The Walking Dead: Survivor Stories / Episode 1 [IC][Closed]

[Sentinel XV]

The Survivor Stories

The world has fallen, and the living have become prey for the dead. All across America, we have seen the disintegration and downfall of human dominance and society: social order crumbling, infrastructure failing, and the human psyche reverting to its natural state of survival. But is all hope lost? Some say that safety lies in Nebraska. Some, in Europe. Others say that there is no hope, and that there never will be, that all is gone, and they are the only left. Many "opted-out" in the first few weeks of the apocalypse, most succumbed to the hordes of infected, but a small few were able to survive. Now, they must weather this onslaught of the undead the best they can. People will die along the way, friendships and trusts will be broken, but in the end.. will it be for the greater good?

---

[OOC Note: The Survivor Camp will be a half mile away from Horseshoe Lake, which is several miles North of Ann Arbor.]

The 9 o'clock sun had barely risen over the tree line, but the clearing was already filled with activity. It was the site of one of the only known survivor camps in the Ann Arbor area, a region that was now dominated by the Walking Dead. In one corner of the camp, nearest the large dirt trail that served as the only entrance and exit into the clearing, a neat line of vehicles was situated, containing everything from Ford Explorers to a Tour Bus. On the other end, rows of tents were pitched in random order, with fire pits spaced between them. All-in-all, the survivor camp was a growing affair with upwards of 30 people currently calling it home. It housed all manners of people, from nearly every walk of life, and with a plethora of occupations and experiences. But was it safe? Would it remain safe? Those were questions that could not be easily answered, but could not be avoided.

One man, his navy-blue US Marshals jacket zipped halfway up his chest, stood with a crossbow over one shoulder and a pistol at his hip. He looked across the tree line, which was illuminated in translucent green by the rising sun. Today was a very important day for him and the rest of the survivors. Supplies were running low, and a trip would have to be made back into Ann Arbor: a calculated risk, but a needed one. Supplies were nonexistent here, so far outside of the city. While they had a nearly unlimited supply of fresh water in the form of Horseshoe Lake, only so much food could be hunted and scavenged, and medicine was nowhere to be found.

Slowly, a group of survivors gathered around the man, Johann Steele. The US Federal Marshal looked at them one by one with a silent nod of greeting. Some were armed, some were not. Some had experience, others lacked the same, but made up for it in their own ways.

"Alright," he said with gruff authority, "I can't take all of you, you know that. Ann Arbor is a very dangerous place, that you know too. Now I need to know, why do you want to go into Ann Arbor. What are you good at, what can you do that will help to keep us alive?"

[Cylarn]

Scott Sheridan, an Ann Arbor Patrol Officer, stepped forward. He was wearing the typical black police uniform with black BDU pants, as well as a tactical vest. Slung over his left shoulder was a Remington 700 Hunting Rifle and he had a Mossberg 500 in his right hand. When Johann asked what they were good at, Scott looked the man in the eyes, giving him a stern look.

"I am a Patrol Officer and a Gunnery Sergeant in the Marine Reserves," he said, speaking with a southern accent with authority behind it. "I served in Force Recon and I'm no stranger to combat. I've got nothin' much left to lose, so I would like to join you in Ann Arbor."

[Nexeria]

Kenny Fountain looked up at the man, now was a chance in his life he could finally do some good.

"I'm Kenny, Kenny Fountain, listen I'd like to help out. I mean I did bring the bus and all. I worked in town, so I know Ann Arbor well enough. I wasn't in the military, but I'm pretty quick on feet and know my way around a bad situation. "

[Dilange]

The 9'o clock sun beat in the open windows of the attic of a lone ranch house. A young Middle Eastern man was already up and doing some exercises to wake himself up. He was dressed in his military uniform of green fatigues and wore his family heirloom yarmulke as a sign of his devout faith to Adonai. He walked over to his rations, he had a two month supply of water and food which he could extend to half a year. He took a small drink of a bottle of water and a bite of a energy bar.

He went over to a nearby table and grabbed his Gewehr 43 rifle which he converted into a make-shirt sniper rifle with a custom sniper scope, suppressor muzzle, and bipod. He check the ammuntion for his rifle, he had only 3 clips. He sighed and walked over to a chair and the front open window. He sat down and looked outside, aiming his rifle.

"No walkers.....must be my day." Yoni said to himself.

He got up and walked to opposite window. No walkers in sight. Yoni grinned a dim smile. He walked over to the table where his walkie-talkie was and checked local frequencies from the Ann Arbor area.

[Khelshar]

Thomas stood on the roof at the Ann Arbor Police Station, looking at the city, watching as all the zombies, or walker(OOC:was it wanderer?), as officials has called them, wandering the streets aimlessly. He took his shotgun, that he had taken from the police armory, and went down to the entrance, and just observed how they were beating at the doors, mindlessly.
OOC: I'l be offline for an hour, my family suddenly wants to spend time with me.

[Ceannairceach]

This morning had been a early one for the older, tanned man sleeping in a hard-roof Jeep Wrangler. Before the majority of the survivors here at the camp were awake, even before the turn of the irregular guard shift, he was awake, rolling out a cheap blanket on the ground pointing towards the expected rising sun in the pre-dawn hours to perform his Fajr prayer. Immediately afterwords, he cooked a meal fit for a Muslim, and though he understood that eventually his meals would become less and less halal, it was best to continue the practice for as long as possible.

Haji al-Atrash was a man of Egyptian heritage from his immigrant parents, born in America and thus American in the eyes of the law. Though not the best Muslim in the faith, he made attempts to keep to his religion as best as possible, knowing Allah would be forgiving for his transgressions.

Following his own meal, he went to chop wood, wielding his recently sharpened hatchet. That hatchet had saved his lives on numerous occasions; From a bear while camping two years ago, from a racially motivated burglar and vandal, and more recently, from the living dead. Yes, Haji had seen, and fought the living dead to some extent. Some called them walkers, others zombies. Haji, personally, didn't know what to call them when the corpse of his neighbors child rose up in an attempt to bite him after performing CPR on the convulsing boy as he laid dying. His more religious compatriots had referred to them as ghouls, after the allegedly lower djinn who preyed on the flesh of the living and dead, and as such followed the trend, but not entirely believing the superstition they had created.

After cutting the wood and bringing it into the camps communal supply, taking some of the smaller pieces for himself, he heard the camps de facto commander, Johann Steele, a US Marshal who had taken it upon himself to create order in the camp. From the sound of it, he was asking for select volunteers with useful skill sets to join him on a trip into Ann Arbor. Ann Arbor, once the home to Haji and the distributing center of his small fishing business, was now a city of the damned. If at all possible, Haji would have liked to never see the city again; He had lost too much there, from friends and associates to family.

Nevertheless, he took a step into the circle, and announced with a blend of an American and Egyptian accent, "I am Haji al-Atrash. I am a pilot, and can fly most planes should you find one. I am also a commercial fisherman, and can identify equipment if we can find it. I still have the key to my distribution center, too. I camp most weekends, and can help with camping stores, if we found any." Lifting up his hatchet, he showed the weapon he'd been using since the outbreak took over the city. "I've been using this to defend myself against the ghouls. I can defend myself."

[Cylarn]

Being a combat veteran of the War on Terror, Scott had developed a distrust for Muslims. He shot a glare at the Arab man before looking back at Johann. Years of fighting Muslim extremists had given him a racist side, but with time and experience, it would probably diminish.

[Nexeria]

Kenny looked at Haji and smiled, he always liked foreigners, which was an odd thing since he was raised in the south. Kenny was trying think of questions to ask the Muslim, because he had never met one. Kenny decided to remain silent and wait for Johann's reply.

[Dilange]

Yoni sat back down with the walkie-talkie in his hand. He took out a prayer book from a near-by drawer and read some psalms and prayers. He was most familiar with reading the Mourner's Kaddish, he was always chosen to read it at the funerals for soldiers. He put the book down and opened up the gun closet again.

Inside were his Jericho pistol and his Kukri machete, which he liked to have on hand in case of combat scenarios. Also there were three other guns that he was finished with: An Uzi, a Remington 870 Pump Shotgun, and Colt Python revolver. These three guns were never used by Yoni, he was more proficent with pistols and rifles. He could use a shotgun in case of emergencies, but never liked to use them. He holstered his Jericho and his Kukri and closed the closet.

He went over to his gunsmit station and looked at his current project: rebuilding a destroyed PSG1 Sniper Rifle. He looked grim about it, but he needed it done in case his Gewehr ran out of ammo.

"The barreling is all fucked up and the operating system is trashed. I need to find replacement parts for this monster, or else I have to rely on no-walker days." he muttered.

[SSTxReaper]

Waking up early that morning, Li stretched his body and looked over his equipment. "Mp5 checked, 2 clips for it....Glock 19 check,..... 3 clips for it as well.... Binoculars....Walkie Talkie,.... All checked for." Li always checks for his equipment ever since he found the Police Station. When he arrived there, there was already several survivors holed up. They were happy enough to let him in... now its been days since he met them. It has also been days since his whole squad got killed by those walking things outside.

Being on the rooftop of the Police Station, Li took out his binoculars and checked the surrounding area for any other survivors or any kind of sign of help coming. But each day offer nothing new to him. Finally deciding that nothing new would happen Li took out his walkie talkie to check for anyone that had a radio and to communicate with.

"Hello? Is anyone out there?" Li repeated himself over several times as well and yet no answer but static. Li went down into the police station to meet with his fellow "room-mates."

[Lancearc]

Nick sat in the hospital room, next to the dying man he'd fought to save from becoming one of the walkers. This man was the last surviving patient that had this...disease that had killed off most of the hospital. Luckily, Nick had been able to barricade the door with a heavy heart monitor, a shelf and one of the unoccupied beds in the room. As the man next to him faded from life, he could see him becoming one of those creatures,Chris skin becoming cold and gray. Taking the metal bat he'd strangely enough found in a janitor's closet, he raised it it over his head, before bringing it sown over the man's head. He head a sickening crack, and the only sound now was the breathing if the doctor, and a few walkers stumbling around in the lobby of the hospital. He peeked out the window into the street, and the only thing he could spot was death. He hadn't been able to save on of his patient from this mystery disease. He sat on one of the beds, sighing. He couldn't do anything now, only wait to be devoured by the beasts or, by some small chance, escape the hospital by some slim chance. He lay on his side, resigned to his most likely fate of being a meal for those strange people outside.

[Dilange]

Waking up early that morning, Li stretched his body and looked over his equipment. "Mp5 checked, 2 clips for it....Glock 19 check,..... 3 clips for it as well.... Binoculars....Walkie Talkie,.... All checked for." Li always checks for his equipment ever since he found the Police Station. When he arrived there, there was already several survivors holed up. They were happy enough to let him in... now its been days since he met them. It has also been days since his whole squad got killed by those walking things outside.

Being on the rooftop of the Police Station, Li took out his binoculars and checked the surrounding area for any other survivors or any kind of sign of help coming. But each day offer nothing new to him. Finally deciding that nothing new would happen Li took out his walkie talkie to check for anyone that had a radio and to communicate with.

"Hello? Is anyone out there?" Li repeated himself over several times as well and yet no answer but static. Li went down into the police station to meet with his fellow "room-mates."

(Image)

Yoni heard some talking over the walkie talkie and picked it up.

"Hello?! Hello?! Did someone just speak?!" Yoni said over the walkie-talkie.

He picked up his Gewehr and checked outside once again and saw no one.

[Cylarn]

Scott's walkie talkie crackled with the sounds of life. He proceeded to reply.

"Repeat, over," he said. "Static's bad on your end, over."

[Khelshar]

Thomas saw that the doors started to give after, so he started barricading the doors. Tables, chairs, plants, everything he could use. When he was done, he went to the police radio on the roof, and tries to reach any contact.
This is Thomas Hansen, speaking. I'm currently at the Ann Arbor Police Station, if anyone can hear me, now you know. He said, ironically.If you listen, Ann Arbor Police Station. The front doors are barricaded, so you'l have to climb the roof. It is a very safe place, we are stocking up alot of food and ammo supplies. And the weather for now is lightly clouded, with a big chance of zombies. He said, jokefully.If you listen, you ca He stopped. Whats the point of it? There is no one there' He said to himself.

[Cylarn]

"Remain calm," he said. "Help will be on the way, over."

[Dilange]

Scott's walkie talkie crackled with the sounds of life. He proceeded to reply.

"Repeat, over," he said. "Static's bad on your end, over."

"Hello! Who is this? What's your situation?" Yoni said.

He looked outside once again and saw one Walker. He put his Gewehr on the windowsill and set down the bipod. He aimed through the scope at the head of the Walker.

*bang*

He fired one shot, silenced so no attention would be brought, into the head and killed the Walker. He brought back the Gewehr and walked around the attic.

"I need some help with ammuniton down here. I'm running low and I have no transportation." he said,

[Monfrox]

Streets are for the Dead
Allison walked through the alleys on alert for any noise. Having been in the grid for Search and Rescue many a time before, her ears were trained well to pick up every tiny thing that they could. It was imperative that they did, as it could mean the difference between her life as normal and the rest spent shambling down the street. She looked to see she was on a road called Jackson Avenue. Figuring it enough, she might as well follow it down. She did, until she came to where it intersected with Dexter Road and turned into W. Huron Street. feeling a bit lost, she moved off the street and kept going quietly, not sure of what to expect.

Looking at herself in a mirrored reflection of a window, she smirked a little cockily as she saw herself. In two holsters that she found in her travels; on her left hip was the Walther PPK, and on the right was her Smith and Wesson 357 revolver. On a sling that went across her chest, was the Remington 514 rifle. Towards the top of that, was the sheathed kodachi. And in her hands, she carried the crowbar. She felt almost unstoppable, until she realized that one stupid thought like that could easily get her killed. She would play it safe for now.

She hadn't seen any other people that weren't dead or walkers since she got out of Monroe, but she figured that there were others. There had to be. No way was she the last one alive. She couldn't be. She refused to believe it and kept going down the street. Maybe there would be someone in the city's outer limits that was smart enough not to go deeper in. She hoped so, and also hoped that the walkers weren't around. IT was deathly quiet, being out alone in what used to be a busy town. The silence was suffocating, but Allison held firm and kept cool to move through the backyards.

[Sentinel XV]

Johann looked over the three men who had volunteered. Scott Sheridan, a police officer. Kenny Fountain, a man with a bus. Haji al-Atrash, a fisherman and camper. A motley assortment of skill sets, but Johann could work with it. The bus would be a bonus, and Scott's skills with firearms would be needed. Haji could help them out with spotting for loot. All-in-all, it was a decent group; sure, Johann had hoped for a few more military-minded individuals, but he would work with what he had.

"Welcome aboard then Scott, Kenny, Haji," he said with a nod, "suit up, get ready, and meet at Kenny's bus. I plan on taking a lot of supplies and recruiting as many as we can, so it will be needed."

With that, Johann made an about face and walked towards the vehicles. He planned to take his own Ford Explorer as the point vehicle, with the tour bus following behind as a support craft. They would need to get in and out as quickly as possible, but they also needed to be able to repel any threats. As such, he had already gotten a few of his surviving Deputy Marshals to tag along. They were Earl Redford, a seasoned Marshal veteran; James Stockholm, the best damn shot this side of Detroit; and Carl McKinn, a quick and lithe man with a scout's mentality. They would accompany Johann in his Land Rover, while the others took the Tour Bus.

[Cylarn]

Scott nodded his head as Johann gave the orders. He walked over to the tour bus and climbed inside. He then checked to see if his pants were still tucked into his boots before taking a seat near the entrance. He waited for the others to get aboard, resting his shotgun on his lap.

[Nexeria]

"Remain calm," he said. "Help will be on the way, over."

"Holy shit, Scott, those people?! Do you know where they are?! C'mon get your weapons and get in the bus!"

Kenny grabbed his bat and Glock 20 before starting the bus.

"C'mon get in! Oh, and by the way the bathroom is locked shut. I don't know what's in there."

[SSTxReaper]

Scott's walkie talkie crackled with the sounds of life. He proceeded to reply.

"Repeat, over," he said. "Static's bad on your end, over."

"Hello! Who is this? What's your situation?" Yoni said.

He looked outside once again and saw one Walker. He put his Gewehr on the windowsill and set down the bipod. He aimed through the scope at the head of the Walker.

*bang*

He fired one shot, silenced so no attention would be brought, into the head and killed the Walker. He brought back the Gewehr and walked around the attic.

"I need some help with ammuniton down here. I'm running low and I have no transportation." he said,

Hearing something over his walkie talkie Li responded back. "Hello?" And like before nothing but static came back. Li decided to go back up onto the roof to see if it would improve his signal.

"Hello? This is Li Chan from the SWAT unit. Im at Ann Arbor Police Station. Come in over."

Li waited for a response...

[Camicon]

I awoke with a sleepy groan. It was with trepidation that I moved my legs, my arms, trying to work out the cold stiffness that had set in overnight. Rubbing my eyes blearily, I stifled back a yawn with a clenched fist. Sure, I was still young, but trying to sleep upright, perched twenty-feet above the ground in the branches of a tree, practically guaranteed a bad night's sleep, age notwithstanding. Ten minutes after struggling to wake myself, I dropped slowly downwards, testing the strength of each ladder-like branch before committing my full weight to it. I'd climbed trees when I was younger, and knew full-well how vengeful the bastards could be if you weren't careful about how you climbed them.

The tree had been a lucky find. Only getting out of Flint around midday, I knew that I wouldn't be able to make Ann Arbor in the same day. Being on my own, with nobody to stand watch while I slept, I knew proper shelter would be imperative. The tree, which I'd spotted just as the sun was going down, a little bit south of Brighton, had been perfect. Deciduous, with neatly spaced branches full of golden-brown leaves. As high up as I'd climbed, I'd not only given myself a large buffer zone from any walkers that might find me, but I'd also hidden myself from the view of any other people that might wander by whilst I was asleep.

Once on the ground, I felt the full force of the morning cold. With a shiver I zipped up my hoodie, and above that my leather coat. I also traded my woolen mitts for a pair of Cutters, and put a toque on. Sipping a bottle of water, I took a quick stock of my supplies. I'd hold off on eating anything till I reached Arbor. Hopefully I'd find something edible there, and wouldn't have to dip into my reserve supplies. Hitching my backpack securely around my shoulders, I shouldered my crowbar and started following the I-23 southbound, towards Ann Arbor. Once I was there, if it wasn't particularly infested (unlike Flint or Brighton), I'd spend a few days looking around for some sort of transportation. Preferably a bicycle. Having to worry about gas while traveling was not something I wanted to deal with.

[Dilange]

"Hello! Who is this? What's your situation?" Yoni said.

He looked outside once again and saw one Walker. He put his Gewehr on the windowsill and set down the bipod. He aimed through the scope at the head of the Walker.

*bang*

He fired one shot, silenced so no attention would be brought, into the head and killed the Walker. He brought back the Gewehr and walked around the attic.

"I need some help with ammuniton down here. I'm running low and I have no transportation." he said,

Hearing something over his walkie talkie Li responded back. "Hello?" And like before nothing but static came back. Li decided to go back up onto the roof to see if it would improve his signal.

"Hello? This is Li Chan from the SWAT unit. Im at Ann Arbor Police Station. Come in over."

Li waited for a response...

Yoni hear this Li over his walkie-talkie.

"Hello, Li Chan. My name is Yoni. I am out in the Chelsea State Game Area in my house. I am running low on ammunition. I have little to no walkers out in this area. I need some help. Please state your situation." Yoni said.

[Lancearc]

Nick couldn't sleep like he had wanted to. The sounds of shuffling feet, moans of the undead, the now dying out screams of agony from the human beings he was supposed to save, and sometimes a roar, sound if teeth sinking into flesh or organs,cand hands if the dead cracking a bone would rouse him from his sleep whenever he drifted into a light slumber, but what really got his attention was when a voice came from the patient he'd just killed. He raised his weapon to defend himself at first, but he then saw it wasn't coming from the body, but a device on his hip he identified as a walkie-talkie, his patient was a security guard, which he'd failed to notice before. He scrambled over the bed, grabbing true device.

"Hello?!" was his first response, to make sure he waning going insane.

[Dilange]

Nick couldn't sleep like he had wanted to. The sounds of shuffling feet, moans of the undead, the now dying out screams of agony from the human beings he was supposed to save, and sometimes a roar, sound if teeth sinking into flesh or organs,cand hands if the dead cracking a bone would rouse him from his sleep whenever he drifted into a light slumber, but what really got his attention was when a voice came from the patient he'd just killed. He raised his weapon to defend himself at first, but he then saw it wasn't coming from the body, but a device on his hip he identified as a walkie-talkie, his patient was a security guard, which he'd failed to notice before. He scrambled over the bed, grabbing true device.

"Hello?!" was his first response, to make sure he waning going insane.

Yoni now heard a new voice than the first three. He decided to answer this one as well.

"Hello there. How ya doing?" he answered in a whimsical tone.