...
The sweet sound of country music filled my ears as I drove my newest car, a Hyundai, down the small dirt road just off the highway, wondering what oasis of walkers lay at the end. To hell with it. Traveling alone, no reason to live, what was the point? I had no idea. By then I was ready to call it quits and park the car, open the doors, and blare enough music to draw the dead from miles away.

This brought the simple question to my head, however, of whether or not these singers were still alive. I mean, think about it. They had body guards, right? So they ought to do just fine if they were smart enough to get to a defendable position. But, then, they knew no means of the real world. They'd never lived poor, never had to literally fend for themselves. They grew up on expensive tutors, prissy boarding schools, and parents who handed everything to them.

My overall outlook on life wasn't so bad, really, but the insanity dragging itself into my head from driving miles upon miles with nothing but killing dead people was getting old. I mean, really old. I'd killed before, heck, I was in the Marine with over three hundred confirmed bad guy kills, but dead people? I mean, come on. They're dead, they ought to stay dead. Gets old. In all honesty, if I were to stumble upon some hot chick who was willing to do anything, by all means I'd settle down, find some good defendable building, hole us up there and stay. But, then, all the hot ones were dead.

Or, at least I thought they were.

The sudden appearance of a ten foot tall concrete wall with chain link wave topping and razor wire caught my attention like a brick to my face. The reality of it was ingenious. There I was, ready to kill myself, and I stumble upon... this. Some sort of fort built for this shit that had been going on for nearly two years. Someone was smart.

And was also not coming to the gate.

The American ingenuity in my kicked in while I surveyed the area, and at last I exited the parked car as softly as I could and grabbed the pack from the back seat, my survival backpack stuffed with my crap that I'd need to live. Finally, a place seemingly livable! And, to top it off, I climbed trees.

However, my little idea was put to the test with these monstrous beauties. No low limbs, stock straight in the air, with the coarsest bark I'd ever felt. No way I'd be climbing these suckers. My clothes would get caught, and shimmying up a tree in clothing stuck to the bottom'd be rather difficult. And there was no way I was going up naked, that'd be suicide. Seriously, I'd die from the pain it'd cause my lower... extremities.

But, to my pleasure, I did manage to find a fallen log, and propped it against the wall with pleasure. Having been in the Marines, I knew how to scale a log, then knock it over so nobody, or nothing, could follow you, but just as I thought the razor wire-capped chain link fence waving out towards me proved to be a problem. So, of course, I took the easy route. I pulled some wire cutters from my bag, snipped a hole large enough for myself, slipped through, and patched the hole with industrial-strength wiring that I carried for this reason. With the log knocked over, the fence cleared, and the chain-link repaired, my only issue now was getting down.

So I jumped.

Much to my surprise, it does hurt jumping ten feet into soft, loamy soil in which flowers were planted with care, and quite recently. My feet crushed several Gardenias, and though I felt bad, it was a small price to pay for my life, though I doubted the owner would feel so caring towards my little accident. I managed to tromp through the rest of the garden without hurting another single flower, and sighed with relief once I got out.

Now to find... the owner...

Holy god, this place was amazing. It stuck of the rich, and the rich with taste, too. Beautiful rolling fields, Oak wood stables, a gorgeous farmhouse, this garden, and even a pond with koi in it and a vegetable garden too. Off in the distance, a chicken house could be seen by the far end of the stables, and there grazing in the field were three cows and two little calves, too. The glory of this oasis smacked me flat in the face, and I instantly wondered who had all the time for this crap. I mean, who? Chickens for eggs, cows for meant and milk, gardens for vegetables and prettiness, a restored farmhouse mirroring the gorgeous oak stables... in this mess? It looked like it'd never seen the gory details of the living, walking dead who wanted to kill and eat, kill and eat, kill and eat.

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Elizabeth Lynn Carson
...
"Yeah, I worked hard to keep it this way. And yeah, I'm filthy rich, but none of that matters any more. At the first sign of this, I had that wall built, despite the fact everyone thought me crazy." I glanced at her, a half smile on my face. "But anyways, like I said, you're welcome to stay."

Looking back at the wound on Daryl's chest, the skin peppered with wavy brunette hairs, my eyes softened a little, filled with concern for this man. His hands rested on his thighs, and he sat with his head up cockily, staring at me while I inspected his injury. Though the cut was long, it was neater than I'd expected, not torn on the edges and remarkably clean. But even then, thin slivers of wood peeked out from the depths of the injury, and I knew that treating that would hurt like hell. The skin was torn down to the membrane but thankfully no further, so no stiches would be required, but with the three inches it covered I'd have to put on some butterfly stiches to keep it together. Daryl's face was inches from mine as I looked closely at the bloody spot on his chest, my feather-light hair brushing his ribs. With a blush on my face, I tucked the blonde strands behind my ear subconsciously, and rose to begin preparing to care for that cut.

"The wound isn't deep, but I'll have to put on some butterfly stitches after I clean it out. There are some splinters in there, so let me get you some Alieve and water before I begin. Stay here, do not do anything to stretch that wound."

I slipped from the kitchen on light feet, hurrying through the hall to the bathroom to retrieve the medicine, and rifled through the cabinets in search of the other tools I'd need; Gauze, med tape, antiseptic spray, iodine pads, butterfly stitches, tweezers, and a ptri dish for the splinters, and a small dixie cup of water with a bottle of Alieve next to it. Gathering it all up, I trucked the supplies back to the kitchen, and laid the impressive display on the counter.

"Here's the pain killers. I'll try to be gentle, but it's still going to hurt." I handed him the dixie cup and shook two pills from the small bottle, laying them in his other hand. "We'll give it some time to kick in before I start, ok?" Smiling kindly at him, my blue eyes dark with concern, I turned away, opening the freezer to pull out an ice pack. "And a numbing agent might help, too. It's up to you, but I'd recommend holding this against your chest for a few minutes while the meds kick in, so that way you're doubly insured."

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Eli Lynn Carson
...I only power play cuz I love you lol
Daryl's breath ruffled my hair before I tucked the strands back, and while he held the ice pack to his chest I pulled the blonde hair back, tucking it into a cute, sloppy bun, but even then stray strands refused to leave the sides of my face and hung there disobediently. I quirked my mouth in displeasure, momentarily distracted, but was drawn back by the look of pain on Daryl and Brooke's faces. Instantly alert, I looked between the two, and finally settled on singing to break the quiet. My soft voice filled the awkward silence with a serene sound, the notes drifting through my house like songbirds.

"I will see you again, oh-ohh, this is not where it ends, I will carry, you with me, ohhh. 'Till I see you again..." Carrie Underwood's song See You Again entered my mind and soothed me, and I continued the song while I picked the tweezers up and knelt by Daryl's chair, directly in front of him. The overhead light was on so I could see, and I placed my hand on his, guiding the ice pack away as I looked into his eyes.

"Ready?"

I smiled reassuringly and began my work. Entirely focused on my patient, I carefully removed splinter after splinter, going slowly and cautiously. But even after the pain killers, the strained look on Daryl's face told me he was hurting, and as I removed the final piece of wood, my eyes met his. The hazy blue was clouded with agony, and their tortured look made my eyes well with tears. Animals were one thing, I could deal with their pain, because I knew how to make it better. But humans were entirely different for me. My voice faltered momentarily before I regained my posture, and I quickly stood to snatch my antiseptic spray and iodine pads. With tender fingers, I swiped the bloody gash with the iodine pads, and sprayed the numbing antiseptic spray over the wound.

"I will carry, you with me..."

Then, well aware the skin would be over sensitized and just beginning to numb, I wiped the extra spray away from the edges of the injury, and I softly pulled the skin together, placing four butterfly stitches over the cut and sticking the edges to his chest. At last safe, I grinned and placed gauze over that to absorb any blood and applied medical tape to hold it in place.

"There. All done. You ought to go lay down while I clean all this up and get you some aloe for your sunburn.. Unless you'd like me to get that now? Up to you." My blue eyes met his, and I smiled, my song ended.

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Eli Lynn Carson
...
The surprise that entered my head immediately turned to suspicion as I realized that this could be a ruse to overthrow my property. My heart almost stopped when Brooke pulled a gun and went out the door, and I snatched my Berretta 92fs pistol from my leg holster, leveling it with Daryl's head, though it killed me to do so.
"I don't know what the hell you guys are pulling, but three survivors in two separate groups on the same day less than two hours apart sounds more than a little dangerous to me. I want you on my side. Are you going to help meget your sister calmed down, or are we going to have a problem?"

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Elizabeth Lynn Carson
...
Blue eyes danced with distrust as I studied Daryl's face, taking in his convincing honest look. His honey colored eyes were sincere, and my aim wavered, dropping several inches as my eye mirrored his for a moment. My features relaxed entirely, and I looked away, out the window to Brooke, my gun still aimed at Daryl, while he spoke. "Look." His words connected, and I realized that with the state they were in, there was no way they'd planned this in their hallucinatory, delusional, dehydrated state, having been sun dried. My gun fell to my side, and I turned my gaze back to Daryl, holstering the gun slowly and deliberately, to show that I wasn't going to hurt him. Trust instilled itself in my heart, and I no longer doubted him.
I knelt down and picked up his crossbow, running my fingers over the smooth metal, and nodded. Looking up with trust in my Caribbean eyes, I held it out to him.
"Then let's go save that poor guy's life before Brooke kills him."

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Alexander Jon Stark
No bio. Cuz I'm cool like that.
With a sigh of relief, I closed my eyes, soaking up the bright sun which I hadn't been able to enjoy for months. I was born in Canada, so this weather was nice for me, and the danger was out of the way, for the moment.
But, my lovely world of perfection came crashing down when the sound of pounding boots rushed into my head, and the voice of a young woman pierced the air. I furrowed my brow and opened my eyes in confusion, a what-the-he'll look on my face, then rightened my head from leaning it back to the sun to fully evaluate the situation. My marines training cycled in my mind about being held at gunpoint, and I cautiously raised my hands in the air. Behind her, another young woman came running out the door, a guy hot on her heels, and as the other girl reached them, she pulled her gun too, but not for me, apparently.
"Brooke, put it down. Now. This is not how I run things around here. You want to stay, you put it down. Got it?" Her voice was smooth, and her look unharmed, with delicate tan skin the color of a latte's creamy froth. Her golden hair fell in bouncy waves around her face, and blue eyes shone from the lovely face framed by her hair. But who really caught my attention was the girl they called Brooke. Her hair was the color of the sun hitting one of those ancient trees outside, the ones I dared not climb, brunette with the sun hitting it just right to make the locks of hair shine redder than the Georgian clay dust. Blue ice the color of the sky were surrounded by lush lashes, full lips were taut in anger, and fine eyebrows were bod against her sunburnt skin. Her complexion, minus the sunburn, was clear and held the look of a fighter. I fell in love.
"Woah, woah, woah. I came in here because nobody was at the gate, it looked safe. Please don't make me wrong on that. It is, right? Safe, that is. This place looks like heaven. Must be untouched by the rest of the polluted world. I'm Alex Stark."

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Eli Lynn Carson
Love your post! And I found my iPod this morning, and mommy bought me a phone card I needed but couldn't afford for my birthday. ;3; I'm having a good day. Even got to sleep in late under warm, fuzzy blankets with a puppy circled up in the crook of my knees keeping me warm and a shepherd on my toeses. ;3;
I holstered my gun and my shoulders relaxed, the excitement of the moment making me shake slightly. I sighed with relief, not knowing these two yet or their temper, and an apologetic relieved look washed over my features.
"Sorry, I just.. Don't know you two yet. I I had handled you two the same way you handled him, you'd have been running the other way or attacking me, and that isn't how you show hospitality. This place is self-sustaining for up to five people, and four is no big deal. Clearly, he wanted in, and was smart enough to patch the hole he cut in my fence, or I would have told you to pull that trigger already,I'm Eli, by the way, and I own this place," I looked pointedly at Alex. "And you'll do well to remember that." I knelt to retrieve Brooke's gun and held it out to her, my left hand holding it by the barrel, pointing down, and looked back at her. With an apologetic smile, I looked up at her, being shorter than anyone here. The random thought that maybe now, I could get something off a high shelf without an issue crossed my mind, and the irony that I was in a tense situation I helped create and I was thinking about how short and probably up intimidating was seemed funny to me, and I had to look way to avoid giggling.
"Anyways, despite our rather terse relationship so far, you're welcome to come in and rest. With is what all of us should be doing, especially you, Daryl. If you guys want, I'll tell you a little about my past and why I'm here."

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Elizabeth Lynn Carson
Hmm. ^^
The long day began to wear on me as I put on a pot of coffee, my favorite cup depicting me smiling hugging Ada, the days before this disaster struck us and I realized that nothing would save us. I knew back then that I wasn't the type to go out and try to fix it by killing all the walkers, and I knew I wasn't strong enough to anyways.
While the coffee brewed, I joined the group in the living room, curling up in next to Daryl on the L-shaped couch, tucking my feet under myself as I sat. Mug still in hand, I wrapped my fingers around it, looking at the monogrammed photo reminiscing. With the happy memory of the day I bought Ada in my head, a gentle smile plastered to my face, I looked around at the three other people in the room. Brooke sat to my right around the bend in the couch, Alex next to her, and Daryl sat to my left.
"Yeah, I know you're all thinking I'm rich. You're right. I was born into inheritance." A dark look crossed my face, thinking of my parents. "Not that my parents cared. But, that isn't important." I brightened, thinking of restoring my home. "I bought this place crumbling and falling down, but I had it restored and modernized it. I poured months into this place, making it into a home. At the first signs of the apocalypse, I hired a contractor to put that wall up, and even though everyone thought I was crazy, I bought a small herd of cattle and dairy cows, sheep, goats, and chickens. I planted that garden outside that you," I glanced at Alex. "Took a tromp through. Hopefully no vegetables were hurt. I stocked up farming supplies and learned all I could to build a self-sustaining farm, so in theory I'd never have to leave the walls if I lived right. In the two years of this thing, I've lived in peace. Not at first, when people started figuring out this was the safe place to go, but after a while they discovered there was no way in. Unless, seemingly, you're Alex." Annoyance dripped in my voice, but it vanished as quickly as it had come. I continued. "Then these two showed up, then Alex, and now here we are. So there's my story. Yours?" I looked around, and Alex spoke first.

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Alex Jon Stark
...
Eli's story seemed plausible, considering she'd spent two years alone with her animals and no humans. Her expression turned dark and sour as she mentioned her parents, and I deducted that she'd been abused, and the thought sickened me. Poor girl. But she covered her feelings quickly, so fast I almost thought I'd imagined them. Brooke sat next to me, between me and Eli, and Daryl sat the furthest away, but closest to Eli. In fact, as she spoke, she leaned his way subconsciously, not noticing she was doing it at all. I smirked. Love and lust are in the air today, it would seem. I felt the same way as Daryl, but towards his sister. Somehow I knew that might not go over so well. I met the guy's eyes questioningly, and watched for a response as I spoke up.
"I was born to a comfortable family with my sister, Abby. I went through high school and went on into the Marines, soon moving to the rank of Gunnery Sergeant. I came home from deployment three years ago, only to be called back out a year later to fight these dead people. Our orders were to kill all of them, head-shots only because no other vitals would kill them, and avoid contact with infected individuals. But my squad got swarmed, with over a thousand head of the dead people, in Atlanta, and only two of us got away alive. My partner and I parted ways about six months ago, out collecting supplies, when we got cut off from each other by a herd of them. I circled around to find him, but by the time I got there, it was too late. The zombies got there first. So I've been traveling ever since, until I found this place. I set a log against the fence and knocked it down as soon as I was up, then cut the fence and repaired it with Marines-issues wires strong enough to hold out enemies. And here I am."

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Eli Lynn Carson
Sorry for the delay!
My heart went out to Daryl and Brookie, fully knowing the pain of their childhood, minus the loss of their parents. My own two were far from the most loving of them all, and my eyes clouded, thinking of the many times my mother beat me and my father kicked me out of the house for simply being alive. He'd actually gone as far as hiring an assailant to kill me, after.. things. But he'd underestimated me, and his hired dog ran back whimpering to its master. I fought the urge then to cry out, instead quickly getting up and scurried to the kitchen, out of the line of sight, by the coffee maker. I leaned up against the counter and put a hand on my forehead, taking a moment to attempt to steady my harsh breathing and push away the horrid memories, failing badly. The terror of that night, one of the many when I hadn't been home in my teenage years to avoid my father's wrath, filled me then, making me shake. I remembered the smell of brandy on my assailant's berth when he shoved me up against the wall just outside the movie theater, the parking lot dark and deserted by then since the next movie had already started. I relived those wretched moments before I found the gun in my purse, and remembered the shock that hit me as the guy stumbled away bleeding from his shoulder. I remembered the police telling me that my bullet buried itself in his shoulder blade and required surgery. How I'd been smart to carry a gun and that it was better I hadn't killed him, but that they refused to tell me the whole story. Then, the shocked and repulsed, then furious face, of my father when he saw me walk in the door. And later on, the realization that he'd hired the guy and that he was paying him a lot so that he wouldn't talk to the cops about his employer.
After that, I left home. I kept a gun on my person at all times, and cleaned it daily, fired it at a range every now and again to be sure it was in working order. I carried it even now, having bought a leg holster for the suppressed Berretta 92fs semi-auto pistol. I never again went out after dark without my gun, and very rarely went without another person.
I hadn't seen or heard from my parents since.

[img width=510 height=489]http://us.cdn003.fansshare.com…al-iron-man-269136892.jpg[/img]
Alexander Jon Stark
Hm...
I narrowed my eyes as Brooke spoke nervously about her past, my emotions toying with my head as I came to despise her parents for treating her and Daryl that way. Her words spoke volumes about her state of mind, her slight emotion being hidden showing that she kept everything inside. I felt for her and wished I could make it all better.
My rational mind kicked in and yelled at me that I'd only just met her, not under the grandest of circumstances, and that a girl like Brooke wouldn't want me. No, not just me, any guy. My mind screamed that she wasn't the whole 'hearts and flowers' type, but my more relaxed head smirked and asked if my rational mind was sure. I blinked, brushing my thoughts away, and couldn't think of any way to comfort Brooke without seeming like a womanizer, so I just sat still.
My eyes drifted from the beautiful woman next to me to Eli, the more delicate type. One thing I learned throughout my Marines career was how to annalize people, and the look on her face was anguished, and my eyes followed her out as she jumped up and rushed to the kitchen. Despite her effort to disguise her pain as going to get coffee, I suspected her 'unimportant parents' were more than unimportant and she'd suffered through much of what Brooke and Daryl had. Was I the only one here without past issues? I'd grown up with a loving family, a gorgeous younger sister and a handsome older brother, two perfect parents, and a Classic American family, where my brother became a doctor and my sister became a lawyer, and I became a Marine. Compared, I was blessed, and it only just occurred to me that I took it all for advantage. I hadn't seen my family for years. Who knew if they were even alive any more? Maybe this disaster had killed them. The idea struck home, and I became frustrated with myself, seeing what an idiot I'd been. I should have been there with them when this started, but work came first with me. It always had. But, maybe now, I could fix that, start something with the woman next to me. A ray of light shined on my thoughts, and it brightened my momentary mood exponentially. I saw that that was what I wanted. I wanted to make something with Brooke. Love at first sight? Yeah. That fit me a lot.