Infection / Destruction / Hope

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Brimdog

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Reply with quote  #26 

We had always talked about this happening. None of us actually believed it would, but it did. So I log into the site and everyone is on. All buzzing about what the hell is happening and is it real. Oh its eal all right. No government hijix, no college pranks. This stuff is for real. WTF are WE gonna do is the newest post so I clicked on it. The general idea was that we all meet up somewhere and try to survive. Sounded good to me. Not much of a chance where I was at the time. So I grabbed what I could and started that way. Only God knows if I'll make it. And I don't think he gives a shit right now.


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Reply with quote  #27 

I peered through the boards that now covered my window. Beams of light sqeezed through the crevices that were left exposed. A false hope to my weary eyes. They were all out there. The ocean of death, that I must navigate. In the midst of my desperation I had only one thought. Silly though it may seem. They really had to gnaw and chew more than I imagined. It was like a movie, but not the ones I had seen. These creatures didn't just rip the flesh clean from the bone...they chewed it off.


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ZombieDiva

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Reply with quote  #28 

   This is ridiculous! I really thought someone was playing some sort of sick prank on me. It had been a really nice day, and I spent most of it out on the boat. For once I wanted to be able to relax and get a little sun out on the water. I purposely left my cell phone behind, just so I wouldn't be disrupted. When we returned back home, the street was completely empty. I sent the kids to take their showers and get ready for bed. While they were occupied, I decided to log in to my favorite website and check out the posts in the forum. There was a general announcement about preparing for an emergency, and I almost laughed aloud when it continued with this is not a joke, the dead are really returning to life! A few seconds later, I was bombarded with personal messages from Unodiablo, Sicbelly13, and even Z, warning me to prepare myself and my family for the worst. I didn't want to believe what they were trying to tell me. It took a few more messages from Alex and Kkamikazekidd before I entertained the possibility that they might actually be serious. Just as I turned to tell my husband what was going on, a loud siren wailed off in the distance...


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We had already seen a few 'runners' yesterday, and the area is loaded with vacationers. All unarmed and waiting to get infected. No way we can stay around here. I shot two of them down, they were already covered in blood and screaming like mad banshees, and the neighbors that were over all saw them get back up. I followed the zombie-movie motto after that - one to the head, make the zombie stay dead. One of the neighbors was hysterical, she called the police. Had to leave a message, but I know they were on their way, and I'll be damned if they're going to take away the only decent rifle I have.

 

After PMing back and forth with Alex, I packed up all my food, guns, ammo, equipment, and my dog and Granny into the van. I had enough gas to get to Illinois, and Alex gave me good directions to the farm. I called my brother to see if he wanted to make the trip with, but he said he already blocked off his roads with the chainsaw and a few friends keeping watch for more of those damn runners. He said I should come over there and just ditch the van, but I had a sinking feeling about the 'vacation destination' of central WI.

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Reply with quote  #30 

HOLY FUCKING SHIT ITS HERE I WAS RIGHT was the thought blasting through my mind as I begin to read my favorite forums for the last time. the end was here...the tears of saddness began to course down my check as I thought of what this meant what ramifications it would have. everyone I couldn't save everyone who would surely perish. I started to panic grabbing gear yelling at my family to move there asses they wouldn't listen my mother and grand mother kept screaming about going to the safe house My brother was gone off to collect his girl friend  foolish boy down town was a war zone to many hospitals and moruges in one confined area. I left well wishes for all of them grabbed the rosary a friend had given to me once long ago. the bug out bag was stowed the sagia empty no rounds inside the entire house scarficed to my grand mothers fear of them. I slung it over my back guess a bat would do. I checked the other two fourms and my airsoft addictions lets see who had real combat skills now as I posted a rally point for the teams to meet I'm the AO its my job. My cell phone rang and I answered my best friend fear in his voice he was coming to collect me. I wasn't  afraid I couldn't be to much to do to much to care for I smiled sliding my nomex gloves on "Times up...Lets do this"


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Obviously, it didn't work out so well.  Here on this rooftop, another dawn breaks, and I am still alone.  Or at least, I might as well be.  My friend crashed his car.  I watched him get swallowed up and broken apart by the horde.  I got separated from my family.  God knows where they are or whether they're still alive.  I hope and pray every second that they haven't met that horrible fate of the rest of the world.  All I can do is push on to the rallying point and hope that they, if they be able, know to do the same.  I feel little hands pawing at my legs, then a little scruffy head pops up out of the roof hatch next to mine.  Like I said, I might as well be alone, because this kid is all I have to show for my efforts thus far.  I pulled him out of the wreckage of an interstate mess, and I don't know what to do with him.  He can't drive, can't shoot, can't defend himself.  I wanted to leave him on the road that day, but he reminds me too much of my own son, and my heart caves at the thought.  Other than taking his share of food though, he's not so bad.  He never complains, never asks for food.... hardly even talks, really.  But I do know he likes sunrises.  He wonders whether we will stay in this boarded up house indefinitely.
"No," I say.  I look down at the sea of death banging on our walls.  I finger the butt of my weapon and I reply, "We're going to the farmhouse."

SUPERSNAKE

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Reply with quote  #32 

Smiling wickedly, I read the post on 'Morningstar: "Get to the R.V. - Fight or Die - see you all there!"

Ah, the end of things!

No more credit cards. No more putting up with asshats clogging the roadways in their ridiculous cars and SUV's. No more anything- except doing what I do best; kill things.

I powered my PC down, then contemptuously sent it crashing to the floor. Still grinning, I made my way down to the basement, where I grabbed some old friends, made sure they were loaded, then simply headed out the door. I knew the R.V. was a hell of a ways away, but I didn't care- just more opportunity for making dead things even deader.

"Bring it...", I growled to the ghouls scratching at my gate...


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dearanna

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Reply with quote  #33 
Quickly, I cocked my shotgun and blasted two of the zombies at the rusty gate. Blood and brains were splattered over my driveway. I ran out into the street. It was fairly, empty, seeing as I lived in a small town. I didn't want to waste my ammo, so I tried not to 'kill' the ones farther away. I ran down Billops street and fired upon another bloody mass that was lurching toward me, screaming. But I made a mistake. It wasn't a zombie. It was Z!! He had covered himself in zombie guts to try and trick the zombies. Damn! I thought as I  hurried to help Z back to his feet. Luckily, my aim  on that shot was terrible. Z was injured, but not severly, and he could walk. Directly in front of us was the old theatre, which had been closed for years. I lat Z lean on me as we slowly stumbled toward the ominous building, afraid of what terrors may await us inside.

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Reply with quote  #34 

As I pulled myself together, I slowly and painfully rose to my feet. I saw Z standing, or rather leaning, against an over turned ticket booth.  The soreness in my jaw was severe, but from the wound in Z's side I figured a a sore or even broken jaw was justified. Jesus, I just shot the guy who probably could help me get out of this God forsaken town.  After some apologies and another swift punch to the face, all was forgiven.  Taking a look around I realized we were more secure than I originally thought.  The theatres themselves are located on the upper floors, a large double staircase, the grand kind, found in early 20th century architecture lead upstairs.  We'll be here for a little while, so we may as well get to fixing up Z, fortifying this place and get another plan together. "oooh Mike & Ikes, Sweet."

 

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Reply with quote  #35 

Shit...I really wish I didn't live so fucking far away from all my people.  The spotty internet connection I have had at least lets me know that everyone's okay.  Well...almost everyone.  Anyhow, I have a plan.  There are three people (that I can see) on the roof of St. Al's across the street.  They have a helicopter, too.  I've been communicating with them in much the same way as Andy and Kenneth talked in the '04 remake of Dawn.  Shit...I wish I was having as much fun as they did.  But at any rate, I'm gonna try to cross the freeway.  I've been stuck here in my office for weeks now, and I feel it's high time I got the fuck out!  I've gone through all my options, and I think that quick and dirty is the way to go.  I've donned my leather jacket, some thick-ass welder's gloves, and a football helmet that one of my maintenence crew found on the lawn a month or two ago.  Also, I have the Ruger.  I really wish I had my 1911's, but there's no time.  Who was it that coined the term "Red in tooth and claw"?  Shit, I dunno.....I guess it doesn't really matter even though it does apply now.  The roof of my office is a barren place...no comfort here.  The faces of those that I loved with all that I am are now staring up at me from within the horde, rotting, bloated and forever lost.  After all that I've done, I still can't look upon them.  Fuck...I gotta go.  All that's left for me is to run the gauntlet.  This one's for you, baby......


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Brimdog

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Reply with quote  #36 

The midday sun cannot pierce the thick plume of dust that trails behind the Hmmwv as it races along the barren scape of the Nevada desert. It travels in a north-easterly direction swerving only to avoid larger obstacles in it's way. Inside sits a lone white male, his face as void of emotion as the land around him. A tired look can be seen in his eyes. He is thinking now, dreaming almost, and not really paying attention to the path ahead. Before he can react the dirt road in front of him pitches violently upward to meet the shoulder of the intersecting freeway. He is floating weightless for a second before the vehicle slams back to earth. "SHIT!" is the only word he manages to say as his teeth snap together from the impact. His foot is now off the gas and on the brake quickly bringing the grime covered truck to a halt. he takes a moment to shake the fog from his vision before stepping out of the vehicle. He pulls a beat up New Orleans Saints hat over the dirty stubble on top of his head and grabs an M-16 that is in dire need of a cleaning. A cursory scan of the area shows that there is nothing moving for miles in any direction. The blacktop of the freeway which the vehicle landed on gives off that faint hazy vision from the heat of the sun. There are two signposts along the road. The first tells that the road is indeed called highway 6. The other is faded and depicts your average American family pic-nicking with smiling faces. Underneath their visage are the words "Great Basin National Park... a Great place to be". The man leans inside the vehicle and taps the glass of the fuel gauge. Half empty. "Well," he says as he gets in and starts the engine,"might as well." He cackles like a mad man as he heads toward his next destination.


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kkamikazekidd

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Reply with quote  #37 

South East Texas

 

  "Lord I was born a ramblin' man" he sang in a whisper.  The smirk starched onto his face deceived sanity. He continued the Allman Brothers classic and pushed the weathered Honda into the back of the Black Econoline 250. He knew that general mayhem and death had caused major highways to evolve into death lots, he had seen it on TV, and out his bathroom window. The old but reliable CR125 would be useful after all. A couple more cans of food, his old guitar, a length of half inch hose, and about fifty feet of nylon cord and he was set to leave.  At first light, when the ringing of gunshots was light, he would embark on his thirty plus miles to the beach house. The relative safety of the Gulf waters. The road to his salvation, if there was one. He took one last look out of the dusty garage window and saw a family being dined upon, their screams audible. His smile darkened sinisterly and he recalled the Dawn of the Dead remake. "Fuck Y'all".....


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ZombieDiva

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Reply with quote  #38 

The plan was, we didn't really have a plan. You would think that with all the info that was at my disposal, especially from my forum buddies pertaining to survival planning and what not, I'd have a clue as to what was the best way to proceed. Unfortunately all that went out the window. I knew that we were in some deep shit. Come on, I live in an urban area, with way more people crammed into the town that just do not reflect on any census. Also, most of the people were Catholic and would probably seek out help from their religious leaders. Well God bless them please, because I don't see any other rational solution to this. My husband and I decided to make a break for the boat while we still could. We loaded up a wagon with some bottled water and canned goods. We had the machete, and my husband's cousin's gun that he had us hold for him, lucky us that he went to jail and left us with that gift. Joselito is probably better off where he's at, in this situation anyway. I froze when I saw my son Matthew come walking down the hall carrying a pair of nunchaku and his katana...


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Reply with quote  #39 

The highways of Wisconsin - Chapter Two - Adding to the Group!

 

We were just getting on the highway, when we had to go around a bad accident. Granny leaned out the window with the SKS and popped a few zeds that got too close to the mean green zombie-killin' machine.

 

"This thing kicks too hard, pull over up there by that guy and if he's one of them walkin' zombies, I'll headshoot him right quick, and swap this heavy piece of commie junk for the .22. You better have cleaned it before we left, whippersnapper!"

 

We pulled up along the man in question. He was clearly alive, tho bloodied from the crash we had passed a few minutes ago. He waved his arms and looked pretty desperate. As we got closer, I could see he was a wiry-looking hispanic. "Well, you can't leave him out here, he'll get 'et!" Granny chimed in. I pulled over to the roadside - Granny leaned out the window with the SKS pointed at him - "You got any guns or bad intentions, fella?" He held up his blood streaked arms and shook his head no. "You been bit by one of them goons?" she continued.

 

Again he shook his head 'no', and wearily said "Our car was in the pile up back there, I made it out, and when I saw there was no one left alive, I started to walk as fast as I was able so they wouldn't get me when they woke up." He looked at the side of the van, and smiled as he read my spray-painted sign for driving onto Alex's land - UNODIABLO RULEZ DA WASTELAND!!! He looked at me and asked "Are you 'unodiablo'? From the internet? The MSS forum? I don't believe my luck! I'm quijote!"

 

"Well, hell, get on in man! We're on our way to pick up Zaren! He somehow ended up stuck in some small city on up the road."

 

(Coming in Chapter Three - We pick up Zaren, and Alex leaves Chicago with guns blazing! da da dun!)

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Me and shifty arrived at the rally point. I recgonized almost everyone there some of us had taken convinced our families to come others hadn't been as fortunate some of them where crying. I could see some fume with rage so I decided to be helpful as we pulled up.. I stepped out of the car and the first words out of my mouth was "I TOLD YOU MOTHER FUCKERS ZOMBIE MOTHER FUCKIN APOCYLAPSE ITS A HERE!!!" .This of course wasn't the most helpful thing I could do but it made me feel a bit happy. shifty shook his head at me as I walked up to blake,jeremy,thomas,sam and dan the core of our airsoft team. Dan was smiling bragging about how he was going to get some good head shot action.His wife looked quiet disturbed by it all.We quickly began discusssing our plan.more people where around but they where from our extended circle of friends .Some good friends other people I barley tolerated . I had just gotten my small ten round mag loaded into the sagia when a shot rang out. I looked to see my friend joe holding his 10/22 to his eye smiling going."Bagged one". I smiled said "Fucker I wanted to kill the first one" more moans alerted me to the fact we wheren't alone in the woods as we thought.I could see shifty chambering a round in his beretta and I began to scan the woods muttering."Here we go timeto make those hours of battlefieldtwo pay off"


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Z: Sage! Quick! Think fast! if you have ten books of matches, and i have nine gallons of gasoline, how many acres could we burn?
Sage: all of the
Z: Sage--and i'm not being facetious--that is exactly the answer i was hoping for
Doomsday

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Reply with quote  #41 
Quote:
Originally Posted by Doomsday
Obviously, it didn't work out so well.  Here on this rooftop, another dawn breaks, and I am still alone.  Or at least, I might as well be.  My friend crashed his car.  I watched him get swallowed up and broken apart by the horde.  I got separated from my family.  God knows where they are or whether they're still alive.  I hope and pray every second that they haven't met that horrible fate of the rest of the world.  All I can do is push on to the rallying point and hope that they, if they be able, know to do the same.  I feel little hands pawing at my legs, then a little scruffy head pops up out of the roof hatch next to mine.  Like I said, I might as well be alone, because this kid is all I have to show for my efforts thus far.  I pulled him out of the wreckage of an interstate mess, and I don't know what to do with him.  He can't drive, can't shoot, can't defend himself.  I wanted to leave him on the road that day, but he reminds me too much of my own son, and my heart caves at the thought.  Other than taking his share of food though, he's not so bad.  He never complains, never asks for food.... hardly even talks, really.  But I do know he likes sunrises.  He wonders whether we will stay in this boarded up house indefinitely.
"No," I say.  I look down at the sea of death banging on our walls.  I finger the butt of my weapon and I reply, "We're going to the farmhouse."



I didn't even know how to load a shotgun the day that it all hit.  I learned damn fast though, I can tell you that.  I didn't learn enough, though, in the time that I had.  None of my family did.  All the times I bitched about the customers who waddled into S-Mart... I realize now that I and my family were all the same.  The same helpless peons born to consume, and the first to be swallowed up by time when it ends.  It took a traffic jam melee, a fight for our own food that we had bought, and three family members' lives, before I was able to load that shotgun and blast away with a speed that meant anything at all.  That guy at work would be a good counterpart now.  He always talked about shotguns and chainsaws, about how he could have been king one day, but I always laughed at him.  I'd give anything to have him at my side now, even if he is as fucking crazy as I think he is.  I went into that gas station looking for water and food.  I couldn't have imagined who I would be when I walked out.
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Reply with quote  #42 
Quote:
Originally Posted by SUPERSNAKE

Smiling wickedly, I read the post on 'Morningstar: "Get to the R.V. - Fight or Die - see you all there!"

Ah, the end of things!

No more credit cards. No more putting up with asshats clogging the roadways in their ridiculous cars and SUV's. No more anything- except doing what I do best; kill things.

I powered my PC down, then contemptuously sent it crashing to the floor. Still grinning, I made my way down to the basement, where I grabbed some old friends, made sure they were loaded, then simply headed out the door. I knew the R.V. was a hell of a ways away, but I didn't care- just more opportunity for making dead things even deader.

"Bring it...", I growled to the ghouls scratching at my gate...

Z-DAY +2

 

"Please..God..no! Don't!", she screamed at me, as I hauled her out of a shiney new yellow Toyota FJ-Cruiser.

What had convinced her to surrender the keys to such a sweet ride was my pure animal magnetism - that, and the lever-action rifle chambered in .444 Marlin digging into her left temple.

 

At times, I can be pretty damn persuasive.

 

I had hauled her out from behind the wheel, the rilfe in my right hand, and a fistful of her blond locks in my left, and forced her onto her knees. Looking down into her eyes, I could see the transition from terror to rage. She sprung up, scratching and spitting like a wildcat.

I still had her by the nap of her hair, so I simply pushed down on her noggin with my left hand, and brought my right knee crunching up into her pretty little button-nose.

Blood sprayed over my old Levi's, and her screams turned into wails of despair.

 

I rammed the muzzle of the carbine back into her temple and pulled the trigger. The rifle roared, and her brains and blood splashed onto the side of the 'Cruiser- red and pink; it contrasted starkly with the banana-yellow of the SUV.

It looked like a sunset. I love sunsets.

"Pretty".

 

A few misguided fools stared out at me through the windows of their cookie-cutter houses. "The illusion of saftey", I thought, shaking my head at them.

I decided to be magnanimous, and gave them some advice.

 

"Never", I proclaimed, "touch my car."

 

With that, I hopped into my new ride, and put it into gear. The motor purred smoothly, as I swept out of town, heading south.

 

"Two hours to the border", I muttered...

 

 

 

 


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Me and Z continued...

We were in the musty old theatre. The building had been closed for well over 50 years, it was beginning to become obvious. I let go of Z and let him sit on the cement floor so I could take a look around. "I'm not a baby you shithead" he screamed at me. I just walked off into the cool darkness of the theartre. Ahead of me was a small ticket booth, covered with cobwebs and dust. I walked up to the doorway of the booth and stopped. Inside, was a small child, only about 9 years old. The boy was lying on the ground, his thick neck torn away, revealing the red mass of blood and muscle. "He..ll..pp" he managed to utter. I helped him alright. I lifted my gun and fired a round into the boy's small head, shattering his skull and sending a red mist into the air. "What the fuck!!" Screamed Z from behind me. "Nothing!" I yelled back. I lowered my gun and walked back to Z. By the look of what happened to this boy, we probably would want to stay in here any longer. We had to find another place to stay. I reached Z and starred out the dirty windows, straining to see a nearbye building. It was Danny's Diner, and there was someone ALIVE inside. I helped Z get up, and we both stumbled out of the theatre and into the city streets. Hopefully, this was the last time!


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Quote:

Shit...I really wish I didn't live so fucking far away from all my people.  The spotty internet connection I have had at least lets me know that everyone's okay.  Well...almost everyone.  Anyhow, I have a plan.  There are three people (that I can see) on the roof of St. Al's across the street.  They have a helicopter, too.  I've been communicating with them in much the same way as Andy and Kenneth talked in the '04 remake of Dawn.  Shit...I wish I was having as much fun as they did.  But at any rate, I'm gonna try to cross the freeway.  I've been stuck here in my office for weeks now, and I feel it's high time I got the fuck out!  I've gone through all my options, and I think that quick and dirty is the way to go.  I've donned my leather jacket, some thick-ass welder's gloves, and a football helmet that one of my maintenence crew found on the lawn a month or two ago.  Also, I have the Ruger.  I really wish I had my 1911's, but there's no time.  Who was it that coined the term "Red in tooth and claw"?  Shit, I dunno.....I guess it doesn't really matter even though it does apply now.  The roof of my office is a barren place...no comfort here.  The faces of those that I loved with all that I am are now staring up at me from within the horde, rotting, bloated and forever lost.  After all that I've done, I still can't look upon them.  Fuck...I gotta go.  All that's left for me is to run the gauntlet.  This one's for you, baby......

 

Killing changes a man.  I know this because the simple act of getting across the highway required lots of it...for me.  My wife, my son, my neighbors...all of them.  At least all that came within reach.  The message was a ploy, too.  They were honest in saying there were three people on the roof, but they neglected to tell me about the five more inside.  At least they weren't able to take me by suprise.  I even piked the heads of four of them as a warning to others.  I still have the pilot and the chopper, though.  We'll see how that goes...I may be taking a crash course in helicopter flight here soon.  He's cooperating with me for the time being, and from what I've read on the web, Z is gonna make it...let's just hope he's not the only one.  I plan to head east at dawn.  I'm not sure what will happen but I'm ready for it nonetheless.


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Reply with quote  #45 

One shot, one kill. If there's anything I'll remember from the Corps it's that simple motto. I had ghosted into great basin park on empty and ended up hiking a few miles into the main camp area. It was well into dark by the time I finally arrived. I stopped about 100 yards out and scanned the area with some Gen 2 night vision optics I had acquired. I hadn't seen any posers (decomposers, ie zombies) on the way up here but still wasn't going to walk into some place before i got a little recon. What I saw both amazed and infuriated me at the same time. It looked like a gang of street bikers had made it up here and turned the place into their own little paradise. The six men were occupying themselves with a woman who was laying on the ground and obviously unconscious. A group of maybe a dozen women and children were sitting around a dying fire bound with all manner of duct tape and extension cords. I slowly pulled the M-16 to my cheek and obtained a prone firing position. These men were scum and deserved to be punished. This was a new world and it would take a new kind of law to make sure those who had power couldn't hurt those without it. I took aim on one of the men. Inhale. Slow, steady squeeze. One shot, one kill.


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kkamikazekidd

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Reply with quote  #46 
Quote:
Originally Posted by kkamikazekidd

South East Texas

 

  "Lord I was born a ramblin' man" he sang in a whisper.  The smirk starched onto his face deceived sanity. He continued the Allman Brothers classic and pushed the weathered Honda into the back of the Black Econoline 250. He knew that general mayhem and death had caused major highways to evolve into death lots, he had seen it on TV, and out his bathroom window. The old but reliable CR125 would be useful after all. A couple more cans of food, his old guitar, a length of half inch hose, and about fifty feet of nylon cord and he was set to leave.  At first light, when the ringing of gunshots was light, he would embark on his thirty plus miles to the beach house. The relative safety of the Gulf waters. The road to his salvation, if there was one. He took one last look out of the dusty garage window and saw a family being dined upon, their screams audible. His smile darkened sinisterly and he recalled the Dawn of the Dead remake. "Fuck Y'all".....

 

  Sam Houston Ave was surprisingly quiet. There were no gunshots this morning. It was sunny, postcard perfect. The black van pulled out and accelerated. Not a car in sight, he thought. Kidd, turned on the am/fm. A steady stream of county names were being announced, the same as the last 3 days. He popped in a cassette and turned up the volume. Welcome to the Jungle blares through the straining speakers. The van continued to speed down the empty avenue. Only one thing stood in Kidd's way, a military looking roadblock that he spotted about 200 yards ahead of him. He could see figures moving about. He produced a cigar from his shirt pocket and sparked it up. Kidd hit the accelerator and the engine whined. "Come and get me fuckers"


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ZombieDiva

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Reply with quote  #47 

Shit...

 

We made it to the boat....barely. Out of nowhere a group of those things grabbed the kids. My son was so brave, so good, he protected his sister using the only skills he had, which were his many years of Tang Soo Do. That training served him well when instinct took over, and he kept circling Katie and lined each one of them up and kicked and jabbed at them until my husband or I could come to their aid. Unfortunately, we had to abandon our supplies we were carrying and make a run for it. During the scuffle to release Katie from the grip of one of the creatures, my husband "Bully" suffered a bite. I pulled the kids to the safety of the marina gates as they cried for their father. His eyes locked with mine as he mouthed the words I love you, his eyes welling up with tears knowing that he was doomed. He continued to fight the dead off so that we had a few precious seconds more to get to our boat...

 

Now I sit here panic stricken. There is very little food or water left in the tiny fridge, and absolutely no back up fuel. I think my kids are in shock, they have grown very quiet. I am writing this in a notebook for posterity. I don't think we can make it. Especially with the loss of my husband. My husband. We just spent a beautiful day together. One we rarely have because of his work. Fresh tears drip down onto the paper and I cannot go on...


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unodiablo

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Reply with quote  #48 

Chapter Three - Picking up Zaren/ Alex leaves Chicago

 

We continued down the highway at a fast pace. With quijote along, and Zaren to pick up, we had to avoid several groups of survivors along the highway - we just didn't have room or supplies. One of the groups fired at the van, but Quijote and Granny and I returned an unholy amount of fire from semi-auto SKS, .22 rifle and my AK, and they headed for the pile up of cars for cover.

 

We reached the off ramp to Portage, and I pulled off the highway to see if Zaren had made it. He had. I could see hm waving a shirt from the top of the empty restaurant along the highway. The building was surrounded by runners and zombies, so it was going to be a hairy rescue. I stopped the van about 75 yards off, and Quijote and I wiped out all the runners that came our way, while Granny pegged shamblers in the head with the scope dialed up to 12x  on the .22 rifle. We eliminated about half of the zombies, and yelled to Zaren that we were coming in for a rescue. He clambered down to the entryway roof, and we drove underneath slowly so he could jump down. Quijote unloaded the SKS knocking some zombies down, and blowing some nasty gray matter out of a few more. There was a thump on the roof, and I started to drive away with Zaren safely on the roof.

 

Then we rounded the corner of the restaurant, and Quijote shouted 'RUNNERS!', as a pack broke away from cover of the building and swarmed the van. I leaned the AK out the window and fired wildly into the crowd while Quijote reloaded the SKS. It wasn't enough, three infected managed to clamber halfway up the roof and drag Zaren down into the small crowd of lurching dead. Quijote opened the door to the van and emptied the SKS in ten quick shots, but Zaren was down. Not even screaming, he must have been knocked unconcious from the fall, or have passed out from the shock of the attack of the carriers and undead.

 

He was carrier chow. Quijote climbed into the van, face paled, and quietly said "Drive".

 

----------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Alex checked his magazine, spares and chamber in the AR15 for the umpteenth time. His wife hadn't made it home yet, and he knew that if she was still alive, she'd be on her way to the Farm, rather than risk the madness in the city. He had to get out as well, he could smell the smoke. Chicago was burning. He peeked out the hastily nailed shut window and knew it was time to get in the loaded up truck, and make a break for it. He checked the load in his .45, and adjusted the pack on his shoulder. Most of what he needed was out at the Farm, but he figured if he could make it to the truck with the duffel bags, he'd have a few more weeks of food, and some luxury items as well. If he had to cut and run, he could dump both of the bags, while unloading the AR and heading for the truck.

 

He steeled himself, and unlocked the back door. Damn. There was a few infected wandering about. This wasn't going to be easy. He hoped his wife made it to the Farm, and that he'd make it himself.

 

ZombieDiva

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Reply with quote  #49 

Quote:
He was carrier chow.

 

As he wished, so shall it be...


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"spreadly thin" new term created and attributed to Armydillo978

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Sage

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Reply with quote  #50 
My first taste of real combat wasn't what I thought it was going to be the noise the sounds everything was sureal as if everything was a dream a blur of light my first shot went wide on the zombie "Fuck him" I thought as I emptied two into his chest then finally one into his head. Lucky screamed out "Twitch unless you can get that shit under control we are going to run out of 7.62 pretty fast" then killed another zed with a controled double tap from an AR-15 he had aqquired from academy sporting goods it where most of our supplies had come from but none of that mattered now it was combat fighting not war not a war yet our fight had just begun. I saw one heading towards shiftys car. a quick shot from the sagia actually managed to drop it. then it was over it was only a few zombies in the first place maybe five or six but we had spent atleast double that amount of rounds dropping them. This was going to be bad and I needed something that didn't buck in my hands like the ak did. I wasn't ever a strong guy. hmmm I thought to myself to have an MP5SD5 right now......
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Z: Sage! Quick! Think fast! if you have ten books of matches, and i have nine gallons of gasoline, how many acres could we burn?
Sage: all of the
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