Hit the Road Jack- Zombie Apocalypse.

The country – the whole country – was declared under siege of war at noon. Martial law was put into play the following hour. By the time night fell, most everyone was dead. And the months, days, hours leading up to it all never gave even the slightest hint as to the bad that was brewing. It was peaceful. Confusion had actually swept itself over the nation and the newscasters’ expressions when talk of wartime on the home soil came forth. It was so peaceful. The military-every-things flooded in a locked down the borders, each state, and all the buildings. It had been so fucking, creepy, oddly peaceful.

Maybe that was the warning; the still before the storm; that half-a-second after the match has been struck, but just before the flame ignites. Then it is inevitable. Then it is too fast to stop it, and too fast to react.

Then all of the sudden, these hundreds of thousands of dead became… undead… and the real war began.

It's been a year since the Infection first broke out. It's been a year. A year of Hell. It's getting harder and harder to send anyone out anymore. We saved so much gasoline when we first moved into the compound, and now it's almost gone. The bus is the closest thing we have to an armored car, so it's the safest thing to go out in to find supplies.

Locations:

Woods: The woods are plentiful and deep. The trees sing in the wind. And it’s almost peaceful here. Of course, the thick trunks and foliage can present a problem with finding the undead, but maybe it works both ways. The strong scent of nature covers human scent a little bit, so if you are upwind, or there is no wind at all, you are safe. The wood is strong for building and dry for fires. Squirrels chitter here.

River: The river comes from the north, actually cutting through part of Asylum and touching the edge of the Hub, but it’s presence it the best felt in The Still. The river is wide and fast, and ample salmon swim here. The water is fresh, unless the dead get into it upstream. One time, in Asylum, the people burned the dead and threw the ashes in the river, and Reverend’s wife got sick and died.

Abandoned Compound:- On the edge of the woods, away from the city – in fact, I’m not even sure if the city folk knows the compound is there, or the survivors would know about the compound – there is a little haven. It has a dusty kitchen and bed, and is good for an longer stay, maybe even to live in. It's fenced in, and underground, so it makes for a decent plan to keep zombies out. There is fresh water that runs to it, and electricity. That is about it.

"You fucking morons don't GET IT," he started screaming. He shouted it over and over, probably about five times, until everyone was quiet. Well, of course, if there was anyone out here in the woods that could hear him. Was he alone? Tweak never understood the silence except maybe that break where there had been a walker, a crawler, whatever the hell ever wanted to call them. Now, Tweak was a known caffeine junkie, and he was always skittish around here.  He would jump at the littlest of things, and sometimes got straight into a panic attack.

"There is nothing out there. Your families are probably dead, if they're lucky. The Infected are all over the fucking country. I'm still clinging to an idea that I'll probably make it home and everything will be okay. But reality is, New York is probably dead. I'll probably be dead in a few months, too. So you should all face the goddamned truth. This is the end of the fucking world. We're all fucking doomed."  

There he was again, freaking out about nothing, or maybe it was because he was out in the woods, trekking through foliage to make it back to the compound. Why did he even volunteer to take on a scouting duty today, there was nothing out here. At least, that would be what he thought.

It'd been a while since Noah had been on the hunt for game that could out match, out wit, and out maneuver anything he'd stalked during his tour in Africa. Man. The deadliest predator turned prey. At any moment the stranger ambling through the thickets of trees, mumbling to himself, could turn and end it all. Thankfully years of training in the USMC had prepared him for these moments of strain on the body and mind. Quiet now, be aware. Each twig and leaf could be the thing that gave away his position only a few meters behind the survivor.

It was nothing personal, it was staying alive in a world destroyed by a deadly plague, and now run by the reanimated carcasses of the infected; dog eat dog. The stranger had come from a compound Noah didn't know existed at the fringes of the woodland and he didn't appear armed, but if his time in the Middle East taught him anything there could be a bomb strapped to his belly beneath his clothing, or an uzi tucked away in the waist of his pants. Even a well placed knife was a threat.

Noah tucked himself against a tree and unshouldered his bow, nocked it and pulled the string taunt over its over sized cams. Sure, he could've torn the guy in half with one round from the Barrett .50 cal strapped to his back, or slit his throat with the Ka-Bar sheathed on his chest, but when stalking a survivor it wasn't smart to get that close or make that much noise when a group of walkers, or worse could be lurking nearby. Cold brass colored eyes fixed on his mark as he continued to move further and further through the green, vanishing into and pushing out of shadowed spots where sunlight could not pierce the canopy.

His breathing slowed, and grip relaxed on the bow preparing to catch it when he released the arrow. The world around him blurred and it was just him and the prey now with his back turned to the predator haunting the forest. Even the squirrels and birds had fallen silent as if to watch the steadfast lurker with his weapon drawn, and the twitchy spaz a few paces out. Was this going to be the final breath for one of them?

Time had been a real bitch, letting up none on Markus as he had been camping within the forest for the past year. He had some close calls at times yes. But the pure luck he was blessed with to be alive this day he couldn't help but to pray for and yet curse. The replays of the first signs of infection, and his history of watching all of those fucking zombie movies, he knew exactly what was coming next. He couldn't help but to freak out and move away from the city. It was bound to be the first thing to fall, and he was not going to go down in such a manner.

The tweets and chirps of birds and the other animals was a nice symphony for the young little 17 year-old as he was making his usual rounds through the forest today. Why was he doing this? Simply just looking for food. Some sort of sustenance to keep him driving forward. The wildlife around here had been a bit of a risk for him to eat, but he had to take a couple precautions in somehow burning the meats and making sure the infection was incinerated. Charred meat does not usually taste good, but he would do with it.

Then he heard it. The loudmouth screaming apparently throughout the damned forest. What the hell was the guy thinking? And so careful steps took the adventurer a bit closer, hiding within the brush of a bush about twenty yards from the screaming man.

"....." There were no words to say about this as Markus was a bit worried for this man. There was no one around for him to really converse with. Was there something wrong with him? Pulling forth what looked to be a throwing dagger from the arsenal of knives upon his belt line, Markus began to prepare himself for anything. He didn't want to waste any of the ammo he had left with his Colt .45, and he had only two clips left for his Beretta M951. He had to conserve until he could find a good place to replenish.

But for now, he had a feeling the dagger was all he needed, as he kept to hiding himself and avoiding the confrontation until he could see if any of the infected were around.

Twigs had snapped, and it had brought Tweak to just panic. Had it worked? His plan? He looked around, silenced and fidgety. He closed his eyes, just as a walker came out of the foliage right in front of him. Tweak had a horrifying truth, one he was testing. Swallowing hard, he opened his eyes as the walker moved towards him. 'Not yet, Not yet.' He thought. There was a reason he was waiting, but why? Why was he not killing the walker coming at him? Tweak had begun to breath heavily. The compound was just over the hill, and there was the reason.

Tweak wasn't sent on a scouting mission, he was sent out as bait. He needed to lure a walker back to the compound for that fuck face inside. Oh, Tweak, why do you get yourself in these messes. He took a step backwards, watching where he walked as he lured it back to the compound. He wanted to kill it, but he couldn't. But, alas, nothing ever could go smoothly. Tweak tripped over a root from a tree. He fell backwards and the walker was coming right upon him as it descended on a fall upon him. He screamed loudly, and being the chicken shit he was at times, Tweak struggled to keep the walker from biting him. He used his free head to reach down to grasp his Bowie, and it wasn't there!

"Oh, fuck sake's. God damn it, stop your biting for a moment."

Tweak finally shoved the walker off him, and looked around til his sight fell upon the Bowie just a few feet away. He scrambled to it, and picked it up. Only then did he realized there were about 3 more walkers coming towards him, and he was backed into a tight spot.

This dumbshit had backed himself into a corner. What was he doing? The thought of this guy becoming the next piece of zombie meat had Markus growling under his breath. He couldn't stand for such stupidity, and he was going to let the kid learn a bit more... As he lived. 'Never be a hero,' was one of his golden rules. A nice little tip from the beginning of Zombieland. But he had to break it as he remembered the bullshit about the clown at the end. The kid seemed scared shitless. And no one, by Markus' judgment seemed to be around.

The grip on the throwing dagger seemed to loosen a bit before a jumping Markus went to toss the thing at the head of the undead closest to the terrified kid. It was only a split second move that Markus happily recovered from by ducking back under the brush. He knew the kid was too freaked out, most likely, by the damned monsters before him to take his eyes off of them for a second. Dammit. Even less ammunition now. One less dagger, he thought as he recovered another from his belt. So now he was down to eleven. And most likely would have to wait to get the other one in his set back. That was, IF he was getting it back.

Looking to the blade of his newer weapon now, he took note of the small dragon engraved into it. These were his pride and joys. He knew one other thing that could help this situation. He yelled out.

"Hey kid! I will lead these things away! You keep my dagger for me! Imma get it when I come back."

And then Markus was off with a flailing of his arms.

(xDDD Sorry. Couldn't help it.)

Noah watched with cold calculation. Had it been coincidence that he hadn't taken the shot, or fate? No, it was happenstance. He didn't believe in fate. Swiftly, but quietly, the bow was lowered and he scrunched further against the tree, watching the boy in the bush and the walker ambush tumble over each other as they struggled to decide which sack of meat they wanted to rip apart first. It was blatantly obvious that the spazzy one was zed-head bait, but who gave him the orders?

He flicked a glance the way of the flailing dweeb bounding off into the forest, probably into a whole herd of undead. Well, at least tearing that one limb from limb would keep them busy, giving Noah time to stalk the screamer back to his head quarters. Quickly he shouldered his bow and slipped the arrow back into his quiver before dropping into a crouch where he watched the loud man, waited for him to lead the way back. Was it a bad idea to follow him right into what could be a potentially well-armed and well-manned building out in the middle of nowhere without back up? Of course it was, but Noah had had time to get a general idea of the landscape, and he was sure he could quickly, and easily find a vantage point to pick them all off before being stormed by zombies.

On the other hand where there were three there were more laying in wait, or on their way and the two idiots had made enough noise to draw the whole damn forest in on them. Holding back an irritated sigh Noah pulled his 9mm from his thigh holster and screwed the suppressor onto the end. He didn't intend to use it unless absolutely necessary; in this day and age ammunition was hard to come by and the ingredients needed to make it even more a rarity. Luckily as a professional sniper for the military, before all the shit hit the fan, conservation of supplies had been basically beaten into his skull. Not much of a choice when nested in your own shit, baking in a ghillie suit, for up to 90 hours waiting for the high priority targets to rear their heads only to have them destroyed like watermelons at a Gallagher show.

With the gun silenced, loaded and cocked Noah kept his eyes pinned to the target, but the walkers always in his peripheral as he waited for the man to lead him along.

Something went whirring past his head, and that walker dropped. Tweak nearly shrieked, but remained silent. There was nothing more he could do until he looked up and saw the guy running off flailing his arms like a retard at a Disney convention. Tweak wasted no time, he grabbed that blade and hauled ass back towards the compound. He would certainly catch hell for not coming back with a walker. But, hey, it was only him and that Doctor guy in the compound. - After a moment, he came upon the fence to the compound's door. He fiddled with keys after replacing his Bowie back in the sheath upon his hip. Soon after, he opened the gate and closed the gate behind him. Should he leave it open for the flailing man? No. Dr. Stevenson would have a cow if he did that. Oh, how many times has Tweak thought about just killing Stevenson, the man was horrible.

Instead, Tweak locked the gate and sat there waiting. Maybe the guy would come back around this way. The least he could do was open the gate and give the guy refuge for saving his ass back there. So, he sat on the compound door, a steel slab that was covered in roots, grass, and dirt to camouflage it. Tweak was just a simple henchman, luring walkers in everyday for experiments. Sometimes he would lure a group of breathers [What the doctor called living people] into the compound to be fed to the walkers. His conscience was getting to him about it, and just how much longer would it be before the doctor turned on him? He had to make a decision soon. Kill the doctor, or run off? Well, he couldn't get very far without supplies, and the gun locker was under lock and key. So, running off was useless right now. God damn it. Why did he have to be such a coward?

"I have to do it, I can't keep doing this for him." He whispered, before getting up and pacing around the fence line. It wasn't that big, it could probably fit a small car into it. But, the underground compound was much bigger, nearly like a small warehouse with many rooms and two floors. Tweak sighed. And just as he sighed, the compound door opened and there was the doctor.

"Did you get any?"

"No, the plan was foiled by some strange guy."

"Why didn't you bring him back here, he could have feed the ones we have now."

"Why don't you do this shit? I can't stop thinking about the innocent lives you've murdered for your own sick pleasure."

"You mean, we murdered."

Tweak lost it. He had no part in this. Why in the Hell did he ever agree to help him? That's when he pulled the guy out of the compound doorway and threw him on the ground. Adrenaline. It was pumping through him still from his earlier confrontation with walkers.

"I had no part of this, YOU threatened me." With that, Tweak had dropped down and began to beat the guy in the head. The guy started screaming for help as Tweak continued to beat on him, his face was becoming bloodied and bruised.

My, what an interesting development. So it was just a man in a lab coat and the spaz all on their lonesome with no one competent to protect them, or rather now it was about to be just the spaz without anyone competent to protect him. Stepping out of the treeline he stood behind the squabbling pair, watching one bash the life out of the other with his bare hands with a raised brow. No use hiding anymore, even if the flailing dumbass showed back up the two of them wouldn't last long against a professionally trained killer.

"If you crush the temporal bones you'll get him to stop screaming."

He said rather matter-of-factly as he tapped the muzzle of his gun to the side of his own head, and went on.

"Your screaming and his is drawing attention. Finish the job so I don't have competition when I get around to killing you and that kid that saved your ass."

Since he was there and there was no point wasting bullets on a target that was going to face him directly, he holstered his gun and lowered the cloth face mask to reveal thin lips and a sharp nose, then dropped his hood down. Sunlight bounced harshly off of his snowy white hair. It was a strong, almost cliche Marine style high and tight. Military through and through, but the apex of it. Even Delta Force shit their pants at the sight of him and what was left of his ilk; though, he'd lost contact with them after being brought state side for a mental eval. PTSD, what a crock.

Brushing a bit of dirt from his uniform he took an at-ease pose, clasping his hands in front of him to wait for the man to finish murdering his partner.

The sounds of screams were heard throughout the whole fucking forest. What the hell was going on? Were there really more people here? He could survive his own well in this forest, but there were really that many still in this little bundle of trees? Cardio was an easy thing for Markus, so he was decently outrunning the undead for the moment. A quick look around was executed before he looked to a large tree where there seemed to be a stepping ledge. A good one too, one a bit too high for a walker to get to as Markus had never seen them jump upward. With two daggers at the ready, he started to dig them into the tree and set them as sickles for climbing up the trunk a bit faster. Once high enough, he perched himself close to the tree. Wearing a bit of camouflage gear, he was quite easily hidden. And the wind seemed to be perfectly placed out of the track so that Markus was not giving his scent away to his followers.

Dammit. He needed to see what on earth was going on. But he couldn't risk a trek at this moment. Not with his little paparazzi coming after him. The last thing he needed was a damned fanclub that literally wanted to rip him apart. But his last sights of the kid before was of a few zombies within the area, closing in on him. Conscience was slowly catching up on him as he started to slink down the trunk a bit. With his Beretta at the ready with a fresh clip, this and a dagger was all that Markus needed.

"Time to see if I can get the high score in Zombie Run. Hehehe I made a damned Temple Run joke."

Tweak, at first didn't hear the guy, continued to beat the doctor's head in a furious rage. The screams were echoing outward, catching the attention of whatever may lurk there. But, soon, he was startled, and nearly fell over with another voice caught him off guard and silenced him and the doctor. The doctor was spitting, and choking on blood, his jaw broken and possible other areas. He looked over to the guy, and reached his hand out, as if to ask for help to be saved from the onslaught of Tweak. Tweak, however, looked dumbfounded at the guy who was standing there with a gun no less. This was it. Here he was murdering someone, and there was a witness that was probably going to kill them both for the compound. Fuck. That's all the rolled through Tweak's head. He was going to die, and it looked like pretty soon too.

"L..L..Look mister, you can have the compound. I'll leave and go on my way."

Tweak was stuttering all over the place, but that was usual of him. He was a junkie, well, ex-junkie unless he could find caffeine and Ritalin. He had to think for a moment. Maybe, if the doctor was out of the way, his survival rate would go up. He started patting his pockets, looking for the keys to the lock that was on the gate. But, before he tossed them over the fence, he rolled the doctor towards the gate. The guy was dying, slowly, and Tweak didn't want him inside the fence when he did die because of the off chance of him coming back like the walkers. Tweak had to make some progress here. The doctor was dead, and the compound was up for grabs right now because of the guy standing on the outside. He threw the keys over to the guy standing out the outside.

"I'm decent with a gun, maybe we can co-habit in the compound. There's plenty of food, and ammunition. "

Noah smoothly caught the keys in one hand, but kept his distant eyes trained on the spaz. The doctor was of no concern to him and the prospect of having company, not for social purposes but as a spotter, was tempting. He'd nearly had a chunk taken out of him a few times from not having a spotter at his back; he was great at what he did, but he was still only one man with one set of eyes.

"Hmph, what's your name?"

He grunted out as he unlocked the gate and let himself in, barely paying mind to the gurgling squint and the twitchy murderer. Once inside he secured the door and in a flash his Ka-Bar was at the doctors throat and across it. An arterial blast splashed his face, dying pale skin and white hair with the warm red. Not even an eyelash was batted to it; he'd done worse. The possibility of the corpse coming back was a real threat, and the last thing he wanted was to be woke up in the middle of the night to something breathing heavily over him ready to eat him at a moments notice. Before heaving the body over the fence he checked the pockets, finding another set of keys. To what though? Whatever, he'd find out soon enough.

After dumping the carcass over the boundary Noah flicked a button on a small shoulder unit, but was met with only static in the ear piece. What a fucking surprise. Not. The concrete and rebar was more than likely interfering with his signal. Grunting again Noah brushed past the spaz like he owned the place, which he basically did now, and set to drawing out a mental map.

Markus was a blur in the woods as he raced through the brush or foliage that seemed to go on for a while now. He was sure that by now they had gotten lost or were just confused about where he was now. He had succeeded so far in losing them, and he was not about to stop such a thing yet. Not until he got his baby dagger back. That weapon was ammunition, and that was invaluable in this day and age. He was beginning to pick up more and more pace, knowing that he was close to the dropzone.

Following a small path that had originally lead him to the place before, Markus crouched down at the bush he was behind the previous time and peeked out to check. There was no sound yet. This was a good sign to him as they usually made some sort of grunting as he had seen and witnessed whenever he was around these sorry pieces of shit. Why? No one knew, especially not him.

Tossing a rock out to the center of the little clearing, he still heard no sound. Another good thing to him, as he raced to peek up over the bush to find the knife. With it glinting a bit in the light, his eyes averted the direction and looked up a bit to see something in the distance. Only one real way to see what it was really. A race, to scoop up the dagger and then in the direction of the thing that had caught Markus' eye, which was a small rooftop. And was that a gate around it? Mayhaps it was the place where the kid was living. He could only hope.

But the execution of the plan was to be carried out first. He hopped up and raced off with a flip over the bush before tucking to roll into a sprint toward the dagger. He had caught it just as the sight of a walker popped up in his head a few yards away. Instincts had kicked in with him and he tossed the dagger once more toward the forehead of the undead. There was a slight grunt following from the walker before it began to fall backwards to the ground. But before it could, Markus was pulling the dagger out mid-action with a sharp shink. The clash of metal to bone. How could such be possible? Adrenaline, baby! It was pumping through his veins like hell, giving him the strength of mind and focus to leave the clearing before the zombie dared hit the ground. Now truly dead.

"One down," Markus said as he glared back over his shoulder mid-stride and then turned to refocus on his path which lead him to the compound, "Two more to go, possibly...."

"Everyone just calls me Tweak...I don't really remember my own name."

He was dumbfounded at the fact this guy just disposed of the doctor as if he were a common piece of trash. Tweak looked back to the guy, then shook his head as if he were just in a terrible nightmare. Of course, you could call this day in age a nightmare. So, Tweak moved down the stairs leading into a short hallway the had a door that was locked by keypad. He moved slightly to the left so that the guy could see the numbers being pressed in. 5. 6. 9. 3. 1. They were the doctor's choosing, of course this was the doctor's compound. But, luckily, Tweak knew his way around it, mostly. Soon, the light turned green, and the door popped open with a click. The doctor was a nervous fellow, and had made sure that no one could just enter the place without his knowledge. Tweak moved into the door, holding it open for just a second. The guy could have enough time to get in either way because the door doesn't automatically shut unless someone shuts it.

"Follow me, I'll show you Stevenson's room and where everything is at. The keys you grabbed, they unlock every door in here. And the ammunition locker."

Tweak moved on down the hallway, which lead to a room filled with chairs, a TV equipped with a few DVDS, and a counter with a coffee pot. This is where Tweak spent most of his time. He huffed, the place was quiet, always was because Stevenson lacked the patience for noise. Tweak moved to the TV, and flipped it on. The static made for something to break the silence. He didn't even look to see if the guy was following him or whatever. Instead, after flipping that television on, Tweak went past a swinging door into the kitchen. He was thirsty, and a cold beer sounded nice right now to cool his nerves from this activity in the last hour. So, he opened the fridge and sifted through it in a moment to look for a beer. Only 6 left. Looked like a run for some supplies was going to be needed soon. He popped the bottle cap, and knocked back a decent swig. After that, he just stood there. There was not much he could do, except give the guy the run of the compound and just stay out of his way.

"Well, at least I ain't got to deal in that shit no more."

Noah listened to "Tweak" prattle on about the doctors own quarters, but perked internally at the mention of an ammo locker. Luckily, he had decent enough memory and recall to almost instantaneously memorize the door code. Pushing past the spaz again he delved straight for the locker and swung the heavy door ajar.

"I see Mister Stevenson was a paranoid man."

He mumbled more to himself than anyone else, which was well enough when he noticed Tweak had gone off somewhere on his own. Automatically Noah grabbed two extra clips for his sidearm and Barrett before hauling out a .338 Lapua for his drafted spotter. Tweak better be as good as he says he is, or Noah may just put him down himself. After locking the door back up and a few minutes of wandering he reached the kitchen where the spaz was swilling beer, tossed him the extra rifle only to notice how dry his own throat was. Grabbing one of the bottles from the fridge he downed it in only seconds then dug around for some food, settling on a can of cold Pork 'n Beans. C rations at best, but it'd do.

Easily cracking the can open with his Ka-Bar the contents were emptied just as fast as the bottle of beer; now business.

"You're my spotter now."

He said as he hoisted his own rifle over his shoulder and pointed to the notches etched into the barrel and went on.

"For every kill you get a notch. Don't fuck up, or I'll make sure you die along with me."

Always business in his tone, like he were talking to a co-worker at the water cooler. With that said Noah answered the distinct gut feeling that someone was still outside the compound and heading towards it. Promptly he made his way to the roof, folded down the bipod of his rifle, and nested; watching through the scope for any movement. His finger always poised on the trigger and ready to blow a gigantic hole in someone's chest if need be.

“Come now, Pretties. We has us a way to go before the shiny,” Del muttered beneath her breath speaking to the inanimate objects that took up most of the space in her backpack. It had been a long time since she’d had been in contact with society and her mind was now suffering. She had all the markings of a crazy person. For some time now she had been speaking to her material things as if they would answer her back, and in her mind they most certainly did. After all, one wasn’t usually aware of their diminished state of mind.
 
Del had originated in the city. Sixteen and pretty as a peach under all the wear and tear; once auburn locks now hung stringy and a dark brown colour. Her pallor looked rather gray from an accumulation of dust and grime that gathered on her pale skin; clothes that had definitely seen better days, a pair of rolled up track-pants that may have been blue in the beginning and what used to be a light gray hood – now covered in suspicious rust spots that could have been just that, but were most likely blood. Reverting, much like a child, she had developed a resistance to being bathed or clean, and as a result her tolerance for all things virus had rocketed.
 
“Except for the snappers,” She muttered to her bear, Ralph, “Everyone gets the sicklies from them.”
 
A crashing to her right had her freezing in her tracks; brown eyes widening in her small face until the whites showed, “The snappers?” She hissed to Ralph, “Can’t be, too far, no brains.” The bear of course offered little in the way of explanation except to droop lazily in her backpack, his head peeking forlornly over the top, a tuft of stuffing hanging from his rag-tag ear. It turned out to be snappers indeed, with what looked like highly volatile prey at the beginning of them. Rather than risk being seen, Del dropped into hiding at the edge of what seemed like a road – she remembered them from the before, only instead of being overrun by cars, they were now overrun with weeds.
 
“We let’s him kill the snappers, then we can swoop and take his tasties, Ralph.” Her quiet words were hidden by the growling of the zombies and the loud din made by the fight. No one answered, and it was unlikely that Ralph ever would, yet in her mind she pictured the bear nodding almost thoughtfully. A chain link fence had come into view, the once shining steel now dull with age. To Del who was still watching from her vantage point on the side of the road it had gone un-noticed, but in her mind Ralph whispered and pointed.
 
It was time their luck changed, and the child had a penchant for sharp things. Surely something in her bursting pack would cut through that?

Markus was on a streak of luck today, apparently. Running into two survivors already and a compound. Maybe they would have something to help. The supplies he needed. All he actually required was a drink, as he had trained his body to function mostly on such for e had thought to himself at some times, but the required necessity as he could barely manage to get to the river sometimes, and then purifying the water correctly was not always a success.

Then came the risk of hunting. Losing ammo and not too tasty food. And he had not lost all of his mannerisms yet. He had some respect for the animals of this forest as they had shown him a bit of kindness. They were his warning signs. When they looked one way, a little doe or a rabbit, he was in battle stance and ready for hell itself to come on a high horse.

But the sight of this little piece of civilization before him, this little shack as he had seen, surrounded by chain link was a true godsend. He knew that they had something in there. But how could he get in? a simple wave of the hand? Well, it was worth a try.

That was, until he began to hear the tell-tale signs of someone behind him. Whispers? Maybe. But he heard shuffling. And that had him grasping his knife and waving it around above his head, mostly as a sign to those behind him inside the compound that he had arms. Hopefully he could be allowed inside, i only for a day. He needed a break.

Tweak looked to the rifle, and what was this about being a spotter? He shook his head, and slung the rifle over his shoulder. Though, he really didn't plan on going anywhere for awhile. He was tired, and needed some sleep. Sleep. That sounded like heaven right now after his early morning start. Tweak looked back to Noah, and as if listening like a disobedient dog being scolded, Tweak moved towards the door. He was going to go get some sleep. Being that the TV was now displaying the camera at the gate, Tweak passed it just before he stopped and took a step back to look at the screen. What do you know, it's that guy that took off flailing his arms earlier. Tweak laughed, then went up the stairs and opened the trap door that lead outside into the fenced area.

"Got yourself in a bind?"

Tweak moved to the gate, and reached into his pocket to fiddle around for the keys. Though, he forget he threw them to Noah. Shit. Now what? He looked down the trap door, into the hallway, where was Noah? He scrambled back down into the compound, but only to hold up a finger to Markus as if he was saying just a second.

So, the flailing dipshit was still alive and with a few of his knives missing, but behind him a raggedy-beggar looking girl skirted along the road. Noah fixed his cross hairs dead center on the kids nose when he saw Tweak scrambling out of the trap door and talk to the stranger. Just as the spaz hunkered down towards the stairs of the compound Noah fired off two warning shots. One that buzzed right by the flailers ear and another that slammed into the earth only inches from the woman's feet.

The Barrett was loud, and served well to intimidate potential threats especially when the realization that the gun was in very capable hands hit them. Moving quickly, Noah shouldered his rifle and moved down to the gate where the two were with his sidearm drawn.

"Don't move, or I'll drown you in the river."

He grunted at the man outside the gate as he cautiously unlocked the door and stepped out. Training his gun on the strange mans head he patted him down, finding most, possibly all of, the daggers and guns he had tucked away. So, he came armed huh? Stepping behind the man Noah pressed the tip of his finger against the trigger, ready to blow a hole in the kids skull if he even sneezed.

"You're armed and that spooks me. Any reason I shouldn't paint Tweak's face with your brain?"

As always his words came cold and edged with venom that meant he wasn't fucking around, and would have no qualms with murdering someone. The girl didn't pose much of a threat, and she looked dirty. Noah doubted she'd last very long.

If Del had little rabbit ears they would surely be twitching in the wind at this point. The scuffle had slowly died out and now the foods was waving his hands around with a shiny. She could see the chain link far beyond him, as Ralph had pointed out and beyond that some more food.

“Come, Ralph, we has some work to do.”

Fading back into the trees, Del decided to leave the food and head for the fence. Perhaps those people even had dessert to come after them as the main? It had become her life, searching for food and just basic survival. Crunch went the leaves underfoot as she decided to lose all semblance of sneakiness. If the man with the knife wanted to follow, he could, she would eat him later. The one’s behind the chain link had her full attention.

As she walked, she rummaged through her bag, holding Ralph beneath her chin as she searched for what she was looking for – a pair of wire cutters, pilfered back in the city from a run down hardware store, long abandoned to the elements and the snappers. Once found, all she had eyes for was the fence. Single-minded in her determination to break through it; her attention left the un-infected humans and zeroed in on the chain-link.

Markus was blessed to have the twitching one come out. He knew that there had to be something up when he turned to go back into the trap door, though. Then the shot fired off and put Markus into a battle stance where he seemed to be crouched toward the forest. His back was the to the fence now, knowing that the twitching one obviously would have his back.

Well, maybe that was the wrong thing to do. It was but a moment or so later that the sound of a gun cocking was heard to him and he went ramrod stiff. Adrenaline was surely pumping through him, but he knew in order to live, he had to stay calm and do as was told. But who the hell was giving the orders here? It couldn't be the kid that had just went underground. But that had been the only one that was seen so far. This had Markus questioning just what he could find down there, really.

It was only the moment that he was being patted down and he allowed it. The stash upon his beltline was the straw that he had to say something. I cannot defend myself without being armed. If you plan to decline me shelter, at least give me back my weapons. And as to why I need to be here? I am trained, and keep quiet more than most. You have seen a bit of my skills. And I can keep a good watch at six. Or four thirty. Or seven thirty. Whichever.""

Tweak had simply moved back, a bit panicked at the fact that shots were fired. This was obviously going to be one hell of a day. But, wait. Tweak looked back out to the woods surrounding them. Wasn't there a girl just standing there? Where did she go? He huffed, Noah probably scared he off. Good riddance. Girls were a liability around here now days, break a nail and they fall and scream.

He moved back down into the compound, fuck being out here while Noah did his thing. However, mid way, he stopped and remembered he couldn't run away this time. He had been appointed a spotter. Whatever that was. But his mind did travel back upon the girl that just up and disappeared.

"Noah, there was a girl behind him. She's gone now. Should we look for her?"

Tweak remained half into the entrance to the compound, and half out of it. The rifle was still laying against his back. His mind was wandering away from his savior earlier that day. Then sighed, he couldn't allow Noah to kill the guy, he still had one of the guy's blades on him. So, he climbed out and walked over there to where Noah was manhandling the guy.

"He could prove useful, Three have a better chance than two, or one."

If Noah had it in him to show emotion, he'd have scoffed at the kids words. Instead he nudged the man forward, further from the gate and his weapons, and flipped the switch on his shoulder unit again. More static, but this time there were distorted voices in the white noise. Back up for the kid, or the girl? Just as he was about to seal the deal and blow the strangers brains out, Tweak popped up behind him with a fair point.

Noah gave it some thought before lowering his gun slowly and handed the keys to Tweak, but eyes remained glued to the road where the girl was. He'd only taken his eyes off her for a second.

"Fine, we'll keep him for now, and for the record, stranger, you suck at being quiet. Keep your mouth shut and stay out of my way and I'll pretend you don't exist. Things that don't exist don't get killed. As for your seeing your skills; I'd laugh if I were able to."

He glanced at the spaz and motioned to him with his head to get the man inside before heading down towards the road. Sure enough the beggar girl was slinking along the ditch with a pair of wire cutters in her hands and a dazed, vacant look in her eyes. Even less of a threat than he originally anticipated, and she stunk something fierce. Grunting he followed the odd woman up to the fence and watched her over her shoulder, waiting -almost politely- for her to finish snipping her way through the fence.

Noah was definitely an odd man, and just a little off his rocker, but that only added to his brilliance in the field. Brassy eyes slid down to the stuffed bear poking its head from her backpack and a brow rose, but he said nothing. He just stood there watching her somewhat intrigued.

Del could hear the voices, but Ralph said it was okay, so she decided to ignore it. Her tiny pink tongue poked from the side of her mouth as she was absorbed in the task of getting through the chain link. SNIP went the clippers and parts opened; the link looked like it had been well cared for and offered little resistance to her equally well-looked after wire cutters.

“Is nearly done, Ralph,” She muttered as she cut through the remaining three links. It took a little bit of effort on her part, but in about ten seconds she had the small section pulled outwards and got to measuring the hole.  It wouldn’t fit with her pack on her back, so Del carefully extracted Ralph from its depths, stuffing him down the front of her shirt and shoving the backpack through the hole before clambering after it.

Once inside, she nodded cordially to the two watching her and patted at her stomach where Ralph rested. “You see’s, pet? That wasn’t so hard.” It was a small enclosure but large enough for her to stretch her legs and take a look at her surroundings.

Person, person, fence, tall yellow thing; nothing much of interest, really. The tall one seemed to be eyeing her off and she muttered down the neck hole of her shirt to Ralph, “Mother can’t have taught him that it’s rude to stare? We should take his shiney’s for punishment, yes?” Ralph neither confirmed or denied her suggestion, going quiet and shy in the face of strangers, and Del peeked around the man to the other one.

“ARE YOU COLD OR SOMETHING?” She asked rudely of the other man. She hadn’t seen someone shiver so hard since the dead of winter.

The female had gone unseen from her perch atop a high tree branch, she had simply sat there listening and watching the males run around. The sight alone caused her pink tinted lips to pull up in the corners, it was the closest to happiness she had been since the start of this never-ending hell hole. With a light shrug she began to untie her legs from the large branch she had slept upon, it had been easy so far to survive in the wild, but that was when she was dealing with the undead. For some reason other humans who had not been turned seemed to cause more trouble for her than the dead ones. Raven began her morning routine, starting off with stretching before stuffing the robes into the backpack that was attached to the branch above her. Bright blue's drank in her surroundings as she slipping on her pack, which happened to have a very handy quiver built into it.

"Geez.. A whole freaking party down there..." Her tone showed her rather crude attitude towards the growing crowd of people. Though as she watched from afar she made no move to climb down from the tree, the dense leaves blocked her from their view while giving her sight over the entire compound. Nimble digits wound about the hilt of the knife strapped to her outer thigh, it was one of the few things she had to remind her of her now dead family. The girl had just turned 19 when all hell broke loose, yet by this point she was more than ready for anything this new stage threw at her. Her father had been weary about this sort of thing happening, he alone had trained her since a young age on how to survive in the wild. His teachings covered everything from hunting and butchering her prey to finding flowers and plants that were edible or had some sort of medical usage.

Raven was a slender girl, having small supple curves to actually show she was female otherwise her short platinum blonde locks would make one assume she was male. Her voice alone gave one enough to question, the way it settled upon such a low alto. The only equipment she had on her included: A high-quality long bow, large range of arrow tips and rods, the rather huge knife attached to her leg and various survival gear. It was ample, yet more than enough to get her through it as long as she remembered to pull the arrows out of those she's killed.

A light, slightly annoyed sigh passed her lips as she rolled her eyes. The others had obviously a hard time staying quiet, it was beginning to draw attention to the walkers within the area. Her bright blue optics began to scan the area from her perch, it seemed clear until she looked out farther, long past the road was a much larger group of undead. They seemed to be heading in the direction of the compound, which left her with two options: 1) Hop down and alert the dumbasses of their impending doom or 2) Just sit back and watch while they waste precious ammo on a endless torrent of dead. Yet, being the kind-hearted person she was, the choice of obvious. She was going to end up helping somehow.

With a rather slow decent she began to make her way to the compound, once upon the uneven grass she began to sprint towards the gate stopping only when she was close enough to alert them. Raven kept her distance, somewhat afraid of other living people after the ordeals she went through to get out of her suburban home. She stood several yards away, far enough to calm her nerves and close enough to sprint through the gate if she was allowed to help.

"I hate to spoil this wonderful little party but off in the East is a rather large group of walkers, from the looks of it there were probably 20 or more."