Of Zombies and Men (IC/Open)

[Ularn]

Flak turned at the sound of tapping on the window. Outside the truck a soldier in a camouflage raincoat was motioning for him to roll the window down. Flak did so.
"There's no room on the boat for vehicles right now," the soldier said. He was pale and younger than Flak, and carried a rifle just below the level of the window. Keeping one hand on the weapon grip, he pointed with the other at the pier while instructing, "Take what you can carry and make your way down to the assembly point. Okay?"
Flak nodded and rolled the window up again while the soldier moved on to the next car. It took him a minute to arrange all his tools so that they could fit in his belt and rucksack. Splitting what was left of his lunch with Sherry created a little more room to fill with some of the pieces which had belonged to Andy which Flak lacked himself. Eventually he emerged with a tuna sandwich triangle clamped in his mouth and toolbelt jingling from everything he had tried to stuff into it. A little behind he could hear a woman shouting.
"But what am I supposed to do without my car? Everything we have is in there!"
"Ma'am," the same soldier who had advised Flak and Sherry was attempting to calm her down, "We will come back for your other belongings when circumstances allow. Right now the priority is getting people to safety; that car takes up the same space as thirty warm bodies."
Flak saw the car itself was a plain looking sedan overloaded with hastily packed furniture two small faces watched what was going on through the back seat window. There was actually a flatscreen TV strapped to the roof! "But what if it gets stolen?" the woman demanded.
The soldier was clearly getting annoyed now as he snapped, "Lady, if you don't like it you can go right on and take yourself right round to Deception Pass. Maybe you can even make it there before they blow the bridge. I've got plenty of folks here who'll take your places on the boat."
The woman muttered something Flak did not hear and then began ushering her children out of the car. Both of them looked around fearfully at the other cars, the soldiers, and dozens of other frightened people making their way towards the docks. The younger girl caught Flak's eye and he tried to give her a reassuring smile before checking Sherry was ready and making their own way in the direction the soldier had pointed between the parked and empty cars. There looked to be hundreds of them parked all over the road and the verges and gardens and car parks on either side leading up to the pier.
Closer to the harbour a system of temporary fences funnelled the road into a snaking queue packed with people. There could well have been a thousand of them and more arrived behind even as he watched. Everyone looked agitated and everyone was pushing to be at the front faster. Soldiers with rifles stood guard on either side, occasionally shouting a warning when someone in the line shoved too hard or tried to hop part of the fence. At the same time another soldier with officer's tabs on his raincoat shouted instructions through a megaphone to remain calm and have any identification ready.
"Hold my hand," Flak told Sherry, worrying that he might lose her in the crowd. She was something familiar, and the looks of some of the people in the crowd worried him.
It took about half an hour to migrate to the front of the line. Flak never attempted to jump but he did have to employ elbows a couple of times when people behind were less scrupulous. One time the man trying to force his way past locked eyes with him then opened his jacket to reveal a pistol holstered under his arm. Flak backed away just enough to let the man through; he had no idea if he might be desperate enough to try using the weapon if he did not get his way.
At one point the line - which had switched back and forth like the queue for a theme park ride, was separated out into a single ten metre section patrolled on either side by soldiers holding guard dogs. Flak watched one of the dogs go stiff as he passed and then start barking at someone further down the line. Two more soldiers opened the fence and pulled out a man in a stained t-shirt and led him away out of sight.
At the front of the line were a row of tables manned by more soldiers, each one talking quietly with a civilian. White tents set up overhead provided them with a little cover from the rain. Flak could hear the exchange between the pudgy, smartly suited businessman and a dark-skinned woman whose dual chevrons identified her as a corporal:
"Full name and ID please?"
"Michael McAlister," the man replied nasally while handing over a driver's licence.
"Occupation?" the corporal asked while focused on copying something from the driver's licence onto her notepad.
Michael McAlister took a deep breath, "Assistant Regional Manager in charge of Sales and-"
"Okay thank you," the corporal cut off quickly before tearing off part of the form and writing a large number three on it in red marker. "Take this; go to the queue on the far right," she instructed, "Next?"
Flak jangled forward while Sherry went to the next desk along which had also just become available. He passed the corporal his driver's license as soon as he got to the desk.
"Name?"
"Flynn David Lachlan," Flak replied.
"You're English?" she asked, studying the pink plastic card more intently than she had the businessman's.
"Scottish," Flak corrected.
"Right," the corporal muttered, "Don't suppose you have your passport on you?"
Flak shook his head, "Left it at home. I was at work when it...when it happened."
"That's okay," the corporal assured, "We're just trying to build up a record of survivors and for foreign nationals passports are better for identification than driver's licenses."
"I've got the number memorised if that helps," Flak said, falling back into the same habits he'd developed backpacking of always being as helpful as possible to customs personnel - or anyone in uniform - as he rattled off the number.
"That's good. And occupation?"
"Tradesman's Assistant."
"What's that mean?"
Flak shrugged, "I help carpenters on building sites,"
The corporal nodded and there was actually the hint of a smile as she said, "Trades and skilled labour. That's good; we need that," and marked a number one on his form before handing it to him with his licence, "Take this and join the far left queue."
At the same time Flak heard the soldier at the next desk ask Sherry what she did for a living. "Student," she replied, "Fashion Design."
"Right hand queue please."
The slip of paper she was given had a number three on it. Flak swallowed hard as he realised they were being split up. He still had not moved from the desk.
"You two together?" asked the corporal.
"Yeah," Flak replied nervously, then for some reason added, "She's my girlfriend."
The corporal leaned over and said something to her counterpart at the next desk, who looked from Sherry and then to Flak before scribbling out Sherry's three with a scowl and replacing it with a one. "Left queue," he barked, "Both of you get moving."
The next three queues beyond the desk really looked more like holding pens open to the desk area at one end and the pier at the other, although the gates on that side were shut and guarded. Guards outside the open ends checked Flak and Sherry's papers and waved them through to the pen with a large plastic number one at its entrance. Inside he moved to a wall and sat down on his bag like several others were doing.
Queue 1 seemed to be the least full of the three pens. Queue 3 was by far the fullest, although that might have appeared so only because Queue 2 was made up of a much larger number of children. A man next to Flak in his late twenties and wearing a padded overcoat over what looked like thin teal hospital scrubs gave him a nod, "So what you in here for then?" he asked.
"Huh?" Flak replied bewilderedly.
"What's your job?" the man asked, then looked at Flak's hi-viz and his toolbelt, "Take it you're a tradesman?"
"Uh, yeah."
"Makes sense. There too many of use to fit on the ferry at once so they triage us at the desks for who gets on first. Group One's all everyone with useful skills; tradesmen, doctors and" he pointed at himself, "nurses - stuff like that. They'll load us on first. Group Two's all children and their parents; they try not to break up families or couples. Once they're on, Group 3 will fill up any leftover spaces; that's everyone else.
"By the way, don't suppose you've got any food on you?"
Flak shook his head, feeling a little guilty at having finished his sandwich earlier. He wasn't even hungry; he just needed the space in his bag. Being in the first group made him feel guilty as well; he was not a real tradesman; in builder hierarchy a TA might rank just above a first year apprentice but only if the apprentice was having a bad day. He had also lied to keep Sherry with him as well; that was another spot that maybe should have gone to someone else. Besides that, the calculated coldness of what the other guy had called 'triage' made him uncomfortable. What could have happened to the world that made builders more important than children?.
"Too bad," the nurse commented, " I was coming off a sixteen hour shift when it went down; never got a chance to get a bite to eat." He stuck his hand out to Flak. "Sam," he introduced.
[Tab="75][/Tab]"Flak," he replied, shaking the hand, "And this is Sherry,"

[Corrian]

Thea Okonedo
Thea and her parents kept on driving towards the ferries, and it was not a pleasant, nor fast process for them to do so. They had to go through some of the biggest gone to hell locations, like Everett, and getting out of their own city was hard enough as is. They had taken Highway 2, which was probably some of the harder areas, because, besides the last bit of it, it wasn't really a freeway or anything like that, and substantial like I-5. So there was more mess on that from going through some of the small towns (Though honestly, there aren't that many towns in the way after Monroe until Everett), and I-5 was an understandable mess. Then getting through the city itself was the worst part. There was a lot of making your way through cars, and mayhem still happening in general. It was hard for them to make it through the city without being completely overrun by infected, and they had seen their fair share of people going down from getting overwhelmed themselves. Thea's mother wanted to hide this from her daughter, but what could you do? It's not like she could just disappear from the world forever and hide from what it had become that easily. And she didn't, having seen the chaos going on around them as they went through the city, and almost getting overwhelmed a couple of times themselves. It was a very stressful situation for all of them, but Thea started to literally panic. They had to keep her calm, but it never really worked, her freaking out in fear at their situation. It was rather hard for her to calm down when she felt increasingly claustrophobic inside of a car that was being occasionally swarmed, and when she was witnessing people being killed around her. It was not something that a child could just simply accept with ease, and especially one like her. It wasn't in her personality to just magically be able to adapt to this, or adapt quickly, and she would likely be overly protected by her parents for a while, while she hid away from the scary world that she was now in.

And then, to make things even worse almost, they then hit something closer to an actual traffic jam. Which was when they got to the ferry, as the people still alive had all been heading to the same area, and trying to make it onto the boats. So it was getting rather backed up along the road leading to it, meaning that they were now stuck, still, with some of the undead shambling about outside while they had no real escape, with cars showing up behind them as well. It was rather tense being stuck stopped still while there were zombies wandering around right outside, even if they couldn't actually get to you because you were inside your car. Or so you would hope, anyway. Her parents gave words of comfort, saying they were almost there, but all she could do as a response was let out a scared whimper, and despite her parents words, they were rather tense about the stand still in traffic with the dangers just outside, getting slowly attracted by the noises of cars.

As they sat there for a while, slowly moving forward, there was a thud on the window next to where Thea was, and she let out a scream as she saw one of the infected right outside her window beating on it, snarling and looking like it was trying to reach her because she looked like food. Beyond just screaming, she started to rather freak out in general as well. Which could you be surprised?

"Baby, they can't get you, it's okay, calm down" Her mom tried to reassure her, but it didn't really work, in her panic her unfastening her seat belt and jumping to the other seat on the other side of the car, panicking and breathing heavily. Her father was trying to think of what to do, but before he finished thinking of anything, someone in the car behind them hopped out and took the infected out with a blade that he had, having heard the child freaking out and wanting to get rid of it for her, and before he broke a window or something. Her father rolled down the window, and let out a "thank you" as a reply, and he simply nodded and hopped back in his car. And after that was taken care of, there was the process of trying to calm Thea down, but that was easier said than done, especially how upset she was about the whole situation that they were in. She was so scared and sad about it all, and they just did what they could to calm her down, and it only sort of worked.

And for now, they were still stuck in the line to get on the ferries.

[Ularn]

Minutes passed. Raindrops splashed In the puddles spreading across the deck of the pier. Waves lapped at the volume that supported it. People filed past the rows of desks and the pens at the edge of the pier gradually filled up. Visibility across the water was limited to a few dozen metres and the rainfall muted all sounds to an eerie stillness.
Flak had stopped sitting on his rucksack to keep it from getting drenched as the pen slowly became a wide, shallow paddling pool. Instead he stood aimlessly close to one of the fence sections. His workwear was barely waterproof; only the fluro windbreaker really qualified but he was wearing sufficient layers not to be bothered by the damp. Others were less fortunate. Sam's scrubs were turning translucent beneath his flimsy jacket and he was shivering whenever he was not pacing around restlessly.
From time to time the sound of far-off gunfire filtered through the distance somewhere back along the way he and Sherry had driven to get here. Flak thought it could almost sound like the fireworks going off as he walked into town on Bonfire Night back home. The first time he heard it he was worried but time passed and it never seemed to draw any closer.
The ferry's arrival was heralded by its foghorn. Two blasts, after which the massive dark shadow of the ship started to coalesce out of the rainy mist in front of them.
The screaming started around the same time.
It took Flak several seconds to realise what had happened, that the general background of crying children and the hushed, nervous whispers of grown-ups had been overruled by a rising fearful cacophony taking over the queue back before the desks. Someone shouted something on the megaphone. A gun fired. Then, as Flak turned from the ferry to see what was going on, the temporary barriers gave way and hundreds of screaming people burst through, paying no heed to the warnings of the soldiers.
But the soldiers weren't trying to stop the people. Their attention was towards the mainland and the guards who had been manning the entrances to the holding pens abandoned their posts and sprinted in the opposite direction of the fleeing civilians, weapons gripped. There were more shots. Somewhere a machine gun opened up. Flak still could not see what they were shooting at but the tide of bodies racing towards the boat was almost at their pens, while the boat itself was almost at the pier, slowing as it manoeuvred its boarding ramp into position.
Flak could guess what had happened; the infection had caught up with them at Port Townsend. "Come on," he said, grabbing Sherry's arm, "We've got to make sure we're on that boat!"
Several others were having the same idea. With the guards who had been manning the gates of the holding pens gone, people were spilling out and running for the edge of the pier. Some were waving frantically for the boat. One man even attempted a running jump for the boarding ramp, still several metres away. He missed, disappearing into the water beneath the ship's keel.
Despite whatever measures the military was managing to take, zombies has made it through the perimeter. Flak saw someone go down beneath a flurry of snarling teeth and clawing fingernails. Others were still walking - even running - in spite of injuries that would surely immobilise any living human.
Flak stared all around himself at the developing chaos and locked his own terrified eyes with Sherry. He drew his hammer.

[Eclixia]

Jack and his car were now on the interstate, trying to put as much distance between him and the bloodbath the city must be like by now. And he wasn't alone with this idea - hundreds, if not thousands of other cars were fleeing the city, on both directions, as Jack had just realized he was driving on the wrong side of the road. Occasionally, zombies wandered onto the road only to be flattened by the speeding cars passing by, and Jack had to dodge some to ensure he could keep going. The rumble of tyres on tarmac drowned out the sounds of the apocalypse as thousands of other people hurried out of town and into the country, and when he heard gunshots and the crunch of metal, he recalled that the apocalyptic United States was a dangerous place to be. But as the urban surroundings melted into country, trees replacing walls and buildings, Jack needed to consider where he was going next. The government probably had something to say on safe zones or somewhere where he could go, but when he sifted through radio frequencies to find some advice, he heard nothing but static. Things must be bad in Seattle.

Jack then realized he had all of the United States to go to. Nothing could stop him - his parents (wherever they are by now, his survival instincts taking him far, far away from them), the police, the government, money itself - from running away anywhere he wanted to go and exploring all of this apocalyptic US. It wouldn't be easy - fuel and navigation would always be a problem, but in the States petrol is not hard to come by, and Jack would just have to read the road signs to urban centres across the country. Now, Jack needed to devise a strategy of survival, where should he go? He would have to ride out the first months when zombies were numerous and well-fed, but after that, when the zombie population had died out, the world would not have much canned food left, but it would be much less dangerous. He decided to patrol the side roads for supplies from stopped semi-trucks, stores, whatever he could find, where there wouldn't be much chaos and looting. He pulled off the interstate and into the side roads, looking for anything useful. He met passing cars on the road, as well as a few zombies, but in the security of the car, he felt rather safe. He pulled off the road and opened his map, which had the entire West Coast printed clearly on it. After a few minutes of thought, it was decided. He was going to stay in the state until the entire thing blows over, and then explore the entire post-apocalyptic world for as long as he lived.

[Cainesland]

"We can build our dreams on suspicious minds" Elvis's record played again while Orville finished the chapter of Agatha Christies book. He wasn't sure how it ends but he put it down. Grabbing the remote he turned on the television and stood up to walk to the kitchen. The news was speaking about the terrors of the zombie plague and the death toll while Orville made himself a peanut butter, Raspberry Jelly, and maple syrup sandwich. He had heard about that before at his meetings in the city. A city no doubt in chaos right now. When the sandwich was finished he walked over to the television and switched the channel to the football game. Zombies had infested it. Baseball was a bloodbath. Soccer, cancelled due to death. He sighed and turned to fencing. The guys had skewered heads on swords. He nodded. Orville turned to Russian news and then the German news and they seemed to have few issues at the moment. Though that probably had to due with weather and readiness. If he was told correctly, they would fall as well within the year. He switched the channel to Cartoons and took a bite of his sandwich. When it was finished he got out of his EZ boy recliner and walked over to his cassette collection. If he moved on he was not certain he would be coming back, and if he did he wasn't sure if it would be infested with Biters. He opened the drawer with the Cassettes and read them out. "Roger Whittaker. Benny Goodman. Roy Orbison. Red Army Choir. Tchaikovsky. Rimsky-Korsakov. Glen Miller. Gordon Lightfoot. Cat Stevens. Jim Croce. Tony Orlando. Beach Boys. The lovin' Spoonful. And more." He grabbed a few of them and walked out to his RV. He put them into a drawer. He went into his home and grabbed a tool box and put into the RV. He double checked that he had propane tanks and restocked with fresh milk, eggs, and other ingredients like cereal water and bread. The blankets and pillow cases were cleaned off and the floor vacuumed. A couple eliminators were also in there in case wherever he went didn't have power to cook with. Finally he brought a satellite phone and ammo into the vehicle and as he did so he saw the first of a long line of vehicles heading to the ferry.

[Kyraina]

Joseph and the other two had a fairly open road as many had tried or currently rushing up the interstate trying to get to Fort Casey, but then Joseph came to a stop as he saw some soldiers on the road, but something was off about them. He theen saw it as he pulled closer. They looked rough, unkept, and were holding their weapons lazy, with no muzzel control.
He held up a hand for the others to stop. He kept going forward till one of the want a be soldiers have them stop.

"Pvt. What's going on here?" Joseph asked.

The Pvt. Ignored Joseph's question and raised the barrel off the rifle to Joseph's head when shots rang out of thee trees.

The wanna be soldiers dropped dead and Joseph stood still as a team of Soldiers walked out of the Trees.
A team also moved out of thee trees and surrounded the truck and sports car.

"What's going on here?" Joseph asked.

"Just putting down bandits sir, who are you?" A Man with Sergeant Stripes answered.

"I am Joseph Steel, Former Combat Controller." Joseph responded. The man then walked away and started talking on the radio.

He came back a few minutes later.

"Those two in thee vehicles with you as well?" The Sarge asked.

Joseph nodded. The man sighed and said. "You three follow me."

Joseph nodded as the soldiers ran into the trees then drove out in a styrker and a MRAP. Joseph then followed the two military vehicles.

[Altito Asmoro]

The chaos was a terrifying chaos. One minute ago, it seemed like they would be safe on the pier. Military was there, protection seemed to be like forever and all things in the world was supposed to be fine. Like, extremely fine.

And then it went worse.

Somehow, or something, the chaos was started when the zombies, perhaps they broke to the gate and started to made chaos, biting, killing, destroying everything. Military being military, they tried valiantly to stopped the zombies. Then Flak pulled her arm together, which would be weird if not for the fact it had been the second time. The first time he identified her as his girlfriend, made her blushed all of a sudden. But of course she took some compose of herself in order to looked like one...despite not being one.

"How do we get in, Flak!?" said Sherry, terrified of her fate and Flak's, much less with the others. She looked around and saw few barrels, perhaps still with gasoline inside it.

Something popped up in her mind, but that would required more than two persons and a number of tools and time, something they don't have.

[Ularn]

Flak did not reply immediately. His glance flicked back and forth between the approaching ferry before them and the patchwork firing line the soldiers were trying to assemble behind.
People were forming a crush at the end of the pier, with more arriving by the second, surging forward to get as close to the ferry or as far from the infected as possible, as those near the edge tried to push back to prevent themselves being forced into the water. Even in the few snapshot stares Flak managed while he tried to think of a plan, several people were pushed off the edge. Some tried to swim back to the pier and climb back up; others were too weighed down by belongings to swim.
The army had pulled back its men - those that could. Men in green combat dress withdrew slowly towards the pier whilekeeping their weapons raised, firing sporadically into the onrushing mass of people trying to make for the pier. They barked orders - some at the people; some at each other - many of them conflicting. Some civilians were fighting as well, using their own guns or improvised weapons. At a glance it was almost impossible to tell the frightened healthy from the recently infected; Flak wondered how the soldiers knew the difference. He wondered if they could. Were any infected getting through?
A figure in a camouflage poncho went down beneath the body of a snarling creature dressed in similar uniform. Others too were caught as they fled; the slow, those who stumbled. Anyone who tripped or fell and was not fortunate enough to be trampled was set upon immediately by the ghouls mixed in with the crowds.
The ferry was closer now, with someone wearing a life jacket standing in the end of the boarding ramp trying to tell people to get back and make some space on the jetty. There were maybe five metres of water between the ramp and the pier now, getting gradually fewer all the time. Perhaps if they ran for the end now it would have landed by the time they got to the front of the crush and they could board.
"Come on!" he breathed, and started running towards the ferry.

[Corrian]

Thea Okonedo, Part 2
It was a painfully long and painfully tense wait for them to get onto one of the ferries. They could have easily sat there for hours as they waited for the ferries to come, pick people up, leave, come again, pick people up again, and leave again, then repeated over and over. A lot of people seemed to just get loaded on without their cars, but there was only so much parking for cars to just be abandoned at, though some seemed to just be abandoned alongside the road now, in parking areas alongside it, and they filled the ferries up with as many people as possible outside of their cars, for maximum capacity. Even with that, it still took a rather long time for such a flood of people to make it onto the ferry, though of course many never successfully made it at all.

When it came to being their turn to get on, they decided to be one of the ones taking their whole vehicle, though they didn't know if they expected much to be done with it once they were on the other side. But maybe it could be useful in a different sense on the island itself. They went through the whole vetting process, them making sure that, out of anyone, Thea got through, but in the end, all 3 of them were capable of going through the system, and they drove their vehicle up onto the ferry. They parked their car, and got out, opening the door for Thea to come out as well, but she didn't seem to want to leave, and shook her head, crying lightly. Around them, a lot of people were hopping out of their cars, and scrambling about, many looks of sadness, fear, and general anxiety at the chaotic situation that they all now found themselves in. Thea just seemed to be scared of anything involving being outside the safety of the car, and protested leaving. This was partly why they brought the car for her, because she felt safe in it, but they didn't want her to hide in there forever.

"Hey, we're on the ferry now. We're safe. We're going to be safe. Come on, let's go to the top deck, we've never been on a ferry before, have we? It should be cool" Thea's dad said, trying to give her something to have a positive feeling towards, even if it wasn't really the time for it. He hated seeing his daughter so sad and so scared, that he just wanted to give her something, even if it went nowhere too exciting. She seemed to react, though, and slowly nodded her head and unfastened her seat belt, slowly getting out of the car and coming over to her dads side.

With that, they all headed up to the top deck, where a lot of people seemed to be hanging out, though they were stuffing the ferries with more people than usual, and there were people inside, by their cars still, and up on the deck of the boat. They went to the railings of the boat, looking out across the water for a while, trying to not think about the situation, and just get their minds off of things, but they were all clearly still scared. They pretended not to be for Thea, but the parents were, as well.

What didn't particularly help matters any was when there was suddenly screaming on one side of the boat before they took off, and immediately, they went to go look over on that side of the boat with everyone else. As they looked over there, they saw people swarming the boat, as the people keeping the zombies away seemed to get overwhelmed, and zombies started to break in. At that moment however, due to the boat already being rather full, it started to push off, leaving most of the people behind, except a few who barely made it. And a couple fell in the water as well out of desperation of trying to get on at the last minute. Gunshots were heard as they tried to keep the flood of zombies back, but for the moment, it seemed like they had little control over the mayhem. People were screaming from being ripped apart, and just all over mayhem. At that point, Thea's dad just hugged her close, hiding it so she didn't have to see what was happening, as they sailed out of range, the fate of the ferry depot currently unknown. But it seemed like after some casualties, they managed to get mostly a hold of it again, unless the stopping gunshots was for another reason...

[Ularn]

The ferry docked. Flak never saw it happen through the mass of people between him and the edge of the jetty but he saw the press surge forward up the boarding ramp the moment it was close enough. He tried to weave between them but so was everyone else so that in the end the best he could to was add his weight to the push and keep going forward, holding onto Sherry's hand, hoping that eventually the tarmac road beneath his boots would give way to a steel boat deck. People pushed, shoved. They were desperate; the boat was safety so very close and no-one could afford to give an inch if it meant he they might not get onboard. They screamed and shouted and plead for those in front to keep getting on.
A gun fired close enough that Flak was jostled by those who tried to scatter out of the way. He turned around and saw too bodies on the jetty. One was on its back, spasming weakly as red ink spilled from its head, mouth bloodied and clothing soaked through with dirt and rain. The other was a woman lying face down and still. She looked familiar.
A child began to wail. The still woman twitched. She looked up.
"Mamaaa!" the little girl squealed - one of the two from the car behind them, Flak realised. The woman on the ground was her mother - had been her mother. Cold eyes snapped to the source of the scream as blood stained from a fresh neck wound. Cold hands pressed her to her feet and she stumbled towards the girl who stood with her arms out towards the thing she still thought was her mother.
Flak let go of Sherry's hand and pushed his way back. Most people got out of his way; he was going in the opposite direction now and was no longer competing for a space on the boat. Free of the throng, he hefted his hammer in his right hand, gripping it at the end of the handle. The zombie did not see him; she was still fixated on the little girl at the end of the boarding ramp. There were maybe five metres between mother and daughter; probably eight between Flak and either of them, with people sprinting through and around all of them, oblivious and focused only on reaching the ferry.
Even weighed down by his rucksack and toolbelt, Flak ran faster than a zombie's shuffle. The child's pleading turned into a screech of terror the first time he swing his hammer. He struck the mother on her shoulder. The creature turned with an expression bearing much more anger than any pain, yet it was distracted, raising its arms to try and grapple this new threat. Flak swung again but the raised arms forced his aim off and the hammer connected with her jaw. The girl was screaming at him to stop. The creature gasped wetly from the pulverised hole of its mouth and fell backwards under the impact. One hand grabbing at Flak's sleeve as she went down, pulling him too. Flak felt its ribs snap as he landed hard on them and wrestled free of the clutching talons. The next seconds were a brutal confusion of limbs and the swinging hammer amid the daughter's pleas. Bones snapped. Fingers and wrists were broken and it was only when the woman's arms were little more than bloodied tubes of flesh attached to the stumps of her shoulders that Flak was finally able to bring the hammer down upon her head. The creature gurgled once and was still.
Flak threw the hammer into his belt loop. He felt sick. He looked around to find Sherry but could not see her amid the crush. Hopefully she was on the ferry. The little girl had stopped screaming now; she just looked at him with a face of utter horror from the edge of the boarding ramp. For the first time Flak noticed her brother next to her, arms around her tightly and staring at him with a blank expression. Flak ran forward and swept them up as he stepped onto the ramp. Someone started screaming again. Maybe it was the girl.
No; it was him.

[Corrian]

Elizabeth "Effy" Walker
They kept driving on mostly open road, Elizabeth wanting to take advantage of said road, but ending up restricting herself to keep up with the others, instead of just taking off on the road ahead of them. Eventually, they came to a stop, some soldiers on the road. She wasn't good enough to identify anything wrong with them, and that they may have been fakers. Nope, she didn't notice that at all. However, she noticed pretty quickly when Joseph got out, and one of them decided for some reason to point a gun to Josephs head. She didn't really have time to react to that, though, before there was something else that happened to react to, which was said wanna be soldiers getting shot and killed immediately.

"Fucking Christ!" Effy exclaimed, ducking inside of her car like she expected more bullets to go flying at her as well, even though they seemed pretty targeted towards the wanna be soldiers, and none of them. She did quickly come to, though, after realizing that the shooting was over in a heartbeat with just killing the wanna be soldiers, and nothing else. Though she did immediately see soldiers had surrounded "her" sports car, and nothing really noteworthy happened with that, the man seemingly in charge wandering off for a few minutes. She tempted to make small talk with one of the cuter soldier boys, but she got generally what she expected to get, which was absolutely no reply, or at least probably being told to shut up or something.

And then, they were moving on down the road again, the man in charge telling them to follow them, which they did when their military vehicles came out. They weren't really fast enough for her satisfaction, but she shrugged it off anyway, wondering what the hell exactly was going on, but having no real way to tell anybody else her opinion on that at them oment, as they were on the road again. But she could look confused personally, by herself, and that was enough for now.

Thea Okonedo, Part 3 (?)
Thea was sobbing again, panicking from the sounds of screaming and gunshots that had fired off from the docking bay, and at this point, her dad thought it was best to just bring her back to the car. So much for trying to make things happier. Things just had to go to hell as soon as they got on, making Thea go straight back to freaking out and being scared for her life, even though she was safely on a boat at the moment. She was clearly just in total panic mode, because she didn't know how to cope with stuff like this at all. It was all just so scary, even here, and she sobbed as her dad guided, no carried her, even though she was getting a bit big for such an endeavor, back to the car, and sat her in the back seat gently, and she laid out on the back seats. Surprisingly, not too long later, she dozed off to sleep, seemingly crying herself to sleep in fear. So she felt safe, but she was still scared and upset about everything. They decided it was probably for the best to just let her sleep at this point, so they did. And the parents themselves just discussed what the hell to even do, and were all solemn and gloomy themselves, mostly feeling horrible having to see their daughter in such a state as she was.

And they kept sailing on to Whidbey Island...

[Altito Asmoro]

Sherry was separated from Flak. The ensuing chaos was a massive chaos to a point where although they held their hands together, they just couldn't helped the fact it got harder and harder, before eventually they went separated in the chaos. People around her all either tried to went into the ferry, fought off the zombies with whatever weapons they had, or just straight up went insane and cried.

She couldn't be without something on her hand to be armed for, and thus when she spotted someone dropped a knife out of his hand as he ran away to the ferry, she quickly picked it up and made her way to the ferry.

However, to her horror, once she reached it, she found no Flak on the scene. Nor the fact that something worse had happened...

[Cainesland]

Orville made sure to shut off everything in his home, tv included, and locked his door behind him as he left his home. Probably for the last time. He climbed into his motorhome and put the key in the ignition and started to drive. He had already packed for a camping trip so he had plenty of stuff in the vehicle. A few cars were ahead of him but that was ok. About an hour went by and he arrived at the ferry. The few cars in front of him were admitted on, and soon after his rv was aboard the ferry he noticed that a bunch of people had started to amass behind and vehicles weren't being allowed on anymore. He considered it lucky he got on when he did.

Now that he was on the ferry he turned off the engine to save fuel. Opening the glovebox he took out a book and began to read. When he looked up, the 10 vehicles on the ferry had been consumed in a sea of people.

[Ularn]

"Okay wait just a sec...okay, go for it!" Flak released the breath he was holding.
"Nope. You can't hold your breath; it doesn't work." Stacy was holding the needle and the receiving tube in position. Maybe he should try looking at her for this - that might be relaxing. She looked stunningly pretty - dark-haired and with an alternative, slightly gothy look about her. Normally he was no big fan of ear tunnels but on her they really worked. She was fun as well; geeky and apparently had a tattoo of Nathan Fillion as Malcolm Reynolds on her calve but that was hidden beneath the floor length maroon skirt she was wearing. Actually Flak wished he had more than a month left in Melbourne so he could come back for a few more visits. Maybe do an earlobe.
Nope; if he looked at her then he could also see what she was doing. Better just stare at the ceiling.
"Okay, fine." Flak inhaled again and as he breathed out felt the stab of the needle driving through his flesh. This one hurt more than his tragus; a hell of a lot more than his eyebrow. Holy shit there must be a lot of nerves in a nipple. He felt the thing like it was in his gut. Focused on keeping his body still on the bed, his toes started waggling frantically in his boots as gritted teeth released a long involuntary groan.

Flak was on his knees on the damp metal plates on the edge of the ferry deck. His screaming had subsided into a low animal growl that just would not stop. His mind was a heavy black mass, as though the impossible numbers of things just jammed together in his head denying all access to light or conscious thought.
"Flak? Flak!"
The voice cut through the static of other people screaming around him and the darkness receded. He was on the boat. To his right the pier slipped away behind a gradually widening skin of cold grey water. They had cast off already. They were on the boat and they were moving away from the entire godforsaken land. There were still screams and gunfire coming from that direction but their sources were already hidden in the rainy mist.
His groaning stopped. Flak rose unsteadily to his feet, using a bulkhead for support. He felt sick. Had he been sick? He felt like he had been sick. Once, back in the pickup with Andy, yes, but since then? He could not remember and he felt as though he ought to. Around him people were either giving him as wide a berth as the packed space of the ferry's vehicle deck allowed or ignoring him in favour of their own troubles. Somewhere he could hear a young girl crying. It was familiar. They had made it aboard too then. That was...good?
Standing let him look over the tops of the heads of those around him and he spotted a long dark mane still topped - almost comically - with a pair of round framed sunglasses. The voice calling him was coming from there and Flak pushed towards her. "Sherry!" he breathed as he broke through the throng and was able to put his arms around her. She seemed much more stable than he felt. Without her he thought he was sure to fall down again.

[Sindrya]

A chrome station wagon sped along the highway leading to Deception Pass, swerving through abandoned cars littering the road. The driver, a 60-something old man sporting a thick beard, wearing a fur-collared bomber jacket and black jeans plus a pair of boots, held the steering wheel in one hand, while the other held a Remington 870 right beside the window. Sitting shotgun (the position, not weapon) was a half-Japanese young man, wearing a white t-shirt with the word "Faggot" printed across the chest area in a classic Fallout font, and a lightning bolt in front of the "o", complimented with a black Adidas training pants that normally used by Slavs to squat and greyish sports sneakers. The back seat was occupied by a lone elderly woman that looked about the same age as the driver.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Jun'ichi Sanders - also known as "Johnny" - and his grandparents, Elliott and Diane Sanders. Elliott was a retired USMC personnel, held a rank of Captain before retiring, and also a 'Nam veteran, while Diane was the stereotypical American grandmother who always bakes cookies and made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich whenever her grandson came home. Inside the car, music from the radio boomed, loud enough to tempt everyone in the car to sing along, but not enough to lure zombies because of the sound. The broadcaster, after bringing the latest news from various safe points in the States, apparently intended to dispel a little bit of the gloom, because he had choose "Will The Circle Be Unbroken?" as the next track. Unlike his grandparents who actually knew the song, Jun only knew the song because he played that game about a man trying to kidnap a girl from a floating city. Nonetheless, Jun sang along to the song, while his gramps hummed along to the tune.

"I was standing by the window
On one cold and cloudy day
When I saw the hearse come rolling
For to carry my mother away

Will the circ- Gramps, your right."

Jun broke his singing to warn his gramps about a zombie catching up to their vehicle and trying to latch on the windows on his grandpa's side, and it just had to be in their luck to have both side windows smashed open because they were being swarmed right before they left Mt. Vernon. "Goddammit.", Elliott swore, before aiming the barrel of his shotgun right at the zombie's head and pulled the trigger. Looking at the zombie's head exploded into a pile of chunky salsa, Elliott pulled back the shotgun and and pumped it with one hand. All that done with the gesture and reflex of a seasoned veteran, not even showing the effect of his aging bones. He did complain, however. "Any more of this drive-by shooting and I swear my arm's gonna break.", he said. "We've been driving non-stop for one hour and a half since we left Seattle. If I were twenty years younger I won't complain, but I'm sixty-seven, for God's sake!"

"You're a Marine, gramps. Where's that 'Semper Fi' gone?", Jun joked. Elliott grumbled in response, "My 'Semper Fi' was gone the moment I left the Marines."

The song still carried on. Picking up the tune, Jun resumed singing along.

"I said to the undertaker
Undertaker please drive slow
For this lady you are carrying
Lord I hate to see her go

Will the circle be unbro- oi! Yaro! (Bastard!)"

It never last long, huh? Another zombie just had to jump towards the window on Jun's side. Quickly reacting, Jun grabbed his fire axe and swung the blunt side towards the zombie's head (he didn't want to chop the door), disorienting it and took it off the window. As the zombie rolled on the road, Jun stuck out his head and screamed "Betsu jidousha wo shutokunda, boke! (Get another car, dumbass!)"

Pulling his head back in, he sighed and laid his back on the seat. Looking at the rear-view mirror, he saw at least twenty or more zombies starting to chase the car. Elliott, noticing this, grumpily commented, "They just don't know when to stay dead, don't they?"

Jun quickly got an idea. "Well, gramps, I think they're just.... dying to get to us.", he said, chuckling, thinking that was a clever pun.

Which only earned him a smack of the shotgun's stock from Elliott and a disapproving look from Diane, making him muttering "Itte (Ouch)" while rubbing the spot that just got hit. "What the hell was that for, gramps?", he questioned.

"Just be grateful that wasn't as hard as when I hit you for saying 'Time to Seattle down' when you first came to my house.", Elliott grumpily stated.

It was then when they noticed a convoy of vehicles moving in front of them, going on the same direction as theirs. Straining his old eyes, Elliott could make out a Stryker and a MRAP leading the convoy. Knowing that they've found a convoy of survivors led by the military brought some kind of relief, though both Elliott and Jun knew that it was too soon to feel relieved. Picking up the speed, Elliott queued the car with the convoy. He blared the horn, as if to signify they've got another vehicle joining, and stuck his head out, intending to talk to the car in front his - namely, the car at the back of the convoy. Meanwhile, Jun stuck his head out simply due to boredom, and wanted to see the face of another human that wasn't bloodied or half-torn.

"Hey there!", Elliot shouted. "You folks headin' to Fort Casey?"

[Ularn]

Flak held on to Sherry for a long time. Eventually he let go of her but the press of bodies flooding the vehicle deck kept them close. The rain was soaking through his clothing now, turning his skin cold and damp beneath. Droplets kept running off the tip of his cap as he kept his head bowed.
The crossing took around half an hour. Neither one said anything during that time. No-one really did after the fear eventually subsided. He did not know about Sherry, but Flak could think of nothing worth saying. Scenes from the last four hours - things he had tried to block out at the time - kept streaming through his mind like his brain had been caching it all up for when the drive for immediate survival gave way enough for him to actually process, whether he wanted to or not. Images of mauled humans; people running, fleeing, begging and dying; the people who swarmed the car in Tacoma; the mother on the docks; Andy.
Like a toxic leech devouring his thoughts, Flak could not help shake a single idea - that he had killed them all.
The ferry landed and Flak allowed himself to be carried along by the tide of people disembarking. From the faces around him it was easy to see how exhausted they all were; pale, cold and uncertain. The soldiers who greeted them on the pier looked much the same. Word must have already reached them about what happened to Port Townsend. There were more dogs here, moving through the crowd with their handlers since there were no fences to arrange people into a queue. Once off the pier they were shepherded through the carpark, under the watchful cyclopean eye of two humvees mounting machine guns. All the civilian vehicles seemed to have been parked in a field on the other side of the road, giving the trucks an uninterrupted field of fire. Flak could see all kinds of vehicles; SUVs, coupes, RVs - several of them weighed down by furniture and other belongings. Apparently at some point the ferries had been taking on cars as well.
Everything was much quieter than it had been at the other end of the ferry. Someone must have been directing the crowds but Flak never heard them; he just followed everyone else through the rain. After the carpark they were led through a forest that offered some shelter from the weather, past a couple of houses, and then the trees cleared and Flak saw Fort Casey for the first time.
In the background were the old concrete fortifications making up the perimeter, studded with naval artillery that was completely ignored by the various camouflaged figures he could make out walking the ramparts, moving purposefully between what appeared like hastily arranged offices and storage rooms beneath the weapon emplacements. Electric lighting glowed from some of the bunkers' windows and doorways, suggesting either the power was somehow still running or the military had a generator. Between the guns and the new arrivals was a flurry of activity, with hundreds if not thousands of civilians filling the area, working in teams to assemble neat little streets of identical olive green canvas tents like the ones Flak had gone camping in as a Scout. Like an ant colony in a frenzy, the overall impression was one of localised order amid general chaos; people getting on with their own tasks but without anyone seeming to know or understand the bigger picture, if there was one.
They filed between a group of soldiers, one of whom was instructing, "Find a tent; get buildin'. Find a tent; get buildin'. Ain't nowhere to sleep 'til you get your tent up."
"What? Just any tent?" someone asked.
"I'm hungry!" someone else called, "Is there gonna be food?"
"We're workin' on that!" the soldier snapped back, clearly not answering the question for the first time, "Just go find a tent - any tent."
Someone had marked the grass with pink spray paint, Flak found when he and Sherry reached an empty tent spot, dividing it up into numbered squares so that the tents were built as close as possible and made the best use of the space. They had already passed one group being ordered by a soldier to take their tent down and start over because it was outside their grid. Each square had a roped up green duffel bag dumped in the centre containing the unassembled tent. From the ones he had already seen built Flak guessed they could fit maybe twenty people in each one. There were probably a few hundred tents in total here but he expected the campsite would extend beyond what was enclosed by the fortifications and off into the tree line. Lot of groups he noticed did not seem to have the correct tools for the job. Although there were wooden mallets being used here and there, he saw more than one individual in the mud on their hands and knees, trying to batter in tent pegs with a rock or a tree branch or sometimes their bare hands. Once they passed a limp looking green assembly and Flak overheard someone complaining to a soldier that their tent had no guy-ropes in the bag.
Testing the softening ground in their square with one foot and immensely glad for his waterproof workbooks as a puddle began forming around his sole, Flak looked at Sherry and attempted a smile. "I guess we'd better get cracking," he said, speaking for perhaps the first time since boarding the ferry, and dumped his back on the ground with a clunk before setting about untying the ropes holding the duffel bag closed.

[Kyraina]

A chrome station wagon sped along the highway leading to Deception Pass, swerving through abandoned cars littering the road. The driver, a 60-something old man sporting a thick beard, wearing a fur-collared bomber jacket and black jeans plus a pair of boots, held the steering wheel in one hand, while the other held a Remington 870 right beside the window. Sitting shotgun (the position, not weapon) was a half-Japanese young man, wearing a white t-shirt with the word "Faggot" printed across the chest area in a classic Fallout font, and a lightning bolt in front of the "o", complimented with a black Adidas training pants that normally used by Slavs to squat and greyish sports sneakers. The back seat was occupied by a lone elderly woman that looked about the same age as the driver.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Jun'ichi Sanders - also known as "Johnny" - and his grandparents, Elliott and Diane Sanders. Elliott was a retired USMC personnel, held a rank of Captain before retiring, and also a 'Nam veteran, while Diane was the stereotypical American grandmother who always bakes cookies and made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich whenever her grandson came home. Inside the car, music from the radio boomed, loud enough to tempt everyone in the car to sing along, but not enough to lure zombies because of the sound. The broadcaster, after bringing the latest news from various safe points in the States, apparently intended to dispel a little bit of the gloom, because he had choose "Will The Circle Be Unbroken?" as the next track. Unlike his grandparents who actually knew the song, Jun only knew the song because he played that game about a man trying to kidnap a girl from a floating city. Nonetheless, Jun sang along to the song, while his gramps hummed along to the tune.

"I was standing by the window
On one cold and cloudy day
When I saw the hearse come rolling
For to carry my mother away

Will the circ- Gramps, your right."

Jun broke his singing to warn his gramps about a zombie catching up to their vehicle and trying to latch on the windows on his grandpa's side, and it just had to be in their luck to have both side windows smashed open because they were being swarmed right before they left Mt. Vernon. "Goddammit.", Elliott swore, before aiming the barrel of his shotgun right at the zombie's head and pulled the trigger. Looking at the zombie's head exploded into a pile of chunky salsa, Elliott pulled back the shotgun and and pumped it with one hand. All that done with the gesture and reflex of a seasoned veteran, not even showing the effect of his aging bones. He did complain, however. "Any more of this drive-by shooting and I swear my arm's gonna break.", he said. "We've been driving non-stop for one hour and a half since we left Seattle. If I were twenty years younger I won't complain, but I'm sixty-seven, for God's sake!"

"You're a Marine, gramps. Where's that 'Semper Fi' gone?", Jun joked. Elliott grumbled in response, "My 'Semper Fi' was gone the moment I left the Marines."

The song still carried on. Picking up the tune, Jun resumed singing along.

"I said to the undertaker
Undertaker please drive slow
For this lady you are carrying
Lord I hate to see her go

Will the circle be unbro- oi! Yaro! (Bastard!)"

It never last long, huh? Another zombie just had to jump towards the window on Jun's side. Quickly reacting, Jun grabbed his fire axe and swung the blunt side towards the zombie's head (he didn't want to chop the door), disorienting it and took it off the window. As the zombie rolled on the road, Jun stuck out his head and screamed "Betsu jidousha wo shutokunda, boke! (Get another car, dumbass!)"

Pulling his head back in, he sighed and laid his back on the seat. Looking at the rear-view mirror, he saw at least twenty or more zombies starting to chase the car. Elliott, noticing this, grumpily commented, "They just don't know when to stay dead, don't they?"

Jun quickly got an idea. "Well, gramps, I think they're just.... dying to get to us.", he said, chuckling, thinking that was a clever pun.

Which only earned him a smack of the shotgun's stock from Elliott and a disapproving look from Diane, making him muttering "Itte (Ouch)" while rubbing the spot that just got hit. "What the hell was that for, gramps?", he questioned.

"Just be grateful that wasn't as hard as when I hit you for saying 'Time to Seattle down' when you first came to my house.", Elliott grumpily stated.

It was then when they noticed a convoy of vehicles moving in front of them, going on the same direction as theirs. Straining his old eyes, Elliott could make out a Stryker and a MRAP leading the convoy. Knowing that they've found a convoy of survivors led by the military brought some kind of relief, though both Elliott and Jun knew that it was too soon to feel relieved. Picking up the speed, Elliott queued the car with the convoy. He blared the horn, as if to signify they've got another vehicle joining, and stuck his head out, intending to talk to the car in front his - namely, the car at the back of the convoy. Meanwhile, Jun stuck his head out simply due to boredom, and wanted to see the face of another human that wasn't bloodied or half-torn.

"Hey there!", Elliot shouted. "You folks headin' to Fort Casey?"

The convoy pulled to the side. The convoy itself was made up of a MRAP, a Styrker, a personalized Toyota Tundra that had a kayak on top a trailer on the back, a Indian Scout Motorcycle, and a Supercar. As the Convoy came to a halt, the soldiers jump out of both The MRAP, and the Stryker. Two Soldiers dropped the ramp on thee back of the trailer that was on the Tundra. Joseph loaded it up, jumped off, took his helmet off, put it in the truck, grab his AR-15, and approached the station wagon with the Sergeant.

As the Sergeant was about to answer, Joseph stopped him.

"Yes Sir, we are. You are welcome to come along. We can use the spare..........."

The M2 on the MRAP, and and the 20mm on the Stryker opened fire on a advancing horde of zombies.

"Everyone one move now. Styrker up front Mrap at the back. Go, Go, Go!" The Sarge said as troops got back In the Two Armored Vehicles and two jumped into the back of Joseph's truck.

The Styrker took off, followed by the Civilian Vehicles, and then followed by the MRAP.

[Sindrya]

A chrome station wagon sped along the highway leading to Deception Pass, swerving through abandoned cars littering the road. The driver, a 60-something old man sporting a thick beard, wearing a fur-collared bomber jacket and black jeans plus a pair of boots, held the steering wheel in one hand, while the other held a Remington 870 right beside the window. Sitting shotgun (the position, not weapon) was a half-Japanese young man, wearing a white t-shirt with the word "Faggot" printed across the chest area in a classic Fallout font, and a lightning bolt in front of the "o", complimented with a black Adidas training pants that normally used by Slavs to squat and greyish sports sneakers. The back seat was occupied by a lone elderly woman that looked about the same age as the driver.

Ladies and gentlemen, meet Jun'ichi Sanders - also known as "Johnny" - and his grandparents, Elliott and Diane Sanders. Elliott was a retired USMC personnel, held a rank of Captain before retiring, and also a 'Nam veteran, while Diane was the stereotypical American grandmother who always bakes cookies and made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich whenever her grandson came home. Inside the car, music from the radio boomed, loud enough to tempt everyone in the car to sing along, but not enough to lure zombies because of the sound. The broadcaster, after bringing the latest news from various safe points in the States, apparently intended to dispel a little bit of the gloom, because he had choose "Will The Circle Be Unbroken?" as the next track. Unlike his grandparents who actually knew the song, Jun only knew the song because he played that game about a man trying to kidnap a girl from a floating city. Nonetheless, Jun sang along to the song, while his gramps hummed along to the tune.

"I was standing by the window
On one cold and cloudy day
When I saw the hearse come rolling
For to carry my mother away

Will the circ- Gramps, your right."

Jun broke his singing to warn his gramps about a zombie catching up to their vehicle and trying to latch on the windows on his grandpa's side, and it just had to be in their luck to have both side windows smashed open because they were being swarmed right before they left Mt. Vernon. "Goddammit.", Elliott swore, before aiming the barrel of his shotgun right at the zombie's head and pulled the trigger. Looking at the zombie's head exploded into a pile of chunky salsa, Elliott pulled back the shotgun and and pumped it with one hand. All that done with the gesture and reflex of a seasoned veteran, not even showing the effect of his aging bones. He did complain, however. "Any more of this drive-by shooting and I swear my arm's gonna break.", he said. "We've been driving non-stop for one hour and a half since we left Seattle. If I were twenty years younger I won't complain, but I'm sixty-seven, for God's sake!"

"You're a Marine, gramps. Where's that 'Semper Fi' gone?", Jun joked. Elliott grumbled in response, "My 'Semper Fi' was gone the moment I left the Marines."

The song still carried on. Picking up the tune, Jun resumed singing along.

"I said to the undertaker
Undertaker please drive slow
For this lady you are carrying
Lord I hate to see her go

Will the circle be unbro- oi! Yaro! (Bastard!)"

It never last long, huh? Another zombie just had to jump towards the window on Jun's side. Quickly reacting, Jun grabbed his fire axe and swung the blunt side towards the zombie's head (he didn't want to chop the door), disorienting it and took it off the window. As the zombie rolled on the road, Jun stuck out his head and screamed "Betsu jidousha wo shutokunda, boke! (Get another car, dumbass!)"

Pulling his head back in, he sighed and laid his back on the seat. Looking at the rear-view mirror, he saw at least twenty or more zombies starting to chase the car. Elliott, noticing this, grumpily commented, "They just don't know when to stay dead, don't they?"

Jun quickly got an idea. "Well, gramps, I think they're just.... dying to get to us.", he said, chuckling, thinking that was a clever pun.

Which only earned him a smack of the shotgun's stock from Elliott and a disapproving look from Diane, making him muttering "Itte (Ouch)" while rubbing the spot that just got hit. "What the hell was that for, gramps?", he questioned.

"Just be grateful that wasn't as hard as when I hit you for saying 'Time to Seattle down' when you first came to my house.", Elliott grumpily stated.

It was then when they noticed a convoy of vehicles moving in front of them, going on the same direction as theirs. Straining his old eyes, Elliott could make out a Stryker and a MRAP leading the convoy. Knowing that they've found a convoy of survivors led by the military brought some kind of relief, though both Elliott and Jun knew that it was too soon to feel relieved. Picking up the speed, Elliott queued the car with the convoy. He blared the horn, as if to signify they've got another vehicle joining, and stuck his head out, intending to talk to the car in front his - namely, the car at the back of the convoy. Meanwhile, Jun stuck his head out simply due to boredom, and wanted to see the face of another human that wasn't bloodied or half-torn.

"Hey there!", Elliot shouted. "You folks headin' to Fort Casey?"

The convoy pulled to the side. The convoy itself was made up of a MRAP, a Styrker, a personalized Toyota Tundra that had a kayak on top a trailer on the back, a Indian Scout Motorcycle, and a Supercar. As the Convoy came to a halt, the soldiers jump out of both The MRAP, and the Stryker. Two Soldiers dropped the ramp on thee back of the trailer that was on the Tundra. Joseph loaded it up, jumped off, took his helmet off, put it in the truck, grab his AR-15, and approached the station wagon with the Sergeant.

As the Sergeant was about to answer, Joseph stopped him.

"Yes Sir, we are. You are welcome to come along. We can use the spare..........."

The M2 on the MRAP, and and the 20mm on the Stryker opened fire on a advancing horde of zombies.

"Everyone one move now. Styrker up front Mrap at the back. Go, Go, Go!" The Sarge said as troops got back In the Two Armored Vehicles and two jumped into the back of Joseph's truck.

The Styrker took off, followed by the Civilian Vehicles, and then followed by the MRAP.

Elliott smiled when he heard the answer, and was about to voice his relief, until suddenly he heard the familiar sound of machine gun fire. If he didn't have a better control over his own mind, he would have experienced another bout of 'Nam flashback, while screaming "The Charlies! The Charlies are on the trees!" over and over. Luckily, he did. Though that didn't stop him from shouting "Sir, yes sir!" in response to the sergeant barking his orders. Looks like he didn't really have a complete control over it.

As soon as the convoy started moving, the war veteran hit the gas, following the convoy, now that he and his family is officially a part of it. He grabbed the shotgun with one free hand and passed it at Jun. "Your turn to shoot.", he said simply.

"I thought the MRAP behind us will take care of the horde following us?", Jun argued.

"Who can guarantee that they won't miss one or two zombies?", Elliott retorted. "We're the second line of defense, since we're directly ahead of the MRAP. Besides, I thought you've been wanting to shoot something for a while, now?"

Jun smiled. "You really can read me like a book, huh Gramps?"

Elliott only grinned. Now it was left to Jun, who were looking back and forth between the rearview mirror on his side and the one at his grandfather's side. When any zombies managed to catch up to them, he'll be ready to blow their heads off.

[Kyraina]

The convoy pulled to the side. The convoy itself was made up of a MRAP, a Styrker, a personalized Toyota Tundra that had a kayak on top a trailer on the back, a Indian Scout Motorcycle, and a Supercar. As the Convoy came to a halt, the soldiers jump out of both The MRAP, and the Stryker. Two Soldiers dropped the ramp on thee back of the trailer that was on the Tundra. Joseph loaded it up, jumped off, took his helmet off, put it in the truck, grab his AR-15, and approached the station wagon with the Sergeant.

As the Sergeant was about to answer, Joseph stopped him.

"Yes Sir, we are. You are welcome to come along. We can use the spare..........."

The M2 on the MRAP, and and the 20mm on the Stryker opened fire on a advancing horde of zombies.

"Everyone one move now. Styrker up front Mrap at the back. Go, Go, Go!" The Sarge said as troops got back In the Two Armored Vehicles and two jumped into the back of Joseph's truck.

The Styrker took off, followed by the Civilian Vehicles, and then followed by the MRAP.

Elliott smiled when he heard the answer, and was about to voice his relief, until suddenly he heard the familiar sound of machine gun fire. If he didn't have a better control over his own mind, he would have experienced another bout of 'Nam flashback, while screaming "The Charlies! The Charlies are on the trees!" over and over. Luckily, he did. Though that didn't stop him from shouting "Sir, yes sir!" in response to the sergeant barking his orders. Looks like he didn't really have a complete control over it.

As soon as the convoy started moving, the war veteran hit the gas, following the convoy, now that he and his family is officially a part of it. He grabbed the shotgun with one free hand and passed it at Jun. "Your turn to shoot.", he said simply.

"I thought the MRAP behind us will take care of the horde following us?", Jun argued.

"Who can guarantee that they won't miss one or two zombies?", Elliott retorted. "We're the second line of defense, since we're directly ahead of the MRAP. Besides, I thought you've been wanting to shoot something for a while, now?"

Jun smiled. "You really can read me like a book, huh Gramps?"

Elliott only grinned. Now it was left to Jun, who were looking back and forth between the rearview mirror on his side and the one at his grandfather's side. When any zombies managed to catch up to them, he'll be ready to blow their heads off.

The Mrap tried to move but two of its 4 wheels had sunk into mud, so it's men jumped out and started firing into the horde, several zombies falling to the fire, but The numbers where to great, door the men outside the MRAP, who soon fell, but the M2 .50 Call machine gun kept firing into the Zombie horde.

Meanwhile the Styrker lead the 3 vechiles away from thee zombies and towards the safe zone. The Stryker pulled over and the driver signaled for them to continue down the road to Deception Pass, and then to Fort Casey.

Joseph nodded, Saluted and went on.

The stryker turned around and went to go help their brother in arms.

Several minutes later The 3 vechiles passed over Deception Pass, and the bridge was closed, and was ready to blow at a moment's notice.

Several minutes later they stopped outside of Fort Casey.

Joseph climbed out of the truck. Grabbed his weapons and gear and walked over to the station wagon.

"I'm Joseph Bridges, Staff Sergeant, USAF, Retired. Who may I ask y'all are?"

[Sindrya]

Elliott smiled when he heard the answer, and was about to voice his relief, until suddenly he heard the familiar sound of machine gun fire. If he didn't have a better control over his own mind, he would have experienced another bout of 'Nam flashback, while screaming "The Charlies! The Charlies are on the trees!" over and over. Luckily, he did. Though that didn't stop him from shouting "Sir, yes sir!" in response to the sergeant barking his orders. Looks like he didn't really have a complete control over it.

As soon as the convoy started moving, the war veteran hit the gas, following the convoy, now that he and his family is officially a part of it. He grabbed the shotgun with one free hand and passed it at Jun. "Your turn to shoot.", he said simply.

"I thought the MRAP behind us will take care of the horde following us?", Jun argued.

"Who can guarantee that they won't miss one or two zombies?", Elliott retorted. "We're the second line of defense, since we're directly ahead of the MRAP. Besides, I thought you've been wanting to shoot something for a while, now?"

Jun smiled. "You really can read me like a book, huh Gramps?"

Elliott only grinned. Now it was left to Jun, who were looking back and forth between the rearview mirror on his side and the one at his grandfather's side. When any zombies managed to catch up to them, he'll be ready to blow their heads off.

The Mrap tried to move but two of its 4 wheels had sunk into mud, so it's men jumped out and started firing into the horde, several zombies falling to the fire, but The numbers where to great, door the men outside the MRAP, who soon fell, but the M2 .50 Call machine gun kept firing into the Zombie horde.

Meanwhile the Styrker lead the 3 vechiles away from thee zombies and towards the safe zone. The Stryker pulled over and the driver signaled for them to continue down the road to Deception Pass, and then to Fort Casey.

Joseph nodded, Saluted and went on.

The stryker turned around and went to go help their brother in arms.

Several minutes later The 3 vechiles passed over Deception Pass, and the bridge was closed, and was ready to blow at a moment's notice.

Several minutes later they stopped outside of Fort Casey.

Joseph climbed out of the truck. Grabbed his weapons and gear and walked over to the station wagon.

"I'm Joseph Bridges, Staff Sergeant, USAF, Retired. Who may I ask y'all are?"

Almost as if on reflexes, Elliott answered in a loud and clear tone, like the tone he used when he was speaking to fellow officer on the field. "Elliott Sanders, sir! Captain, United States Marine Corps, Third Division, Fourth Marine Regiment-"

Shit, the old soldier finally realized. Still no full control over it.

He eased himself, before continuing, using a tone that he used when speaking normally. "-Retired."

Jun looked at his grandfather solemnly. War changes a man, and the change is irreversible, huh?, he thought. The half-Japanese young man still held the Remington 870 in his arms, finding it almost fell to no use, since he only shot two of those zombies. The MRAP did a pretty decent job, even though it was being swarmed at first, the Stryker crew came back to help them.

After taking a few moments to ease himself, Elliott realized he still haven't introduced everyone. He gestured to the old lady in the back seat. "This is my wife, Diane.", he introduced, to which Diane smiled gracefully at the officer. "And this is my grandson, Jun'ichi.", he gestured again, towards the one on the seat beside him this time. Jun nodded. "Everyone called me Johnny. Or Jun." He shrugged. "Choose whichever you please."

[Kyraina]

The Mrap tried to move but two of its 4 wheels had sunk into mud, so it's men jumped out and started firing into the horde, several zombies falling to the fire, but The numbers where to great, door the men outside the MRAP, who soon fell, but the M2 .50 Call machine gun kept firing into the Zombie horde.

Meanwhile the Styrker lead the 3 vechiles away from thee zombies and towards the safe zone. The Stryker pulled over and the driver signaled for them to continue down the road to Deception Pass, and then to Fort Casey.

Joseph nodded, Saluted and went on.

The stryker turned around and went to go help their brother in arms.

Several minutes later The 3 vechiles passed over Deception Pass, and the bridge was closed, and was ready to blow at a moment's notice.

Several minutes later they stopped outside of Fort Casey.

Joseph climbed out of the truck. Grabbed his weapons and gear and walked over to the station wagon.

"I'm Joseph Bridges, Staff Sergeant, USAF, Retired. Who may I ask y'all are?"

Almost as if on reflexes, Elliott answered in a loud and clear tone, like the tone he used when he was speaking to fellow officer on the field. "Elliott Sanders, sir! Captain, United States Marine Corps, Third Division, Fourth Marine Regiment-"

Shit, the old soldier finally realized. Still no full control over it.

He eased himself, before continuing, using a tone that he used when speaking normally. "-Retired."

Jun looked at his grandfather solemnly. War changes a man, and the change is irreversible, huh?, he thought. The half-Japanese young man still held the Remington 870 in his arms, finding it almost fell to no use, since he only shot two of those zombies. The MRAP did a pretty decent job, even though it was being swarmed at first, the Stryker crew came back to help them.

After taking a few moments to ease himself, Elliott realized he still haven't introduced everyone. He gestured to the old lady in the back seat. "This is my wife, Diane.", he introduced, to which Diane smiled gracefully at the officer. "And this is my grandson, Jun'ichi.", he gestured again, towards the one on the seat beside him this time. Jun nodded. "Everyone called me Johnny. Or Jun." He shrugged. "Choose whichever you please."

Joseph smiled and laughed. He then Saluted along with the two privates that had been in the back of the truck Saluted as well.

"Nice to meet you sir. This is Leroy, Dog, and I don't know the girl's name yet." Joseph replied.

A soldier then walked out from behind a earthen bunker and said "I need y'all to follow me, you may keep the weapons for now."

Joseph nodded and followed the new soldier

[Biscaria]

Jimmy & Bea Carter
Mt. Baker Lodge, Baker Lake
November 16, 2016. 5:06 PM

With havoc reigning supreme in the cities, it was all quiet at Jimmy H. Carter's lodge. The previously moderate rainstorm had mellowed to a drizzle, and the gentle gurgle of a nearby creek became audible without the rain taking precedence. This in itself was not unusual, for it was a lonely existence at the lodge and during the off-season it was often quiet enough to hear a pin drop. That is, if Carter hadn't sworn about its fall before it hit the ground.

Carter very well would have died of loneliness at the lodge if it weren't for his daughter Bea. When his wife Aggie died of a heart attack in 2010, Carter was ready to curl up and call it quits on life. That was when 40 year old Bea decided to leave her hectic job as a secretary in Seattle to care for her ailing father. Never lucky in romantic endeavors nor owing any debt, Bea had no responsibilities in the city and was easily able to make the move. In the summer when not at school in the city, she had grown up at the Mt. Baker Lodge and knew the place almost as well as Carter. And through the nearly 6 years she had been back there, she edged out a fine existence with her father in the wilderness hotel they called home.

However, Bea's presence was still no replacement for Aggie's absence. Nearly every day, Carter would mourn Aggie's picture on his nightstand. And nearly every day, Carter would complain that Bea's cooking was never as good as her mother's. Bea knew she could never fill her mother's hole in his father's heart. But she hoped that she could chisel a new place in his heart just as large adjacent in it. After all, hadn't she made the sacrifice to move out to the isolated wilderness to be with him?

This was why Bea wished her mother was still alive. She had just learned of a zombie apocalypse being underway, but when she informed her father he just shrugged it off. If only her mother was alive; she felt that she could talk some sense in to him. She was the only one that could break through his stubborn barrier, and Bea needed that power right then. Who knew when the zombie apocalypse would reach the lodge? It might take hours, days, or weeks, but Bea was convinced that she needed to be able to get her father and her to a safe zone when it inevitably comes. Thus, she had been packing their things and readying Carter's old Taylorcraft B Seaplane for a sudden take off.

Meanwhile, Carter himself was reading to do a little late afternoon hunting. Carter was still very agile and quick in his wits for a man his age, and a sudden desire to hunt was not impeded by any personal limitations. The only thing impeding him at that point was Bea, who was shuffling through the pantry when she saw Carter take his Savage rifle and put on his distinctive baseball cap.

"Dad, don't telling me you're going out for a hunt. You'll get pounced by an infected animal, or at the very least catch a cold."
Carter shrugged her off. "Ah Bea, your old man will be fine. Just gotta stretch m'legs for bit. I'll be back for dinner."
"I'm serious Dad."
"Just for a little while! And after I've bagged a few critters out there I'll be back in jiffy. Don't worry."

Carter then went out for his short hunt and Bea gave up trying to stop him. She knew it was futile, and her grave concern was not enough to stop her father's strong will. So she just stood there, further continuing her search through the pantry for food to pack. She took comfort only in the fact that if her father met a zombie in the woods, it probably wouldn't be a zombie for long.

[Biscaria]

Jimmy & Bea Carter
Mt. Baker Lodge, Baker Lake
November 16, 2016. 5:48 PM

Bea just finishes making a dinner of canned venison and potatoes when her father comes home from his hunt after nearly an hour. The crazy old fool, she thought. She hadn't remembered it earlier when perusing the pantry, but when Carter had gone out hunting it had already been dark out. She often wonders if her father's mind is going, but then she remembers him doing things like this when she was a kid. But why now, she thought. Does he just like to torment me? Then she considers the fact that he actually may have listened to her: if it was a zombie apocalypse, then Park Rangers would more than likely have their hands tied too much to stop him him from poaching.

He then comes inside with his Savage rifle, and seems unusually tired and displeased.
"Bad hunting tonight. Searched all round' and I only shot some rabid little bastards. Burned 'em on spot."
He then notices his daughter's meal.

"Ah, some canned venison! Thanks a lot Bea. I know it must be hard to put it up with an old codger like me, night hunting and all, when you're just tryin' to look out for my health. Not that I really I need it, but I do 'preciate it. You're the best daughter a man could have."

Bea sighs. "Just wash up Dad. And promise me you won't do any more night hunting."
Carter goes to take off his outerwear and readies himself to eat.
"Promise," he said. Not with his usual mischievous smile, but a beaten one.

[Biscaria]

Jimmy & Bea Carter
Mt. Baker Lodge, Baker Lake
November 16, 2016. 10:17 PM

Bea Carter turns off the last of the lodge's lights for the night and retires to bed about thirty minutes after her father. This is a strange occurrence, as Carter never was never known as an early-to-bed kind of person. In his younger years, when Bea was a mere child, he would host parties with friends and guests and light bonfires on the beach of Baker Lake. Now, even in his old age, Carter would stay up late watching TV or playing cards with her. None of those things interested him tonight. Perhaps he didn't want to hear anymore about the ongoing apocalypse, contenting himself to retreat into his own self-possessed little world of slumber up at Baker Lake.

Thus, Bea pulls the covers over her and tries to go to sleep. But anxiety keeps her awake, and she lies there for fifteen minutes with her eyes wide open. That is when she hears a loud noises and some thumps outside, and decides to warily investigate.
Bea puts on her robe and slippers and peeks out her bedroom door. Nothing there. She exits the room and walks down the hallway, now gesturing towards the stairs. The sounds stop, but then resume. Bea grows nervous, but for some reason descends the stairs against her better judgement. She motions towards the kitchen, where she finally finds the culprit.

A large black bear is tooling around the room. Only, it isn't a normal bear. The bear is limping, and has gash marks around its body. It also has a strange look to it, and as it growled and went around the room once more she assumes it is rabid.
Bea's assumption is further reinforced when the bear notices her and charges. With a vacant look in its eye, the bear half-limps half runs at her. It is also then when Bea realizes something horrible; this bear has become zombified. Bea backs into a wall near the stairs and screams in horror as the zombie bear lunges at her. She closes her eyes and prepares herself for the worse.

*Bang*

There is a loud gun shot, and Bea opens her eyes to find the zombie's bear's brain splattered across the floor, with pieces of brain lying up against her right slipper.
"Got it." She hears her father's voice, and sees Carter leaning over the railing of the stairs, Savage rifle in hand. She had noticed that the gun wasn't in it's usual place by the back door way when she went to bed. Carter must have taken it with him.
"You all right kid?" asked Carter.
Bea nodded. As the grown woman began to cry, she ran up the stairs to hug him.
"We can't stay here. There may not be a lot of people around these parts, but there sure as hell is a lot of animals. And if those animals are becoming rabid zombies, there's no way we can handle them all."
Carter considers her plea. "Well, I handled that one pretty well."
"Dad, ple-"
"Bea, for your old dad's sake get some rest. Ya can't think on a tired brain."
"I've almost got the seaplane packed, we could jus-"
"We'll talk about it in the morning, now go along Bea."
Soundly defeated for the night and unable to argue with her lifesaving 82 year old father, Bea went back upstairs and into her bedroom. She takes a few sleeping pills and is able to eventually doze off.

Meanwhile, Carter stands on the stairs for a long while, staring at the broken corpse of the bear.
"Goddammit," he mumbles under his breath.
In his pajamas, he wipes up the remains, triple bags them, and throws them outside. Reluctantly, he doesn't burn them; when he burned little zombie corpses on his recent night hunt, they would just attract more of the varmints.
Back inside, Carter washes up and went back upstairs to his bedroom, his mind in turmoil and lips moving. He argues quietly with himself.
"God, what in hell am I gonna do. I just can't leave the lodge. Aggie's buried here. I can't just leave her I can't... But those bastards are everywhere. Barely got back alive from my hunt... But how could I leave?"
With that out-loud thought, Carter crawls onto his bed and almost immediately fell asleep. It has been a hectic day, and the old man needs his sleep.

[Cainesland]

Orville made sure to shut off everything in his home, tv included, and locked his door behind him as he left his home. Probably for the last time. He climbed into his motorhome and put the key in the ignition and started to drive. He had already packed for a camping trip so he had plenty of stuff in the vehicle. A few cars were ahead of him but that was ok. About an hour went by and he arrived at the ferry. The few cars in front of him were admitted on, and soon after his rv was aboard the ferry he noticed that a bunch of people had started to amass behind and vehicles weren't being allowed on anymore. He considered it lucky he got on when he did.

Now that he was on the ferry he turned off the engine to save fuel. Opening the glovebox he took out a book and began to read. When he looked up, the 10 vehicles on the ferry had been consumed in a sea of people.

There was nothing outside the ship save open water and sunshine. Orville listened to his tunes from within his RV. He didn't dare get out for fear of people cramming into his RV. It wasn't long before the sight of the other side of the lake made itself known. The whole trip was probably an hour or so all in all. He even saw another Ferry travelling the other way. The other side of the lake seemed to be packed with people waiting for the ferry. Or he hoped they were people. When the ferry landed he prepped his RV for departure. A few other Cars left before him, and he drove full speed ahead after them. In his rear view mirror he saw the battle taking place between those fighting for a spot on the ferry and those trying to get off the ferry. The first thought that was in his mind was getting to his camping site. That thought quickly passed as he drove on. The other cars ahead of him had been stopped by a military blockade. A couple trucks sat there with about 15 soldiers. They were checking the people in the cars ahead for signs of illness. It looked like a random check. He saw one person get pulled aside already and other get directed forward. Soon it was his turn. He pulled up to the Checkpoint and 2 soldiers walked to his window. "Step out of the Vehicle" they demanded. He stepped out. Immediately they searched him for scratches or bites. Finding none they told him to blow into a device. Doing so he saw a green light light up on there device. He imagined it to be a Breathalyzer but it was a device to scan for illness. The soldiers then asked for identification. Orville showed him his registration, drivers license, Insurance, and City hall Identification. Finally the soldiers asked him where he was going. When he explained he was going camping they directed him to the fort. It didn't sound like a request. Orville nodded, collected his forms, and returned to his vehicle. It wouldn't be long before his arrival at fort Casey.