Walking Dead Chapter 1: Philadelphia (IC)

[BOS Capital Chapter]

I present to you.....

CHAPTER ONE: PHILADELPHIA

It has been 5 years since the Apocalypse hit.... 5 years of horror and death have left the entire would dead or scarred. Billions dead, and the remaining struggling to make it day to day, and most with little success.... but in the darkness, there are individuals, and groups, that have survived, that continue to survive to this day... there are their stories... this is their legacy....

Philadelphia....... a city torn apart from the Apocalypse. Streets are cluttered with cars, luggage, and Walkers... Travel on the street is suicide, but that doesn't stop survivors from finding ways to live in the city. Small groups live all over the city, underground or in buildings. In the underground, people fortify sewer lanes and water treatment areas, and in the buildings, people barricade doors to stairwells and live in the upper levels and roofs of buildings, leaving only to make way through the "Suicide Streets" as they are commonly called. Life in the city is hell. People die every day in the Urban area...

There are others that do not live in the city, but in towns, camps, or alone in houses and barns and motor homes. These people don't have as much of a Walker Threat as the Urban Survivors, but hardships are common. Food shortage, clans and groups fighting, etc, rip apart these survivors...

In this RP, you will play as a Urban, Suburban, Rural, or travelling survivor. ALL are full of hardship and death. You will meet other survivors, maybe you will kill them, be killed, or maybe, join forces and survive together. Its up to YOU, the survivor.... this is....


Rules:
*I am OP, my word is law
*No godmodding, this is Walking Dead keep it real
*I will control the Walkers as well as my character
*HAVE FUN, thats what this is about

OOC: viewtopic.php?f=31&t=297424&p=20217894#p20217894

[BOS Capital Chapter]

Shepard walked through the rubble of an old apartment building with James. Shepard was dressed in tan pants, a long sleeve black shirt, and carried an orange backpack, almost empty. He had a knife strapped to his right thigh, and an M1919 Pistol on his left hip. James was wearing a tight, short sleeved white short and blue, ripped jeans.

The 2 men came to a stairwell, which was locked. Shepard fiddled with the door a bit, then looked over at James. "Someone lives up there, we're not getting up there. Lets head back down". James stopped him. "Hold on a sec..." he wandered while approaching the door. He twiddled the nob again, then cranked it hard. POP! The door slid open. James gave Shepard a look. Shepard smiled. "Fuck off" he said, joking. Shepard pulled out his pistol, and checked the area. "Let's head up" he said.

The 2 made it up the stairs, and found an open door leading to the roof. There was a nice looking camp set up. Tents and a fireplace. A fridge, grill, weapons chest, the whole 9 yards. They heard the familiar sound of Walkers tearing through flesh. The 2 climbed up onto an AC Unit and looked out. There were 10 walkers ripping the flesh off of dozens of people. James sighed. "Poor bastards". Shepard jumped down and pulled out his knife and gun, holding it COD style. James jumped down as well. "We move together, only fire if you absolutely need to, understand?". James nodded.

Shepard and James pushed into the horde, stabbing the Walkers in the heads. It only took about a minute to clear them out. When the Walkers were dead, Shepard put away put knife and pistol. "Clear" he said. Shepard went over and examined the bodies. "These are fresh" he said, turning to James. "Can't be more than.... 2 hours old". James picked up a Desert Eagle and examined it. "Won't be needing this shit will they?". Shepard shook his head. "Pack everything that will fit into those big ass bags, we'll take 'em with. I'll put these bodies on a pile and burn them". Shepard started to drag the bodies into a corner, there were 24 combined. He said a prayer, and covered them in the oil found at their camp. "Shep, thought you were a Marine, not a fuckin' priest" James said laughing. Shepard looked over at him. "I don't believe in God, but looks like THEY did". Shepard pointed to a cross. "They would be happier with a prayer". James chuckled. "They're dead man, who gives a shit?". Shepard frowned at him. "I do".

The men took was left, and lit the bodies, then left for the Wolf's Nest...

[Elderowa]

Joe awoke in a sweat and a gasp. He had another nightmare of his sister being a zombie and killing him. Damn it, he thought to himself, looking away. He then rubbed his back; it was sore from always sleeping on the cold, hard material of roof tops. He'll just walk it off, like always. Slowly, he stood and stretched on the roof. He would need to be ready to run in case of anything. He peaked off the roof to the road below; desolate except for a few walkers, though not enough to be a real threat. Good, good, he thought to himself again, This will make my search easier. He picked up the bat he had put aside and picked up the gun, tucking it in his pants. With that, he started hopping from roof to roof, searching for anyone or anything of value to him...

[Goldsaver]

A walker moaned, shuffling about, one of his ankles dragging across the ground, moving down the hallway and never noticing the man hiding behind a half-opened door with a metal baseball bat. He rushed, coming upon the undead man just as it became aware of Mike's presence. A hard smack to the back of the head sprawled the walker out on the ground. A hard hit from above smashed its skull, the walker's second death signified by its rotting limbs falling limp. Mike searched the man, who was badly decayed and wearing a maintenance uniform. As he expected, he found a set of keys in the man's pocket. Hopefully, one of these could unlock the maintenance closet he knew was somewhere in the building.

Mike looked at his baseball bat, covered in blood and brain matter. There was a dent where it had hit the walker skull. He knew he was going to need a new melee weapon soon. He picked up his bow, which he had left leaning against a wall. He slid the bat into a small backpacking containing a day's supplies, as well as a pair of binoculars he used for scouting. The baseball bat hung most of the way out, available for easy retrieval if need be. A quiver with 20 arrows was strapped to his shoulder. His knife, which he used to skin animals and which he didn't want to be covered in walker blood, was in a sheath attached to his hip, a holstered pistol on the other side.

Having ensured this floor of the building was clear, Mike went to the outer edge of the floor, where a series of windows overlooked the city. He was in the a tall office building. Many of the windows had been busted out, and the building was in a clear state of disarray and decay. Mike wondered how long this building could stand without maintenance. He pulled his binoculars out and scanned the streets. Dozens of rotters were roaming the street, moving without any seeming direction or purpose. A few of them crawled on the ground, missing a leg or both. None of them, at a glance, matched the description of his friend.

Mike, satisfied that she was, at the very least, not one of the Walkers within his sight range, he moved to the staircase, withdrawing an arrow and placing it in a ready position, before cautiously ascending to the next floor. He chuckled to himself, remembering for the first time how much he missed elevators.

[BOS Capital Chapter]

A walker moaned, shuffling about, one of his ankles dragging across the ground, moving down the hallway and never noticing the man hiding behind a half-opened door with a metal baseball bat. He rushed, coming upon the undead man just as it became aware of Mike's presence. A hard smack to the back of the head sprawled the walker out on the ground. A hard hit from above smashed its skull, the walker's second death signified by its rotting limbs falling limp. Mike searched the man, who was badly decayed and wearing a maintenance uniform. As he expected, he found a set of keys in the man's pocket. Hopefully, one of these could unlock the maintenance closet he knew was somewhere in the building.

Mike looked at his baseball bat, covered in blood and brain matter. There was a dent where it had hit the walker skull. He knew he was going to need a new melee weapon soon. He picked up his bow, which he had left leaning against a wall. He slid the bat into a small backpacking containing a day's supplies, as well as a pair of binoculars he used for scouting. The baseball bat hung most of the way out, available for easy retrieval if need be. A quiver with 20 arrows was strapped to his shoulder. His knife, which he used to skin animals and which he didn't want to be covered in walker blood, was in a sheath attached to his hip, a holstered pistol on the other side.

Having ensured this floor of the building was clear, Mike went to the outer edge of the floor, where a series of windows overlooked the city. He was in the a tall office building. Many of the windows had been busted out, and the building was in a clear state of disarray and decay. Mike wondered how long this building could stand without maintenance. He pulled his binoculars out and scanned the streets. Dozens of rotters were roaming the street, moving without any seeming direction or purpose. A few of them crawled on the ground, missing a leg or both. None of them, at a glance, matched the description of his friend.

Mike, satisfied that she was, at the very least, not one of the Walkers within his sight range, he moved to the staircase, withdrawing an arrow and placing it in a ready position, before cautiously ascending to the next floor. He chuckled to himself, remembering for the first time how much he missed elevators.

Shepard looked up at just the right time, and saw the man in the window. He pointed at him, and James looked over. Shepard set down the largebag he had, and looked over at James. "Give me the M1 Carbine, I'm gunna go check that out...". James tossed the rifle. "I'm going with" he said confidently. "No" said Shepard. "Too much shit.... stay".

Shepardran, putting3 rounds into 3 walkers. It was loud, he had to have heard it in there. Shepard found himself getting chased. He fired 5 more times, then made it inside and slammed the door, rippingoff a Walker's hand. He locked the door and darted to the elevator, in use, oing up.... he ran into the stairwell, and hoped James was alive...

[Goldsaver]

Mike's slow ascent up the staircase was disturbed by the sound of several gunshots firing in the distance. Quickly, Mike moved back down the stairs, going back to the windows as he heard more gunshots. He looked at the window, and grunted as his worst fears were confirmed. The Walkers, before moving randomly and without purpose, were now converging on the building, drawn by the gun-fire. His thought process was interrupted by the sound of a pained moan coming down the staircase.

A Walker tumbled down, smashing on the floor before Mike. Without a thought, Mike dropped his bow and pulled out his bat, smashing the rotter in the head as it began to stumble up. Two hits to the head sent the Walker back to the ground, and a final blow caved in its skull. Mike retrieved his bow, and began to move up the staircase.
On the 23rd floor. 27 more to get to the roof...
He paused, hearing distant footsteps on the metal staircase. He had to move fast. He pulled out the maintenance keys, looking for some kind of sign on where the closet was. Each key was labeled with a number; he figured they unlocked a maintenance closet on its respective floor. The closest floor labeled was 25.

He moved up the stairs quietly, trying to avoid being heard by whoever was coming up. He couldn't risk the guy being a raider. His focus was interrupted by another walker tumbling down the stairs. Startled, he let out a frightened shout, but quickly silenced himself. With his free hand, he quickly drew his pistol and shot the Walker in the head as it rose up. With stealth no longer an option, he darted up the stairs, until he reached the entrance to the 25th floor.

[BOS Capital Chapter]

Shepard came across the dead walker, and examined it. Caved in skull, by bat. It was fresh, only a few minutes old. He heard loud footsteps above him, and went on a sprint, tripping a few times. His M1 Carbine was ready to fire at all times, but he moved quickly at the same time. He passed floor after floor, paying no mind to the walkers trying to get through.

Shepard was so exhausted, he just wanted to rest, but wanted to find this guy, catch him. He heard a door slam, and the echo attracted walkers, but they couldn't get up the stairs. Shepard reached to top, and burst through the door, seeing a man running. He aimed his rifle at the man. "STOP!" he yelled...

[Goldsaver]

"Shit."
Mike holstered his pistol, turning around to face the man with his hands up, his left hand gripped around the body of his bow.

"You gonna kill me? Take my shit? If so, I'd prefer we get this over quickly. If you have better intentions, then I suggest you lower your rifle. I'm just a guy looking for his friend. I don't mean harm to you or anyone you might be caring for. Those shots you fired? Probably drawing every walker within a mile to the doors of this building. Soon they'll be piling up these stairs. It'll take a long time for them to actually reach us, but once they breach those ground doors, we won't be able to get out of this building. So, I suggest you save your questions. There's a dead-bolted door in the back on the ground floor, and there's a maintenance closet on this floor. I'm going to grab a crowbar, then we're going to run back down those stairs, and we're going to slip out the back and make a run for it. Now, uh, if you have a problem with that course of action, then I suggest you either pull that trigger or turn your ass around and let me go. Name's Mike, by the way. A pleasure to meet you."

[BOS Capital Chapter]

Shepard lowered his rifle. "I'm not here to kill you. I saw you alone, seemed like you needed help. I have a group, 6 people, over in Center City, a sewer maintenance area". Shepard closed the door. "Names Shepard. We can talk later, I have a friend down in that hell". Shepard looked down. "Holy fucknuggets they're everywhere. Where is he?". Shepard sees James, hiding, but behind him there's a walker, he doesn't notice. The walker comes down on top of him, sinking it's teeth into his neck. "JAMES!" Shepard yells.

Shepard is pissed. "You're with me now. Let's go".

[Elderowa]

As Joe was walking from roof top to roof top, he began to hear noises from a few buildings away. As he got closer, he heard a loud door slam. Shit, he thought, Some retard is trying to get Walkers into this street! Then he heard someone yell "Freeze!"

When he finally got close enough, but hiding behind the entrance to the roof, he saw 2 men pointing guns at each other. Great, more idiots killing each other... He sat there, hiding from them, listening to their conversation...

[Goldsaver]

"Don't want to make sure your friend doesn't become...one of them? I'll grab the crowbar, if you want to...ensure he doesn't become a rotter."
Mike jogged over to the maintenance office, pushing the keys into the door. The keyhole was rusted, and it took a lot of force to force the key into the hole; he managed to force it in, and with another great force turned the key, opening the door to see another figure.

Another walker in a maintenance uniform, a rope hung around his neck suspending him a foot off the ground, a chair fallen underneath him. It didn't take much thought to figure out what happened. The Walker, seeing food for the first time, reached out and moaned towards Mike; Mike smashed the helpless Walker's skull with his bat.

He saw the crowbar, thrown on the ground in front of an open locker. Mike scanned through, seeing a large number of keys. He noticed a USB flash drive at the bottom of the locker, which he quickly pocketed, before leaving the room with the crowbar in hand.

[Elderowa]

What's going on in there? Joe thought to himself. He heard violence erupt in there, and fearing the worst, seized his opportunity to leave. He ran from roof to roof the way he came. He knew soon other Walkers would be attracted to all the noise near this place. In a matter of minutes this street could become infested...

[Icamera]

Crunch. Derek swallowed the last of the bag of chips he had pilfered from the previous residents' pantry. Sometimes, he felt a bit guilty about looting the abandoned apartments like this, as if their owners' ghosts were staring him down with each mouthful of bread, each bite of apple, each sip of water. Whenever those pangs hit, Derek had to convince himself that that was all they probably were now, ghosts, murdered by those... things. "Lamebrains", he'd overheard a few troops back at the government camp mutter to one another.

Derek tossed the bag into a trash can examined the set of knives next to the now-useless sink, wiping grease from the silver blade of the largest one with his t-shirt. He didn't like thinking about the camp, not since he had so rashly decided to leave its safety, to leave his parents, in pursuit of his missing brother. Back then, he'd thought he could somehow avoid the lamebrains, as if the government, military, and millions of faceless (metaphorically and literally) Philadelphians hadn't tried and failed to do just that. Just sneak past them, run silently to his brother's dorm, and find him without any trouble. So much for that, Derek sighed in his mind. A pack of lamebrains had converged on him about three seconds after he'd entered the city. Thank God he'd found that bicycle, even if he'd had to abandon it halfway through.

Crunch. Cautiously, Derek stepped through the broken glass from the toppled cabinet he had laid in front of the apartment door, ears and eyes alert for lamebrains. He hated leaving the security of the room, but he hated hunger more, and he knew he had to scrounge together some more sustenance if he was to have enough energy to scout the campus. The open doors meant an opportunity to find supplies, yes, but they also meant greater risk. It was a good thing he had knives now.

Fortunately, the small, two-bedroom apartment appeared to be entirely free of human presence, dead or undead. Unfortunately, the barren cupboards seemed to indicate that the someone had already grabbed it all during their flight from the city. Still, Derek lingered, hoping to find something of use. There were some clothes, in which he took little interest, noticing that all were far too small; there were books, which mostly appeared to be technical works of no entertainment or practical value; and there was a drawstring bag, whose emptiness Derek lamented but which he kept nevertheless. Just as he was about to leave and check another room, Derek spied a long, dark shadow beneath the bed.

For a moment, Derek's heart raced, fearing that the form was a corpse. Or worse yet, a lamebrain that hadn't sensed him yet. Then, he recognized the familiar contour of a baseball bag. Derek pulled the bag out, examined its contents, and made his first useful find of the day: two 32-ounce bottles of Gatorade, a half-full bag of sunflower seeds, three granola bars, and an aluminum bat. With a sense of satisfaction, Derek shoved the drawstring bag into the larger bag, hefted it onto his back, and exited the room.

---

Crunch. At the end of the hallway, a lone walker's teeth cracked through human bone. The walker continued its loud, messy feast uninterrupted for several minutes, fresh blood coating its soulless face. Suddenly, the walker lifted its head, sensing the presence of something else. Slowly, it turned around and rose from the floor...

[OOC: You've got control of the walkers, BOS, so here's where you come in!]

[BOS Capital Chapter]

After a long, harsh trek down dozens of flights of stairs, Mike and I looked out the glass window hundreds of walkers pressed on the glass. Hard to believe they were people like you and me. Some wore suits, others police uniforms. I sighed. "Mike, take this". I threw the M1 Carbine to him. I saw a door, no walkers near it. I looked him in the eye. "I'll go out there, get their attention. When they are on me, run across the street to James' body. Get the bags, go to the 3rd floor. If I don't show, keep it all, use it to find your friend, understand?". At that time.... I only thought of Ash......

[Goldsaver]

Mike nodded.
"Ok, but I'm not coming back to this building. I will find the closest shelter I can, and I will meet you at my campsite on the outskirts of the city..."
Mike motioned in that direction.
"If I can make it back, I will wait two days for you to find your way there. You don't make it by then, I'll move on."
He readied the rifle.
"Go when you're ready; I'll head out when the Horde is on you, ensure your friend doesn't rise up, grab the bags, and book it to the nearest shelter that hasn't attracted the attention of the Horde. You got a pistol? If worse comes to worse, then I would suggest ending it on your own terms instead of letting yourself become one...of them. Good luck."

[BOS Capital Chapter]

"You must not fucking get it.... James is dead. Get the shit from THAT building, and then go to the 3rd floor of the same building".

[Goldsaver]

Mike sighed and nodded.
"Fine. Now go."

[Elderowa]

After a couple hours of running and roof jumping, Joe was on the outskirts of the city. He felt it safe to stop and relax, for he was out of breath. However, he realized that after all that running, he was starving. I need to find food, fast, he thought to himself...

[Icamera]

Derek's heart drummed forcefully against the inside of his chest. He knew he'd need to prepare himself for another lamebrain encounter, but he'd hoped it wouldn't be this soon. Steeling himself against the paralysis of fear, Derek gripped the largest of the two knives in his pockets, knuckles as pale as the lamebrain's rotted skin, and waited for the creature to approach. Step by shambling step, the walker made its way down the hall toward the fresh meat, a scratching growl rolling from the depths of its throat.

Derek closed his eyes and stabbed. Then he opened his eyes and stabbed again, then a third time, then several more times. Still, the raspy growl persisted and the thing's limbs continued flailing at him. Derek gave the lamebrain a firm kick to the abdomen and looked at his handiwork: its chest was a patchwork of deep gashes and dark, crimson stains, more than enough to kill an ordinary man, yet it remained alive. No, alive wasn't the right word; but it was still moving, still hunting, still physically capable of killing. That had to change, and fast. A prolonged struggle would only make noise and attract more of them.

Hurriedly, before it could reorient itself, Derek unzipped the narrow pocket at the top of his bag and pulled out the red -3 DeMarini inside. Holding it in front of him, perpendicular to his chest, Derek poked the lamebrain hard and sent it back to the floor. While it was still vulnerable, he began swinging haphazardly, aiming for the legs and arms to incapacitate the walker. Even so, the bloody, shattered femurs and smashed, useless hands did nothing to quench the spark of undead life in its... head.

Yes, the head! Derek realized. Of course! What else could keep that thing's nervous system running, if not the brain? Derek felt a brief sense of gratitude that he'd always been a power hitter than a small-ball kind of guy back on the high school team. His average may have hovered around the low .200s, and he may have struck out swinging more often than the rest... but now, with these larger, slower-moving targets, all that mattered was how much force he could put behind the swing.

---

Crunch. The walker's skull cracked, leaving a dark stain on the wall behind it.

Just like tee ball, Derek mused.

[BOS Capital Chapter]

Mike sighed and nodded.
"Fine. Now go."

Shepard pulled out his pistol, stood, and slammed out of the door. "Hey Fagbags! You look like fucking roadkill!". The horde turned and began limping towards him, but Shepard motioned for Mike to stay. Shepard backed up about 20 stepps, then hit something cold and metal. He turned to look.... it was a TANK! He shot the nearest walkers, and climbed up, to the 50 cal. "Hope this thing still works!" he yelled. He cocked the MG, and pulled the trigger, sending a wall of death to the walkers. They began to drop like flies, but got closer. He nodded to Mike.

[Krytonus]

Rory wiped the sweat from his forehead as he collected the rainwater from the many buckets he kept on the roof. he could see almost the whole city from up here. It had been a good past month. He had barely needed to leave the penthouse. Things were going well. Walkers were dispersing too. That was good. As long as nobody did anything stupid, soon th-
Boom.
Damn it.

Still, it could be worse. He was safe up here, and a gunshot couldn't do all that much harm. It's not like a ta-
BOOM!
That was a tank. Someone was using a tank. That's it, he was going down there.

Rory rushed out the doors of the building wielding a baseball bat with his backpack and shotgun slung along his back. A pistol hung in a holster by his side, and he pushed his top hat up. A crowd of Walkers shuffled around the tank while what seemed like a crazed marine laid onslaught upon them. Another survivor stood alongside, looking confused.
"Are you people crazy?!" Rory shouted as more hordes of Walkers shuffled towards the point of action. He swung his bat into the face of a young man who seemed nice, bar the missing jaw and dead eyes. "You're gonna attract every Walker in Philadelphia!"

[Elderowa]

As Joe continued his hunt for food; Boom. A loud noise emanated from near his position. He walked towards the noise, and eventually he saw a tank with two survivors near it. One of the survivors was yelling about the noise. Obviously he wasn't a part of that group.

With the destraction of the tank, Joe decided to go into the building he was standing on. The noise would attract the walkers, and he would be able to get whatever he could in the building to eat. It was a two floor building, and looked like it was meant to house a small family. As he broke a window and entered the building, he saw pictures of the family; a White, 30-ish looking man with green eyes, dark blonde hair and a goatee, a Tan Woman with black hair and blue eyes, and a little girl with the dark blonde hair of her dad. Obviously they had abandoned the house, as a lot of the house had been emptied. Dammit, another empty house! He thought to himself. Lucky for him though, he did find a few things in the cupboard on the first floor in the Kitchen; Saltine Crackers and some canned peaches. Well, better then nothing, Joe thought to himself, as he took the Crackers and the Peaches. The Crackers where stale; really stale, but Joe was too hungry to care. And since Joe didn't have a Can opener on him, he would have to carry the Canned Peaches with him.

[BOS Capital Chapter]

Shepard bought time for Mike, and when the gun was empty, he slunk inside the tank, locking himself inside. He stabbed a dead Marine in the head, and sat down. He could hear the Walkers banging on the outside. He opened a large chest, and saw Marine gear. He took a few minutes but put it all on. He tried to start it, but it was dead. He prayed Mike would help...

[Goldsaver]

As soon as Sheppard nodded, Mike took off, running for the building Sheppard had directed him to. The Walkers were going to the very noisy tank, ignoring Mike as he snuck to Jame's body. Seeing Sheppard was now locked inside the tank, Mike took the time to ensure that this man didn't join the Horde. Taking the butt of the rifle given to him, Mike smashed against the corpse's skull, hitting it again and again until finally the skull cracked over, coating the butt of the rifle in blood and brain matter.

With that done, Mike ran into the building he was directed to, grabbing the bags of supplies. He turned to the tank; a horde of Rotters had surrounded in, pounding in every direction. There was no way they could hope to breach the Tank's armor. Still, if they didn't move on, Sheppard was trapped in there.

He ascended the building's staircase, most of the Walkers having cleared out to move towards the sound of rapid gunfire. He reached the third floor, and set down his rifle. He stood over a smashed window, keeping a line of sight on the Herd surrounding the tank. He couldn't hope to even put a dent in them. Either Sheppard would have to wait for the Herd to move on, or someone would have to create a louder distraction to draw them away. He searched the bags of supplies that he retrieved, hoping that perhaps there might be something- a grenade, perhaps- that could be useful in his attempt to create a distraction.

[Icamera]

Boom. Derek stopped organizing his scavenged goods and swerved his head toward the thundering noise. Immediately, he weighed the implications of that sounds; whoever had made it, they had access to some major firepower. That, or they'd accidentally (or purposely) ignited a pile of gasoline barrels or some other volatile substance. Derek's first instinct was to inspect the source of the boom, but then he paused for a moment. Surely, every lamebrain within several blocks' radius had heard it as well. Besides making it nearly impossible for him to approach the person or group responsible for it without getting torn apart, it would also draw lamebrains away from the campus, giving him the perfect opportunity to search for his brother.

Bat in hand, knives ready at the waist, and bags in tow, Derek crept downstairs, pushed his makeshift blockade to the side just enough for him to slip through the entrance door, and left the apartment. An empty road greeted him, though a quick glance down Broad Street showed a few lamebrains shuffling toward Center City along the flag-lined sidewalks. Silently, eyes pried for any signs of walker activity, Derek crept past a gas station plastered with crude "All Out" signs scribbled on cardboard with a sharpie and continued forward.

At the next intersection, however, there remained several lamebrains. Fearing his chances of survival against so many, Derek slowly backed away. Perhaps he could loop around and find a safer route on 15th Street. Then, one moaning walker stumbled over the curb, fell on its side, and saw Derek. Its guttural hiss increased in volume as it stood and started toward its prey, causing the others to follow suit.

Derek swallowed hard, tightened his grip on the dented bat, and stormed forward. His first swing dipped below its target, nailing the lamebrain in the neck. It crumpled to the ground, still biting and snarling but paralyzed from the shoulders down; evidently, the strike had broken some spinal nerve or something. Derek didn't hesitate to ponder anatomy, though; he raised his bat high into the air and brought it down hard on the next lamebrain with a yell, killing it. The impact, like a ground ball off the edge of the barrel, stung so badly that the bat fell from Derek's hands to the road with a dull, hollow clatter.

To buy himself enough time to crouch down and pick it up again, Derek grabbed the nearest walker by the shoulders and threw it to the side -- but not before it had the chance to gnash its yellow teeth just inches from his nose. Panicked by the close call, Derek forgot about the bat, returning to his senses only just in time to yank out his knife and stab a lamebrain in the forehead. This time, he had the wits to pick up his bat, lying next to the stabbed walker's corpse. Two more closed in, one from each side.

With clenched teeth, Derek jogged backwards a few feet and decided to target the one on his right. He reared back, swung, and with a loud thunk, the lamebrain was no more. Derek glanced at the bat for half a second, unable to determine the difference between the metallic red paint and the wet blood covering its barrel. His hands were stinging again. The pain was not as bad as before, but they were trembling much harder, as if the vibration of the metal had not quite died down yet.

Just one more, just one more... Derek growled to himself. He curled his fingers back around the handle, rotated his arms back to his right shoulder, and slayed the final walker.

Survival be damned, Derek collapsed to his knees, leaned back, squeezed his eyes shut, and lay in the middle of the street. His hands were still shaking.