The Walking Dead: False Paradise / Episode 5 [IC - OPEN]

[Nexeria]

Kenny/Zoe
The Compound: Kenny's Cabin

As surprised as Kenneth was to see Thomas out of the hospital, he was even more shocked to hear that there was a blood trail leading directly to his house. Glancing towards Scott with a widened wild-eyed glare, he nervously exclaimed, "A trail?! There's a goddamn blood trail out there?! Fuck! We gotta do something, man! No... no, I can't make you guys do this. I have to do something. Shelton just left for that meeting with Stryker's group, which means he won't be aware of what happened to the Barkley's until he gets back. So, right now, I have no idea who's in charge or if they've even issued a manhunt yet. For all I know, they could be looking for me right now!"

"I really don't wanna say this, but... I think for Zoe and you all to be safe... I need to leave."

"What?" Zoe asked, bewildered and confused, as she looked up at Kenny.

[Atanatos]

Jacob King stood on top of the hill surveying the land below. It had been a few weeks since they saw the plane pass over. He glanced over to his son, James. James gripped the bow tightly. Jacob saw the white of his knuckles. Jacob knew James was a little nervous. They hadn't seen the "dead" recently, and weren't sure when they'd find more.
He stared out on the land, looking for any thing that could help them. The jeeps was low on gas, and if they didnt find any soon they'd have to abandone it, not knowing when they'd find another.

Something caught Jacobs attention, an gray building, with a fence surrounding it.
"James, I think we found the Donaldson National Guard Base," he said excitedly.
James glanced where his dad was pointing, "I think your right."
"They have a fence and probably food and more importantly guns," Jacob glanced in the bag, only 6 .22 caliber rounds, he still had a handgun but, and if surrounded by the dead, it might get ugly.
"We'll go back to the jeep and drive it to the base, we should have enough gas. He slung the rifle over his shoulder and James picked up his backpack. Jacob was excited about the possibility of supplies, and maybe finding more survivors.

[Tiltjuice]

"Bite me, you've probably never heard of it." Gerry spat back, although he was certain that being snarky might not be the best thing to be at the moment. "My last name is Johnson and I come from up north." he answered a bit more helpfully. The last thing he needed was to piss these people off, anymore than he already had. Being a little more cautious, he tried to stay calm. "Why don't you just let me go? All of my stuff is in the car, I've never seen you before a day in my life, there'd be no point in killing me."

"If you're looking for shelter," Gabrielle said, still sounding vaguely stoned, "follow me." She made to head back to the Compound, but only made it a few paces before the swimming in her stomach got to her. Dropping to her knees so the other two wouldn't see, she threw up, spitting into the snow when she was done.

"I...might need a little help getting back," she said over her shoulder to Gerry. "Do you mind?"

[Torrocca]

The Long Walk

James slowed his trek through the wooded area, leaning against the tree to catch his breath.

"God... fucking... damnit..." he muttered between breaths, slinging his rifle over his shoulder as he did so.

Sighing, he said, "that kid's a fucking moron... and he has half the stuff we got. Shit."

He glanced back over his shoulder. No walkers were in sight, but he knew a number of them were still out there, probably following the path he took off running on.

"No use going back now," he said, shaking his head and turning back.

Without another word, he simply continued on towards the compound, or at least the general direction of the compound. If he was lucky, he'd run into it without a problem. If not, he'd just look for the nearest car to wait the night out in and continue looking. The entire forest was eerily silent; no chirping of the birds, no wind blowing in the trees, nothing but the crushing of leaves beneath the man's feet. It was about then that he remembered that he'd left the map with his deceased companion, and cursed his foolishness under his breath.

"How the hell am I going to explain what happened to that moron when I get back?" he asked himself, pausing and popping open a bottle of water he'd brought along. "They'll probably think either I killed him in cold blood, or some other asshole got him. No way will they believe a walker ambushed him like that. Idiot should'a looked," he mumbled angrily, downing half the bottle as he talked.

He placed the bottle back into the bag, zipped it up, and continued on towards his destination.

[Atanatos]

Jacob and James up in the jeep, pulling to a stop in front of the National Guard base. Jacob tensely grabbed his rifle, James strung an arrow. They looked around. The base was wierdly diserted. Jacob walked up to the gate and took out his pistol. He pointed it at the lock and was about to shoot the lock when James grabbed him.
"Save the bullet, I'll handle this."
Pulling out a multi tool he snipped through the fence and created a small hole for the pair to slip through.
"Stay close, we don't know if they are around"
Theh walked into the base towards the main door, they pushed the door open and made their way into the building, and pulled out a flashlight. The dark halls were illuminated only by the single flashlight. Ahead their was a figure, it looked ragged, shuffling across the floor.
Jacob pulled up his rifle and fired a single shot. The shot hit home and the walker fell to the floor. They moved though the base and didn't find another walker. It was if people had just left. They found the mess hall, still had plenty of food, another door opened up to an armory, most of the guns were taken but there were still a few and some body armor. Finnaly they reached the command center. Computers lined the walls. Their was a desk in the middle, a cup that still had coffee in it sat in the desk, with a printed out order. All reserve troops are to be moved to safe zone at @$$@&enejeoeosk. The coordinates had been encrypted. Jacob said, "James, do you know what this means" as he pointed to the slip of paper, not waiting for a response," it means that their is a safe place, we just need to find it."

[Saragrossa]

Zhang,
On route to Tennessee
Mobile, on Truck via 24 Freeway

---

A massive searing pain erupted from her temples and through out her body and in a moment, Zhang went from giddy mood to darkness.

Her ears erupted in seering pain and ringing before her vision went to black and she felt her body transcend and almost fly.

---

She emerged from her inpromtu slumber in a very disoriented, dazed and weakened state. Her ears were ringing and her vision was completely faded and she was nauseous and had seething pain running across her back. She was lying in a small pool of blood and she took a moment to catch her breath before a massive thud sound hit her senses. The sound of a herd of Jiangshi " zombie " had descended upon her.

It took her afew minutes to catch her breath and for her to relax before Zhang could react to anything.

---

Three hours previously, she was in an armored school bus with afew survivors heading to Tennessee. She chose not to flee with the other survivors since she was still wounded from being shot and didn't trust them entirely and she pretty much fended for herself. After run ins with a group of cannibals who took her because of her medical skills. She flocked group to group, shelter to shelter and found a sanctuary in Fort Knox in Kentucky however the short story is that an internal strife amongst the camp and various bandits erupted and caused a crack in the defenses and they were overwhelmed then the demons finished off the camp and she fled with a ragtag team of survivors, mostly women, child and a few military guards. They were heading towards Tennessee which Zhang Fei hoped her older friends were alive until about three hours ago when traveling on the 24, they hit an anti-vehicle mine.

It was a small yield device, mostly anti-personal but it smashed the wheel and suspension on the truck and caused it to roll over, sending its occupants through out the vehicle.

Hence the sudden rush of pain and knock out of Zhang. Now, with most of the truck's crew either killed, maimed or knocked out and a horde of walkers overwhelming and smashing the exposed below latch of the vehicle, it was clear that the truck only had a matter of time before it was overwhelmed.

---

After several minutes of composure, Zhang pulled herself up. She grabbed her two duffel bags and slapped them across her back and quickly grabbed a water and ration bag that was in the bag that was earmarked for the journey. She saw several bodies thrown together as two of the school seats broke off and impaled a guard and a child while another seat crushed two women. The rest of the people in the truck were knocked out or wounded with various defensive measures such as poles and reenforced windows turned against them.

Zhang could feel shards of metal and glass in her left shoulder so she grabbed a handful of painkillers and downed them quickly. She saw a pistol shewn on the ground and she grabbed it and disarmed the dead guard who had half a clip on him and a loaded magazine in the pistol.

She wasn't a fan of firearms due to the noise they attracted but she had nothing else as a last resort and she grabbed a 36 inch metal titanium crowbar and used it to pry the window open. The car rolled over and left passenger side was directly on the ground so this allowed the emergency exit on the bottom, completely exposed and it was only section not reenforced however she knew it was going to be a matter of minutes before the hordes sheer weigh could cause it to collapse. There was already maybe 10 or 20 walkers around the vehicle with another 20 or 30 making the journey over.

After a moment of prying the window open, she broke it open with the crowbar. Shards hit her but she disregarded it. She decided that she needed a distraction and a cruel thought came to her head.

---

She quickly opened the window and placed her gear on the top of the vehicle. She saw that if she jumped off the bus's top and unto another car then took out afew zombies then fled she would be safe.

She needed an distraction so she raced to the emergency exit and used her crowbar to pry out the inner hinge. She wasn't that strong with her left arm being disabled. She threw her weigh into it and she heard the lock snap. She kicked the door open and quickly raced to the window she opened.

What transpired was a bloodbath as a flood of walkers poured into the school bus and sunk their teeth into their long awaited meal. There was sounds of muffled screams but Zhang knew she had to escape.

Sooner or later the dead ones would reanimate in her bus and she would be screwed. She quickly climbed out of the truck and grabbed her gear and threw herself at another car, clipping a walker with her shoe as she leapt.

She quickly regained her form and flung her crowbar at the head of one walker and completely battered it before reaching down and lifting the crowbar from the skull of the now crushed walker. She quickly jabbed the rounded end of the crowbar through the eye socket of another zombie, rendering it killed before grabbing her stuff and limping away.

---

It was nearly two hours of walking and running and power walking as she remained on the highway before she saw a clear and unobstructed road path and she descended upon it. She saw an immobilized Armored personal carrier what was abandoned so she decided to climb the vehicle and inspect her arm. This was the first breath or pause she had since the school-bus and she quickly discovered that she had 5 inch laceration with two pieces of glass protruding out of it.

She quickly took out a clear water bottle which she wrote alcohol and disinfected her hand and her shoulder. She screamed in pain before getting a pair of tongs and quickly removed and sterilized her tools. The wound she had to wrap since she couldn't sew it and she put some iodizing cream, took two antibiotics for any infection and put clean dressing on it.

She ate a granola bar and drank some water before passing out. The sheer exhaustion knocked her out on top of the APC.

[Cylarn]

-snip-

When Kenny brought over the alcohol and poured himself a glass, Scott did the same and laid himself back on the couch, sipping the beverage slowly. Hearing the approaching footsteps of Zoe and Kenny, Scott quickly ashed the joint onto the ground and put it away, just as his eyes fell upon Zoe and followed her all the way over to the fire. Scott had guessed that she was traumatized; he had responded to a similar situation during his time as a police officer, though it was an accidental discharge in the latter case. No one - save for Zoe - knew what happened, and getting the truth was going to be a dangerous task, one that - if done incorrectly - could increase the toll of the psychological damage resulting from the incident and scar Zoe for life. He gave her a slight smile as she entered the room, though he saw that she was avoiding eye contact. After Kenny spoke, Scott rose to his feet, and slowly approached Zoe, sitting down beside of her in front of the fire. He looked down at her, and just as he began to speak, the whole affair became much more complicated.

Thomas and Johnny - practically stumbling across the blood trail at the same time - entered the room, and immediately began hurtling questions about the trail of blood. Kenny seemed to be cracking under the pressure; he was great at killing walkers and aiding the team during dangerous situations, but this complex situation seemed to be a bit much for him. Scott rose to his feet, immediately flashing a stern glare across the room just after Kenny announced that he was going to leave. He wasn't about to let his friend get cast out into certain death, and while the situation seemed to be too much of a bind, it could still be solved.

"Thomas, Kenny, Johnny," he said in a calm, but stern tone of voice. "Sit down, shut up, and listen. Do y'all want to exacerbate this whole shitfest, or do y'all want to hear me out and then get to fixing this mess?"

[Nexeria]

-snip-

When Kenny brought over the alcohol and poured himself a glass, Scott did the same and laid himself back on the couch, sipping the beverage slowly. Hearing the approaching footsteps of Zoe and Kenny, Scott quickly ashed the joint onto the ground and put it away, just as his eyes fell upon Zoe and followed her all the way over to the fire. Scott had guessed that she was traumatized; he had responded to a similar situation during his time as a police officer, though it was an accidental discharge in the latter case. No one - save for Zoe - knew what happened, and getting the truth was going to be a dangerous task, one that - if done incorrectly - could increase the toll of the psychological damage resulting from the incident and scar Zoe for life. He gave her a slight smile as she entered the room, though he saw that she was avoiding eye contact. After Kenny spoke, Scott rose to his feet, and slowly approached Zoe, sitting down beside of her in front of the fire. He looked down at her, and just as he began to speak, the whole affair became much more complicated.

Thomas and Johnny - practically stumbling across the blood trail at the same time - entered the room, and immediately began hurtling questions about the trail of blood. Kenny seemed to be cracking under the pressure; he was great at killing walkers and aiding the team during dangerous situations, but this complex situation seemed to be a bit much for him. Scott rose to his feet, immediately flashing a stern glare across the room just after Kenny announced that he was going to leave. He wasn't about to let his friend get cast out into certain death, and while the situation seemed to be too much of a bind, it could still be solved.

"Thomas, Kenny, Johnny," he said in a calm, but stern tone of voice. "Sit down, shut up, and listen. Do y'all want to exacerbate this whole shitfest, or do y'all want to hear me out and then get to fixing this mess?"

Kenny/Zoe
The Compound: Kenny's Cabin

Wiping his hand across his own face, Kenny obeyed Scott's command and sat back down. He then glanced at Zoe's concerned face, wondering what could possibly be going through her head, before attempting to console her, "You're gonna be alright, Zoe. We're gonna figure something out. No matter what happens, we're gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay."

Zoe simply looked back at Kenny as a sick, uneasy feeling began brewing inside her. She knew that Kenny would do anything to protect her and that's exactly what worried her.

Kenny drank some more bourbon as he tried to calm himself down. Looking back at Scott, Kenny said, "Okay... okay. I'm listening."

[Altito Asmoro]

Francois
The Church

Francois wandering around inside the Church, looking for something to do. Boarding the windows with wooden boards, for stronger protection against the...the undead. The risen bodies. Infecteds. Whatever it's called, then. Boarding the windows and cooking in the kitchen (if it can be called as cooking and if the place can be called as the kitchen). He guessed it can, but with what cooking utensils he can found, frankly it will be more or less just simple cooking. Soup, with bread (if any). His police car, had been given to Stryker, for whatever purpose better.

Perhaps there are weapons in the trunk, but he never looked there.

[Nexeria]

Francois
The Church

Francois wandering around inside the Church, looking for something to do. Boarding the windows with wooden boards, for stronger protection against the...the undead. The risen bodies. Infecteds. Whatever it's called, then. Boarding the windows and cooking in the kitchen (if it can be called as cooking and if the place can be called as the kitchen). He guessed it can, but with what cooking utensils he can found, frankly it will be more or less just simple cooking. Soup, with bread (if any). His police car, had been given to Stryker, for whatever purpose better.

Perhaps there are weapons in the trunk, but he never looked there.

Damian Glass
The Church

After awaking from a brief nap, Damian wandered around the church from window to window making sure all the boards were nailed properly in place. He didn't expect the dead to make it past the barricade outside, but it was nice to have an extra layer of defense if needed. Having been a member of Stryker's group for about two months now, Damian understood fully understood the precarious situation the group was in. Ever since that asshole, Shelton, killed Billy back at the airport, the group has been on edge worrying whether or not the peace treaty between the Compound and the Church is a good idea.

Damian began to wonder just how long Stryker planned on staying at the church. It's not like the place is a fortress or for that matter worth defending. A large horde of the restless dead could easily tear this place apart, but then again the church seemed pretty isolated.

Spotting the cook, Francois, standing off on his own, Damian approached the man and asked, "Hey, Francois, you cook up any grub?"

[United World Order]

Johnny shot a frown at Scott after what he said but sat down caressing his hair with his hand as he looked at the floor waiting for Scott to explain what was going on and how it was going to be fixed. Johnny slipped his .44 Magnum back into it's holster as he sat on the couch listening to the conversation at hand.

[Saragrossa]

Zhang,
On route to Nashville
On top of an Armored Personal Carrier

---

Rough morning, good Zhang was a heavy sleeper and didn't move. A good roll and she would be walker bait. She had awaken to see she was surrounded by a group of walkers. She signed and opened up a water bottle, hydrated and ate another high protein granola bar. She decided to make a jump from the APC to another truck and basically work her way up the vehicles then basically completely dodge the walkers until she got to the end of a truck and she would use the ladder to slide down a highway column then make her way on foot.

It took a hour or so but she managed to crafty dodge all the walkers and make her way against the highway 24 Towards Tennessee. She was getting tired, the rough night, lack of proper food and water had taken its toll on her and her body was still healing from her car accident. She decided to make camp somewhere up a tree and harness herself in for tonight.

As she was walking she heard noises in the bushes and much to her surprise she saw two men approach her. They were clearly dressed as Bandits so Zhang quickly rolled and pulled out her pistol.

She fired one shot just before she rolled and she clipped a man brandishing a machete on the ground and he quickly to his knees, clenching his neck while the second man had a hunting rifle and returned fire.

---

Zhang figured the landmine explosion was loud enough for anyone and everyone near by ( hence the walkers ) to hear and now the bandits would come to investigate and loot if possible. Zhang knew she had at most, three bullets plus the one already in the chamber she spent. She took immediate cover behind a car and just counted the rounds the man fired. He emptied out 5 rounds from his .22 hunting rifle before Zhang proned over and exchanged another round which didn't hit him but came close.

The man instantly returned another five rounds at her before Zhang fired another well taken, well placed shot at his abdomen and the man fell to his knees lifeless wiped out in a blood of pool.

Zhang quickly seized the initiative and holstered the pistol behind her pants and she grabbed her crowbar and quickly ran up to bash the men's head and to her shocking discovery, it was an old man and possibly a young adult, his grandchild.

Zhang took a moment as this hit her very hard. She fell to her knees and almost cried as guilt began to way on her. She heard the all so familiar sound of walkers and she knew she had to move.

The Grandfather actually had a BB gun and the rounds were useless. They had two half water bottles, a apple and some beef jerky. She grabbed what she could and the child's machete and quickly resumed her walk to Tennessee.

[Transoxthraxia]

Madison

---

It had been awhile since she had arrived at the Church. She'd been put in what appeared to be a prison, or some other sort of holding pen, for processing, after they had disarmed her. Barely anybody had said anything to her at all. No explanation, no greetings, friendly or otherwise. She had just been kind-of stuck in the pens and forgotten, as if some toy from a child's epitaph. She had awoken from some sort of slumber, when the shakes hit her once more. In withdrawal, you didn't know how much time passed; it seemed as if you were stuck in infinitude, as if the cogs of time were grinding to a sheer halt, but only for you. Vision blurred, and the hours on a clock seemed to meld together as ants crawled under your skin, and the red specter of pure, unreasonable rage surged through your veins for whole minutes at a time. The withdrawal never went away. Madison could always feel it, as if a person who played in the sand could slowly feel the tide ebbing towards them as low became high. High. "What I wouldn't do for just the smallest taste right now..." The broken woman said. She had curled up into a corner of the room, her knees brought up to her chest. In the dim light she swore that shadows moved and formed great beasts, monsters that fought with one another over a prize: Madison's soul. Biting her fingernails, she went systematically from her thumb to her pinky, and then back again. She counted them as she went along. It was the only way, she found, to surmount her cravings.

A shadow moved in her periphery, and she nearly screamed out. She shut her eyes tightly, and brought her knees closer to her chest, wanting nothing but something, or someone, to lash out upon. She began holding her breath, and, like the predictable evil it was, the crawling, the rage, and the hallucinations began to ebb once more. She took a deep breath, and then opened her eyes. As she once more got them to focus in the darkness, she was able to breathe easily once more. She tried to examine her surroundings, but she couldn't. How long had she been asleep; awake? In a dream-like state? She remembered that she could move and feel in her dreams, but often when she believed she was dreaming, she was simply experiencing withdrawal once more in a conscious state. But now that was of little importance. She was hungry, thirsty, and shivering. She stood up, slowly, leaning against the wall to gain her bearings. She blinked twice more, in order to solidify her vision, before taking a tentative step forward. Her boot made a scraping noise on the wood, and she froze. But no response came. She slowly came to the door that would lead to the rest of the Church. She put a single ear to it, walking as slowly and quietly as she could; as she had done in the past to survive. There were people, certainly, but it sounded civilized; peaceful. She tried the handle. Surprisingly, it wasn't locked. Turning it all the way, she slowly opened the door, which lit up her silhouette against the dim light of the holding room. She took a few steps forward, into the main body of the Church.

[Altito Asmoro]

Francois
The Church

Francois wandering around inside the Church, looking for something to do. Boarding the windows with wooden boards, for stronger protection against the...the undead. The risen bodies. Infecteds. Whatever it's called, then. Boarding the windows and cooking in the kitchen (if it can be called as cooking and if the place can be called as the kitchen). He guessed it can, but with what cooking utensils he can found, frankly it will be more or less just simple cooking. Soup, with bread (if any). His police car, had been given to Stryker, for whatever purpose better.

Perhaps there are weapons in the trunk, but he never looked there.

Damian Glass
The Church

After awaking from a brief nap, Damian wandered around the church from window to window making sure all the boards were nailed properly in place. He didn't expect the dead to make it past the barricade outside, but it was nice to have an extra layer of defense if needed. Having been a member of Stryker's group for about two months now, Damian understood fully understood the precarious situation the group was in. Ever since that asshole, Shelton, killed Billy back at the airport, the group has been on edge worrying whether or not the peace treaty between the Compound and the Church is a good idea.

Damian began to wonder just how long Stryker planned on staying at the church. It's not like the place is a fortress or for that matter worth defending. A large horde of the restless dead could easily tear this place apart, but then again the church seemed pretty isolated.

Spotting the cook, Francois, standing off on his own, Damian approached the man and asked, "Hey, Francois, you cook up any grub?"

Francois has started to looked up at the kitchen's food supplies when Damian called on him. Damian has been in the group for months, he believed. Every single people in the Church knew exactly that his cooked food is better than the other people can cook, though. But then again, with what he has now in the food supplies, it's more or less just mix and match, and heating up food. Apart from Emily's cooking abilities, though.

Francois turned his head to Damian.
"Food? Got some hot soup here and couple of bread. There are canned tuna as well. You want me to cooked it up?"

[Stormhound]

Gerry grinned and glanced at Gabrielle. "Why thank you, ma'am, God bless you." he glanced back at the pink haired girl and his grateful expression disappeared and gave way to a sneer. "Good to see that some people still read the good book." he was about to make a snide comment about her hair before the kind woman fell to her knees and threw up. He couldn't see it, but he was rather grateful for that.

When she requested help, he immediately leaned down and offered up his arm. "I don't mind," he said, trying his best to be gentle to the woman. It had been a long time since Gerry had met a truly compassionate person, barring the reverend at his prison. "Just take my arm and give me the directions."

[Monfrox]

"What the fuck's that supposed ta mean? Huh?" Allison snapped back. She was, in fact, a Lutheran as far as religion went. She didn't like being thought of as someone without a faith. She looked over when Gabrielle went down, but a sudden rustling of the bushes in the other direction cause her to swing back with her rifle up. After a few moments of nothing else, she went over to where Gerry was helping Gabrielle up. "I'll be right back. Thought I heard something over there and I don't like surprises." She turned to glare at Gerry. "I'll only be a few minutes before I catch back up. If anything happens to her, I will kill you. Plain and simple. Now get going. Compound's that way, last I checked." She pointed off into the distance.

After making her point evidently crystal clear, she turned around and walked off towards where she heard the noise. A few feet turned into a few more feet as she went in further, but she didn't see anything. She stopped and peered into the woods for a good fifteen seconds and saw nothing. At the point when she was just about to tun around and head back, she felt a dull pain in her collarbone as one of her pressure points being pinched. She tried in vain to get away, but her body was already getting weak and in a few seconds she dropped to the cold ground and passed out.

[Nexeria]

Damian Glass
The Church

"Ah, don't trouble yourself with it. I'll just take the bread," Damian responded in his low gravelly voice, taking two slices of bread, as he eyed over the old cook. Francois had been with group for a short while. Damian still didn't know much about the man's past, but he seemed like a nice enough and even better cook. Well, he was not necessarily a great cook, but his food was better than anything Damian had tasted in a long time.

As Damian walked away, he noticed a door open out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly, a stranger emerged from the opening, a short black-haired woman that appeared to be quite thin. Confused, Damian approached the stranger cautiously as his right hand grazed over his Beretta stored in a leather holster hanging around his hip. Remembering that she and another stranger were lead into the back room earlier simply to get them out of Stryker's hair, Damian calmly asked the woman to identify herself, "I don't recognize you. Who are you and where are you from?"

[Transoxthraxia]

Madison, The Church.

As Madison opened the door, she heard a bit of commotion, but as the door swung open and she peered into the main room of the Church, quite a bit of it fell silent. A man, who she didn’t recognized, seemed a bit nervous, but determined. This was Damian Glass, but she didn’t know that yet. He asked her to identify herself as his hand brushed what appeared to be a holstered Glock. Her heart began to race, it felt that, with every palpitation, it seemed that it wanted to escape her chest cavity. “P-Please…” She stuttered, weakly. “Please don’t shoot.” She said. Only a part of her aesthetically weakened state was acting. She was exhausted, scared. “I’m Madison. I-I came here from the north.” She lied. In case any of these guys were related to the gangbangers that she had to rid herself of not too far back. “I’m starving… Please don’t shoot.” She repeated in a shaky, stuttering voice.

[Torrocca]

Trekking on

Winters cautiously continued his walk through what he considered to be nothing more than hostile territory, watching each and every tree as he moved. The entire forest remained as silent as the dead, which left him with some much needed relief, but also a massive sense of dread and fear, as if something, or someone, was watching him. It couldn't be the dead walking, as they were never silent; living, breathing predators, however, absolutely were. Silent, cautious, and observant, they'd be watching for an opening to strike. He paused to listen for movement, of which there was none, before resuming on. In the distance, through the brush, he caught sight of darkened stone.

It was a road, showing signs of civilization. What better, a house stood, covered in greenery, just across the street, showing he was near the remnants of civilization. He figured quickly exploring the house wouldn't hurt much, but first he took off to figure out the name of the street. If it were familiar enough, he'd know exactly where he was. He'd ran in the direction of the gunfire from before his own, and the house was in the general direction, making him assume he was headed towards something human. For now, he disregarded this, as there were a few corpses ahead, struggling to stand. He wandered to them, quickly dispatching them with the bayonet fixed on his rifle.

As he approached the last, he found the sign indicating the name of the street, as well as the one that intersected it; they were streets from the neighborhood he and his friend Kenny scavenged through some time ago. Without hesitation, he went right, and followed the street all the way to the house they nearly died at. It remained eerily silent on his walk; the monsters that hungered for their flesh from before were long gone, minus the few corpses and rotted crawlers scattered about. He ignored them, and continued following the road back to the compound, silently praising his God for helping him on his journey.

[Nexeria]

Madison, The Church.

As Madison opened the door, she heard a bit of commotion, but as the door swung open and she peered into the main room of the Church, quite a bit of it fell silent. A man, who she didn’t recognized, seemed a bit nervous, but determined. This was Damian Glass, but she didn’t know that yet. He asked her to identify herself as his hand brushed what appeared to be a holstered Glock. Her heart began to race, it felt that, with every palpitation, it seemed that it wanted to escape her chest cavity. “P-Please…” She stuttered, weakly. “Please don’t shoot.” She said. Only a part of her aesthetically weakened state was acting. She was exhausted, scared. “I’m Madison. I-I came here from the north.” She lied. In case any of these guys were related to the gangbangers that she had to rid herself of not too far back. “I’m starving… Please don’t shoot.” She repeated in a shaky, stuttering voice.

Damian Glass
The Church

By the sound of Madison's voice, Damian could tell that she was afraid. She appeared to be in a physically weak state as well. Feeling a bit sorry for the girl, Damian offered her a slice of bread, "Here, you should eat this."

Glancing back at Francois, Damian asked, "Hey, Chef, why don't you cook up our guest something nice. She looks like she's had a rough week. If anyone complains about the rationing then just take it out of my share," Damian knew that some members of the group might not take too kindly of sharing food with strangers, but he figured he could smooth it over with Stryker if anyone threw a tantrum.

As they awaited Francois to bring some food over, Damian began conversing with Madison, "Relax, Miss, nobody's gonna hurt as long as you don't hurt us. So, your name's Madison? I once had a girlfriend named Madison. She was a downright bitch, but, damn, was she beautiful. Anyways, you don't look so well. Mind if I ask what happened to you?"

[Transoxthraxia]

Madison, The Church.

As Madison opened the door, she heard a bit of commotion, but as the door swung open and she peered into the main room of the Church, quite a bit of it fell silent. A man, who she didn’t recognized, seemed a bit nervous, but determined. This was Damian Glass, but she didn’t know that yet. He asked her to identify herself as his hand brushed what appeared to be a holstered Glock. Her heart began to race, it felt that, with every palpitation, it seemed that it wanted to escape her chest cavity. “P-Please…” She stuttered, weakly. “Please don’t shoot.” She said. Only a part of her aesthetically weakened state was acting. She was exhausted, scared. “I’m Madison. I-I came here from the north.” She lied. In case any of these guys were related to the gangbangers that she had to rid herself of not too far back. “I’m starving… Please don’t shoot.” She repeated in a shaky, stuttering voice.

Damian Glass
The Church

By the sound of Madison's voice, Damian could tell that she was afraid. She appeared to be in a physically weak state as well. Feeling a bit sorry for the girl, Damian offered her a slice of bread, "Here, you should eat this."

Glancing back at Francois, Damian asked, "Hey, Chef, why don't you cook up our guest something nice. She looks like she's had a rough week. If anyone complains about the rationing then just take it out of my share," Damian knew that some members of the group might not take too kindly of sharing food with strangers, but he figured he could smooth it over with Stryker if anyone threw a tantrum.

As they awaited Francois to bring some food over, Damian began conversing with Madison, "Relax, Miss, nobody's gonna hurt as long as you don't hurt us. So, your name's Madison? I once had a girlfriend named Madison. She was a downright bitch, but, damn, was she beautiful. Anyways, you don't look so well. Mind if I ask what happened to you?"

Taking the piece of bread tentatively, as if it was perhaps poisoned, she sniffed it once, and then twice. Not smelling anything, she mentally shrugged; if they wanted to kill her, they would have shot her already. She took a bite out of it, and chewed slowly. It tasted good. A lot better than burnt squirrel. She took a second bite, and then a third. Before anything else happened, she devoured the slice, the last bits disappearing into her mouth not ten seconds after it had been handed to her. She smiled a tight-lipped smile before listening to Damian.

As she heard the man speak, she leaned up against the wall, and began chewing her fingernails. "No, not to well, sir." She answered him. The "sir" was an innate response to anyone she viewed as a superior - she had been brought up in a private school in the South, after all. "Things aren't too good up North. My friends and I-" She paused to chew a bit of her fingernail, before reaching up to dislodge some of the leftover bread from her teeth, revealing that one of her Lateral Incisors was missing. "We come from Canada, but, well, we came down here because we thought there might be more help, what, you people and your guns." She smiled once more at her poor attempt at humour. "They just, ah, well they didn't, you know, make it. I kinda... I kinda let one die." She said, surprisingly lacking remorse. She didn't meet Damian's gaze, partially because she did feel guilty with what happened to her friends, but partially because she was lying. "I've never been to Tennessee before, or, honestly, much of this country, so I didn't know where I was going. I honestly don't think that I would've lasted a single more week out there." Her faint British accent was beginning to come out. Aside from her name, that was probably one of the first true things she'd told Damian.

[Nexeria]

Damian Glass
The Church

By the sound of Madison's voice, Damian could tell that she was afraid. She appeared to be in a physically weak state as well. Feeling a bit sorry for the girl, Damian offered her a slice of bread, "Here, you should eat this."

Glancing back at Francois, Damian asked, "Hey, Chef, why don't you cook up our guest something nice. She looks like she's had a rough week. If anyone complains about the rationing then just take it out of my share," Damian knew that some members of the group might not take too kindly of sharing food with strangers, but he figured he could smooth it over with Stryker if anyone threw a tantrum.

As they awaited Francois to bring some food over, Damian began conversing with Madison, "Relax, Miss, nobody's gonna hurt as long as you don't hurt us. So, your name's Madison? I once had a girlfriend named Madison. She was a downright bitch, but, damn, was she beautiful. Anyways, you don't look so well. Mind if I ask what happened to you?"

Taking the piece of bread tentatively, as if it was perhaps poisoned, she sniffed it once, and then twice. Not smelling anything, she mentally shrugged; if they wanted to kill her, they would have shot her already. She took a bite out of it, and chewed slowly. It tasted good. A lot better than burnt squirrel. She took a second bite, and then a third. Before anything else happened, she devoured the slice, the last bits disappearing into her mouth not ten seconds after it had been handed to her. She smiled a tight-lipped smile before listening to Damian.

As she heard the man speak, she leaned up against the wall, and began chewing her fingernails. "No, not to well, sir." She answered him. The "sir" was an innate response to anyone she viewed as a superior - she had been brought up in a private school in the South, after all. "Things aren't too good up North. My friends and I-" She paused to chew a bit of her fingernail, before reaching up to dislodge some of the leftover bread from her teeth, revealing that one of her Lateral Incisors was missing. "We come from Canada, but, well, we came down here because we thought there might be more help, what, you people and your guns." She smiled once more at her poor attempt at humour. "They just, ah, well they didn't, you know, make it. I kinda... I kinda let one die." She said, surprisingly lacking remorse. She didn't meet Damian's gaze, partially because she did feel guilty with what happened to her friends, but partially because she was lying. "I've never been to Tennessee before, or, honestly, much of this country, so I didn't know where I was going. I honestly don't think that I would've lasted a single more week out there." Her faint British accent was beginning to come out. Aside from her name, that was probably one of the first true things she'd told Damian.

Damian Glass
The Church

Listening closely to Madison's story, Damian noticed that she was missing a tooth. He decided not to bring it up right away and waited for her to finish her story. Once she was done revealing her past to Damian, he decided to introduce himself and fill her in on a few things, "Well, there's no need call me sir. Personally, I'd prefer it if you didn't. I'm no more important than you or anyone else. My name's Damian Glass, but you can just call me Damian. I help run things around here."

"I should probably tell you about some of the people living here. The cook over there is Francois. The guy who's been making most of the decisions lately is Stryker. I don't know if that's his real name, but I don't really care. You'll know him by the scar on his left eyebrow. There's also Jess. she's kind of gotta punk-rock thing going if you know what I mean. If you see a big guy with a beret that's Grimm. You'll most likely see Grimm with a younger guy following him around and that would be Lyle. Then there's Esmore. He's the black guy that likes to smoke newports. Everyone else you'll just have to ask them yourself."

"Now, I know you said you let someone die, but I don't really care. I mean, I didn't know 'em and I'm sure you had your reasons. Although, I should make it clear that loyalty in this group is important. If you decide to stick around, I would hope that you try to pull your weight around here, and you don't look like you weigh that much, so I doubt it be too hard for you to handle."

After explaining everything, Damian decided to ask about her tooth, "I... uh... noticed you were missing a tooth. Somebody hit you?"

[Verkaria]

Stryker
The Church

In the parking lot of the Church, between two husks of somethings that were probably once a convertible and a pick-up truck, stood Lyle and Grimm over the unconscious form of Allison, whose whole frontal body, from face to shins, was covered in mud. The two had bound her hands with duck tape and sat her up against the corpse of the pick-up. Grimm was the one who had dragged her in, and Lyle was just now taking a step back to get a good look at her.

"H-hey! It's the bitch with pink hair from the cabin!" Lyle exclaimed when he realized that the person that he'd just tied up was the woman that the pair had encountered from a few days back.

"Yep," Grimm responded stoically.

"Well, why is she here?"

"Found her snooping around too close to home."

"And you just nabbed her."

"Yep."

"And she didn't struggle? Because it looks like she struggled."

"I knocked her out by squeezing a pressure point in her shoulder."

"What like Spock?"

"Who?"

"You know... Spock..."

Grimm responded with a blank stare.

"From... Star Trek..."

Lyle fell silent and became internally concerned for Grimm's understanding of old-world pop-culture references. After a few moments, Stryker came striding in, his shotgun hanging against his back from a sling. They'd radioed Stryker when they brought the woman in but he had only now found the time to come over.

"Hey," Stryker said as he approached the trio. "Who'd we drag in this time?"

"Her," Grimm replied stoically and gestured to Allison.

"Oh, now it's all clear," Stryker replied sarcastically. "Why's she here?"

"Found her snooping around too close to home," Grimm replied in his trademark monotone.

"Well, what were you doing out?"

"I was taking a walk," Grimm replied in what was most likely and obviously a lie.

"Fair enough," Stryker conceded. Stryker didn't really care what his people did on their own time.

Stryker turned back to Allison and crouched down in front of her to get a better look at her face. He grabbed a handful of semi-muddy hair and lifted her head. Stryker didn't recognize the face, but the pink hair did catch his eye.

"Pink hair," Stryker let out in suppressed awe. "Neat."

Stryker then began to pick and prod at Allison's face as if the act of doing so would give him some sort of information as to who she was and what she was doing around his base. It did not.

"Why is she covered in mud?" Stryker asked Grimm curiously.

"She fell forward when I knocked her out," Grimm answered simply.

"Hm... How'd you knock her out?" Stryker asked, his voice sounded slightly strained in the middle of his question as he stood himself back upright.

"Pinched a nerve in her shoulder."

"What like Spock?"

"That's what I said, and he doesn't know who Spock is," Lyle spoke up finally.

"You don't know who Spock is?" Stryker asked Grimm with a dumbfounded expression.

Grimm simply gave a shrug as his answer like last time.

"Stryker," Lyle said to get the large man's attention, "I think that this part of the Compound group. She-"

Stryker cut Lyle off by holding his hand up and letting out, "We'll get to that! Grimm, how the hell do you not know who fucking Spock is?!"

Grimm just looked confused as to why this mattered so much but started to defend himself nonetheless, "I-"

"Woah," Jess let out when she saw Allison's knocked-out form. The conscious trio turned to Jess as she walked up and crouched down by Allison to get a better look at her. "What happened to her?"

"I applied pressure to a certain bundle of nerves around her shoulder blade and she fell unconscious," Grimm answered almost in a medical way as if to distance himself from any sort of Vulcan-related technique.

"What like Spock?" Jess asked nonchalantly. Grimm quickly brought the palm of his hand to his forehead and the whole conversation devolved into a science-fiction-culture-fueled raging rant carried out against Grimm by Stryker.

[Altito Asmoro]

Madison, The Church.

As Madison opened the door, she heard a bit of commotion, but as the door swung open and she peered into the main room of the Church, quite a bit of it fell silent. A man, who she didn’t recognized, seemed a bit nervous, but determined. This was Damian Glass, but she didn’t know that yet. He asked her to identify herself as his hand brushed what appeared to be a holstered Glock. Her heart began to race, it felt that, with every palpitation, it seemed that it wanted to escape her chest cavity. “P-Please…” She stuttered, weakly. “Please don’t shoot.” She said. Only a part of her aesthetically weakened state was acting. She was exhausted, scared. “I’m Madison. I-I came here from the north.” She lied. In case any of these guys were related to the gangbangers that she had to rid herself of not too far back. “I’m starving… Please don’t shoot.” She repeated in a shaky, stuttering voice.

Damian Glass
The Church

By the sound of Madison's voice, Damian could tell that she was afraid. She appeared to be in a physically weak state as well. Feeling a bit sorry for the girl, Damian offered her a slice of bread, "Here, you should eat this."

Glancing back at Francois, Damian asked, "Hey, Chef, why don't you cook up our guest something nice. She looks like she's had a rough week. If anyone complains about the rationing then just take it out of my share," Damian knew that some members of the group might not take too kindly of sharing food with strangers, but he figured he could smooth it over with Stryker if anyone threw a tantrum.

As they awaited Francois to bring some food over, Damian began conversing with Madison, "Relax, Miss, nobody's gonna hurt as long as you don't hurt us. So, your name's Madison? I once had a girlfriend named Madison. She was a downright bitch, but, damn, was she beautiful. Anyways, you don't look so well. Mind if I ask what happened to you?"

Francois Serrano
The Church

Francois looked as a woman entered the church, physically weak, judging by her looks.

As she and Damian conversed, it's pretty clear that she had been in rougher times. After that had been done, Damian told him to made her food, and if anyone complains, to takes his share. Francois answered, "Sure thing, Damian. There had been a cooked tuna here. Let me take this to her," as he prepared a plate filled with quarter of the cooked tuna with cooked vegetables, a bowl of hot soup, and a glass of water.

He handed the food to the table in front of Madison, as the woman name is Madison. "Here you go, lady. Sorry if we have only these food, these days it is hard to find good food and with the harvest still takes time. Just take your time when you eat it."

[Monfrox]

The last sense to go when slipping into unconsciousness is hearing, as is the first sense to come back when waking up. Voices. Allison could hear people talking. How she got here, wherever here was, was still a mystery to her. She slowly opened her eyes after catching the tail-end of the conversation. She saw four people. "Okay..." She thought to herself, "Just don't do anything stupid. Don't give them a reason to put a bullet in your head." She studied the people looming over her. Two faces looked familiar. She tried moving her hands, but found out quickly that they were bound behind her back, and with duct tape no less. Shame. If it'd been a zip-tie, she might've been able to get out of it. For now she tried not to draw attention until they realized she was awake. One thing was for sure: Her head was pounding like a drum.