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OUTBREAK: A Survival RP | OUTBREAK (2017)
(Banner by Hastur.)
T H E M E
•|[ Map of Chicago ]|•
Millions have been infected,
the victims of a new plague unlike anything before witnessed in the history of mankind.
A deadly contagion that, withing weeks, has brought the most powerful nation to its knees.
Quarantine has long since failed;
countless have died, and many more have been consumed by the ravage of illness.
Others have suffered a worse fate.
Now, in the aftermath of ruin, a new dawn is soon upon us.
For those fortunate enough to have survived, by fate or sheer determination, things will never be the same.
No help is coming.
No safety exists.
Will you, a survivor in the twilight of human civilization, discover the truth of out death;
or will you succumb to the infection?
DAY 25
Saturday, August 13, 2016
69°F (21°C) - Cloudy
SAMANTHA TALLOW
Liz's Pet Shop, Chicago
The girl had spent the night sleeping in a dog's kennel. Admittedly, it was quite comfortable, more-so than a regular bed what with the abundance of blankets and soft bedding, and while not for the claustrophobic the plastic walls did give a much needed sense of safety when outside there was none to be found. There was even a restroom nearby with functional plumbing! Had there been food the girl could maybe justify staying a bit longer, but, no matter how safe or comfortable she was, there were more pressing concerns that had to be addressed before the coming day was out.
Namely, finding her father.
Her father was a CFO for a multinational corporation and had been in the United States on business. Samantha, his only daughter, had accompanied him as she had many times before when not in school. They had been on their way to the airport to leave for home when the attacks happened, although it wasn't until much later that the girl was privileged to the knowledge of just how bad the situation had become, and by then it was already too late. Her father, however, was optimistic even as civilization fell to pieces around them, but if he truly was hopeful, or else lying for the sake of his beloved daughter, Samantha would never know. He'd never tell. As for where he was now, the night before yesterday they had been separated by those things while attempting to find a safe passage out of the city. They had a plan, a place to meet-up should something like this occur, but given the state of the city it had been a slow and difficult journey for the girl, especially so as her disability forced her to be more considerate of her surroundings. Still, she couldn't be too far now, and no doubt her father was awaiting her. Maybe his optimism had worked in the end.
Samantha crawled out from the kennel and stretched, feeling a bit exposed in the darkened store but otherwise having no cause for alarm. The pet store had escaped the devastation caused by the riots and subsequent looting. A broken window and a slight mess in one aisle, but the registers and safe looked to be locked, and, better still, no animals were sold here, meaning that Samantha could explore without contending with the thought of having to find those poor creatures dead in their cages. (A few unfortunate goldfish were floating bottoms-up in cloudy water but that was the worse of it.) A thorough search of the store had turned up nothing of use or importance, a discarded adjustable wrench being the most of it, and after doing her best to lock the door to the manager's office she had fashioned herself a bed for the night. Now it was simply a matter of making certain she had everything before leaving.
Her backpack was sitting atop the kennel and hadn't been touched. A paranoid thought to be sure but one couldn't be too careful given all that had happened in the past few weeks. Inside it were some granola bars, a portable radio (which was useless to her), a flashlight with spare batteries, a sketchpad, and some spare clothing. Samantha considered changing into something more fresh. Her T-shirt and leggings were dirty, and she'd gone longer than she'd like without changing her underwear. She could also use a shower if she was at all honest with herself. It had been almost a week now and she was entirely self-conscious about her less-than-pleasant body odor. The grime was bothering her.
Throwing a blanket inside with the wrench she'd found, Samantha zipped up, slid the backpack over her shoulder, and cautiously made her way out from the little office. The empty store greeted her. She made a quick round through the aisles, mindful of the glass, before detouring to the restroom. She washed her face and stared at her reflection for a moment. Blue-green eyes stared back. Her hair was tangled, limp, and somehow less blond than it had been a few days ago. Her smile was crooked and in need of a toothbrush.
CVS. There was a pharmacy nearby, attached to the pet store but on the opposite side of the block. A toothbrush and deodorant.
Samantha nodded to herself, finding no harm in delaying her search for a minute or two so as to attend to some personal needs. She set off for the storefront, pausing to consider a can of dog food, eyeing it for a long moment as her stomach growled in support of such a desperate idea. Unsure of whether she could even eat such foodstuffs, she passed and promised herself to search the pharmacy for food as well. A snack would do.
Just a little while longer.
The front of the store was mostly intact other than the aforementioned window. That aside, it looked almost ready to open for business for the day. Inviting compared to the devastation of outside. The street was desolate and more than a bit foreboding. Not as bad as downtown had been, but Samantha was reluctant nonetheless to leave the safety of the pet shop, Liz's Pet Shop according to the sign, an unusual beacon of safety in a sea of troubles. Steeling herself, she stepped up to the broken window, glass shards cracking unknowingly beneath her feet, and slowly peered outside like a meerkat poking its head up from a burrow. Nothing but the lonely echo of what had once been. Cautious, she emerged from the store and took stock of her situation.
She wasn't very confident in herself, but, regardless, she had to push ahead. She'd come this far so she allowed her father's optimism to give her hope and thus determination, and slowly she made her way down the street towards the intersection, eyes wide and alert for any danger that may well sneak up upon her. The only lasting concern was if she was heading in the right direction. Samantha couldn't see Willis Tower from here.
Maybe the CVS would have a map. She'd check and go from there. One problem at a time.
DEAD AIR RADIO — 107.1 FM
"Good morning Chicago!
This is Mr. Dead Air, and for those of you just now tuning in this is 107.1 FM, Dead Air Radio, bringing you the latest news and music because, and let's be honest here, the apocalypse sucks, absolutely, totally, dreadfully boring with a capital 'B,' so allow me to make it a little less so. It is my privileged, no, my honor in being your ultra-fabulous host.
Looking outside I see clouds so expect a cloudy day. Slight chance of rain. Maybe. What do I know? The weatherman's dead out back so your guess is as good as mine. Now, for the daily news. Let's see here. Yeah, everything is still dead as fuck. No change-"
. . .
"Yeah, I can say whatever I want to. Who's gonna stop me? The FCC? Hah!
Sorry folks. A technical difficulty on my end. Nothing to say, so let's get on with the tunes. Alright, so, what do we have for your listening pleasure. Junk. Garbage. Absolute garbage. I apologize, but my selection at the moment is slim to fuck-all. Hey, if you, my darling listeners, come across any spare CDs, cassettes, or 8-tracks, feel free to bring 'em down to the station. Ah! A little old, but I feel that it suits our inaugural broadcast just nicely. Here's The End of the World by R.E.M. Enjoy."