Zombies 2012

[jqzjqz]

About
Due to the lack of zombie threads, I'd like to start one for the new year but differently.

This is a progressive free-writing game (so any one can be involved). I'll introduce the story and end after meeting a new survivor. The next poster will continue taking the perspective of the new survivor and will end with either meeting another new survivor or the death of an existing survivor. Next poster repeats. Basically, the OP sets the plot for the next poster.

Guidelines
- Next poster must follow the story in previous posts
- There must be at least one gain or one loss in survivors in each post to maintain progression for next poster
- There must be an encounter(s) with a zombie or zombies
- Maximum 3 days, no overly ridiculousevents or weapons, and try to stay serious.

Begin (Day 1)

"Alright. I'll call you when I get to the base entrance"

I hung up the phone and continued to stare at the traffic. In the car to the left of me, a guy with purple eye bags, looks like he hasn't slept in weeks. In the car to the right of me, an old couple who look like statues, even their car is gray. Finally, the traffic starts to move. Only 7 more miles till I get to the military base to see my friend. Haven't seen this guy since high school.

I finally arrive at the military base with the alarm sounding. It doesn't look like they're letting people in because the entrance is blocked off with several guards standing by. I call up my friend but he doesn't answer. So I text him. I wait for a call back, but after 15 minutes I turn the car around and go back home. I guess there was a emergency. I'm starving.

Home sweet home err... apartment sweet apartment. I take off my shoes and head to the fridge. I grab a beer and put some left over steak from last night into the microwave. Suddenly, I get a phone call from my friend. I accept the phone call but gets disconnected before it goes through. I call again, he doesn't pick up. Ding! I grab my steak from the microwave and walk to the living room to watch some TV. No call back from my friend, so I guess I'll take a nap.

I wake up to nightfall and 27 missed calls from my friend and 2 texts. I call back but goes straight to voice mail. His phone is definitely dead.

Inbox (2)
1 [] ANSWR UR PHONE! LOW BATT []
2 [] COME TO BASE, CALL WEN UR AT GATE []

This sounds really bad. I turn on the TV to check the urgency.

*click* Channel 4 News

"EMERGENCY! Advisory: REMAIN HOME, DO NOT GO OUTDOORS. DANGEROUS HUMAN-LIKE CREATURES ROAMING THE CITY - - -" *click*

Zombies.... really? I look outside the window and it's a deserted street. I can only see my car and four others. I know I have to get out of here before it becomes impossible. I quickly grab my car keys and walk out of the apartment as fast as I can. Once outside, I notice how empty the streets look with very few parked cars. Seems like most people left as soon as the news got out. As I walk up to my car, a man is walking slowly towards my direction. Suddenly I hear moaning, groaning and the sound of screaming mixed with gargling water. I turn around and see 3 people approaching me. I run, not bothering to even turn around or attempt to go back to my car.

After 3 blocks, my stomach starts to cramp. I wish I was more physically fit, especially during a time like this. I notice a couple of dead bodies ahead of me so I stop. Then I hear moaning and groaning again from behind me. I start to run but my stomach is still cramping. I run through the dead bodies, but one grabs hold of my ankle tripping me to the ground. I look behind me and see 2 zombies walking towards me. I try to wiggle my leg out of the hold with no success. Then I quickly reached into my pocket and grabbed my car keys. Held them in between my fingers to imitate Wolverine's claws and began to punch the zombie's face, but it doesn't let go of my ankle. The moaning and groaning gets louder.in

*footsteps BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!*

The 2 zombies fall to the ground and my ankle is free. I stand up quickly shocked and traumatized. Then I turn around to discover something more shocking. It was my friend with an assault rifle in his military outfit covered in fresh blood. I can't even imagine what he's been through in the past couple of hours. But why isn't he at the military base? And why is he covered in blood?

[NobleOneNinja]

"I fear that could have been the end," said my friend. His name was Jonathan, he'd been a good friend to me in High School and I hadn't seen him since, and now I had so many more questions to ask him... "Thanks, I appreciate it" I said. "But, what's going on, why are you not at your base," I said. "I have no time to explain, my friend, we must go," said Jonathan. He started walking across the bloody street. "Keep up, we have no time to waste, nightfall will be much worse than now," Jonathan said.

We must have walked about five blocks North, when about seven gnarled, bloody creatures came around the corner, one started charging at Jonathan immediately. He immediately responded with his Assault Rifle. The charging zombie fell right in front of Jonathan's feet, but Jonathan continued to fire at the remaining six zombies. He stopped to reload, but two zombies were about to get him. When I thought he was going to be killed, he finished reloading and nailed down the two zombies with a rain of bullets. He finished the remaining four off with two more Assault Rifle magazines. "You've changed a lot since High School," I said. "The military does that to you, shapes you into a whole new person," Jonathan said. "And here, I want you to have this," Jonathan continued, handing me a pistol. "A pistol! I don't know how to fire a gun," I said! "When the time comes, you will now what to do," Jonathan said. "I hope your right..." I said.

[jqzjqz]

"We need to find a safe house, pronto." Jonathan ordered.
"None of these places will do." I answered. "We just killed 7. Well... you just killed 7." Both of us looked at the dead undead and chuckled slightly. Then Jonathan said, "let's move out then."

We started walking until we heard a low groan. We turned around and saw that one of the zombies were still alive and starting crawling towards us. I looked at Jonathan expecting him to finish the job, but then he looked at me and said "your first time firing a gun?"
"Pretty much.." I answered while taking aim at the crawling zombie. Jonathan laughs and suddenly takes the pistol from me, cocks the slide back, and hands it back to me. "Now you're good to go."
"Oh.. thanks" I said. I take aim for the head and pull the trigger. "Good job!" Jonathan reacted. "You got a Glock17 in your hands, it's semi-auto and has extended mags with 15 rounds. You got 14 rounds left, so aim carefully and fire sparingly. As for me, I got several clips left."
"Well, there's a gun shop about 8 more blocks away from here. Should be a safe spot if it hasn't been broken into already" I responded, "And we can grab more firepower and ammo for my glock."
"Roger, let's go!" he exclaimed.

We passed 5 blocks. The roads were empty, some windows to stores have been shattered and some entrances and front doors have been left wide open. We spot a zombie across the street coming out of one of a diner. An old wrinkly bald man with no arms, walking slowly with a limp and struggling to moan. He clearly begins to walk towards us and I take aim. "Save your ammo" Jonathan said. "he doesn't look like much of a threat." We started walking.

We finally reached our destination. A small rectangular building with one door and one window. Al's Gun Shop, in neon green lights above the entrance. The front door was left wide open, but the window glass was still intact. About a month ago, the shop put up a big sign with "GOLD FOR GUNS" printed on it since the government thought it would be a good idea to inflate the dollar 4 years ago. The value of the dollar was decreasing so fast that every product or service on the market was become expensive, almost not even affordable for the middle-class. Most small businesses decided to only accept gold to compensate for their expected losses, and Al's Gun Shop was one of them. Not too sure if the sign was effective for business, but it would help in keeping us hidden from zombies while we're inside.

"Al's Gun Shop. Looks decent. So what's the hold up?" Jonathan asks. "Let's go in there already before that old man zombie gets on our tail!"

[EKublai]

I hesitated slightly at the doorway, staring through the glass into the inky dark of the shop. What if... I wondered. I knew Al. Al was my friend which might be hard for some to envision. Most people think of gun store owners as white red-neck libertarians going on all day about their second amendment rights. But Al wasn't like that, not at all. He was a businessman. He got his license to sell because guns was good business. But me and Al went back all the way to elementary school. All the trouble the cooler and braver kids got into by the rock piles while we sat at the edge of the quarry, sipping Juicy Juice. As I looked into Al's place of occupation, I couldn't help but be struck by the fear of God, the fear that life was about crash my past and present together in a way I wasn't prepared for.

"Get down," Johnathan whispered and we got down. "Even if there aren't zombos, anyone hiding in here's probably scared and ready to blow away the first thing that comes into view." Thoughts crossed my mind, slow and hot like razor burn and I felt my face get red with the stress. I felt Johnathan's impatient sigh on the back of my neck and, still kneeling, I opened the door to electronic bell sounds.

We duck-walked quickly behind the preliminary row of certified angus beef jerky. We took turns making quick glances around our respective corners but neither of us could see very far into the shop. This was a problem, because we could distinctly hear movement near the back cash register.

"Hello!" I called to no response. "If there's anyone in here, we are not zombies!"
Again, no sound other than the indecipherable scraping of something against the floor. Slowly, my eyes adjusted to the darkness and I was able to see a shadowy moving shoe by the counter where the sounds were coming from. Slowly, my eyes identified and a quietly thrashing leg attached to the shoe.

Johnathan, who had also identified the leg, said, "I'm gonna see."
"Alright," I said, "I'm behind you."

As we crept down the aisle, I kept glancing through the glass cases, wondering if any of the handguns on display would be better than the glock. But I guess what mattered more was how many guns and shells or rounds you had.

"Shit," I heard Johnathan say. He stood up quickly and rounded the counter. "Shit!" he exclaimed more loudly.

I sprang up from behind the counter. "Aw... Oh no."

It was Al and though he moved, it wasn't because he was alive.

"He's got that hunger in his eyes," said Johnathan.

"Why's he tied up?" I asked, and I could feel the panic in my rising. "Who did this?"

"Who cares, they did because they had to." Johnathan raised his rifle.

"Wait, don't point that at him," I said, and already I could feel the tears well up. "Don't you fucking point that at him. We used to go to school together. I've known him for years."

"He's not your friend anymore," Johnathan said, though I could the quavering in his voice. He didn't look at me, but kept starring down the thin barrel of his rifle into Al's growling face.

"I can't let you do it," I said.

"It's gotta be done," said Johnathan angrily.

"Then... fuck! I'll do it, just... turn away please."

Johnathan backed off, went behind the counter, and started looking at ammunition. I started to raise the glock. I stopped though, when I saw a piece of paper with some handwriting on it by Al's foot. Shivering, I bent down and picked it up, ignoring Al's feeble kicks at my hand. I read it:

Hi,

My name is James McGrady, I am from the town of Osage. If you are reading this, then you are he unlucky person who needs to finish off what I could not do. You see, I knew this man. His name is Al Kliese and he was a good man with a family and kids and now none of that matters anymore for him. He needs to be put out of his misery, but I couldn't do it. I have too many memories of this man from my childhood, and to fire a bullet through those memories just...I can't do it, I'm sorry. Please right my wrong and send this poor soul to Heaven, whoever you are.

With the love of God,
James McGrady

"James McGrady?" I whispered. I knew that name. He was... he was... He used to bully me, right around the time Al and me started drifting apart. He didn't really say all that much, he just used to punch me. And then, when it was all over and I got taller than him in eighth grade, James offered me a cigarette as a peace offering. I remember being so ecstatic that I forgot I had never smoked before, ans so choked badly on the first drag.

So James was surviving. For some reason, I felt a sudden urge to find this man. I was angry at him, angry for leaving me to do his dirty work for him. But at the same time, this was a man from my past. His memories in many ways were my memories and in that way I felt a kinship to him.

I must find him, I thought. I will find him... and then... I don't know.

As my finger curled around the trigger, Al moaned through the tape covering his mouth. For a moment I thought he was pleading. Pleading for himself, but also for me, for James, for his wife and kids. As I stared at him I started tearing up and I felt my resolve waver. I shook my body several times to get my guard back up. I stared fiercely at the body before me.

"What do you want me to do, Al!?" I cried, "What the hell should I do!?"

Al growled.

[jqzjqz]

*BANG!* (sound of one bullet hitting the tile floor)
The bullet entered in the left side of Al's temple and exited out his right ear.

"What the hell?!" I shouted, "Why did you do that?!"

"It had to be done." Jonathan said calmly, "You obviously couldn't do it because you knew the guy. It's a whole lot easier to shoot someone you don't know."

"You just don't shoot any one!" I replied aggressively, "Especially if they're tied down in a chair!"

"Shut the fuck up, you hypocrite" Jonathan responded, "You just shot a stranger outside not too long ago. Your first time too, right? Besides, we don't have time to waste on reminiscing about the past in front of somebody who has already turned into a zombie."

"This is different! I knew this person! We went to elementary school together." I answered. "Wait..."
(sounds of moaning and groaning coming from outside)

Jonathan and I walked quickly to the gated front door of Al's shop. We stopped as soon as we saw what was wandering outside. A group of zombies. One of them saw me and started walking towards our direction. Jonathan swiftly closed the front door and turned the locks. We pushed the nearest shelf to barricade the door and began to search for any thing else we could use to reinforce the barricade. Tables, boxes, and a coat hanger stand.

"They must've heard the gunshot." I contemplated, "I knew you shouldn't have shot him."

"Damn it." Jonathan said. "I didn't find much here either. Other survivors must've took all the weapons. I did find more ammo for your glock."

Jonathan handed me the box of ammo and two empty clips. I started to load the clips with bullets to stay sharp and prepared.

"Once you're done with that, we gotta get outta here." Jonathan commanded. "We can argue later, when we find a place where there aren't any zombies. I saw a ladder in the back room. It should lead to the roof of this shop. I'll check it out." Jonathan walks to the back room.

Looking around, I see backpacks and jackets hanging on the wall. Al even put price tags on each individual backpack, tags read "For Sale, $89.99." "No wonder you got so much merchandise, Al" I said to Al's dead corpse leaning in a chair. I put on a nice black leather jacket and grab one of the overpriced backpacks. "Sorry Al, but I need these."

(laughing coming from the backroom)
"Quit your bullshitting. We need to get outta here." Jonathan said.
(sound of glass shattering and the volume of moan and groans increase)
"Hurry up before they get in here." Jonathan climbs up the ladder.

I throw the ammunition into the backpack and put it around my shoulders, then put the clips in the front pockets of my new jacket. "Thanks again, Al."
(more glass shattering) I quickly run to the back room and start climbing the ladder. Jonathan was waiting on the rooftop while staring down at what was below us from the two story shop. I close the ladder hatch shut, just in case the zombies break through the barricade.

*BANG!* (sound of one bullet hitting the tile floor)
The bullet entered from the left side of Al's temple and exited to his right ear.

"What the hell?!" I shouted, "Why did you do that?!"

"It had to be done." Jonathan said calmly, "You obviously couldn't do it because you knew the guy. It's a whole lot easier to shoot someone you don't know."

"You just don't shoot any one!" I replied aggressively, "Especially if they're tied down in a chair!"

"Shut the fuck up, you hypocrite" Jonathan responded, "You just shot a stranger outside not too long ago. Your first time too, right?"

"This is different! I knew this person! We went to elementary school together." I answered. "Wait..."
(sounds of moaning and groaning coming from outside)

"What was that?" I wondered.
Jonathan and I walked quickly to the gated front door of Al's shop. We stopped as soon as we saw what was wandering outside. A group of zombies. One of them saw me and started walking towards our direction. Jonathan swiftly closed the front door and turned the locks. We pushed the nearest shelf to barricade the door and began to search for any thing else we could use to reinforce the barricade. Tables, boxes, and a coat hanger stand.

"They must've heard the gunshot." I contemplated, "I knew you shouldn't have shot him."

"Damn it." Jonathan said. "I didn't find much here either. Other survivors must've took all the weapons. I did find more ammo for your glock."

Jonathan handed me the box of ammo and two empty clips. I started to load the clips with bullets to stay sharp and prepared.

"Once you're done with that, we gotta get outta here." Jonathan commanded. "We can argue later, when we find a place where there aren't any zombies. I saw a ladder in the back room. It should lead to the roof of this shop. I'll check it out." Jonathan walks to the back room.

Looking around, I see backpacks and jackets hanging on the wall. Al even put price tags on each individual backpack, tags read "For Sale, $89.99." "No wonder you got so much merchandise, Al" I said to Al's dead corpse leaning in a chair. I put on a nice black leather jacket and grab one of the overpriced backpacks. "Sorry Al, but I need these."

(laughing coming from the backroom)
"Quit your bullshitting. We need to get outta here." Jonathan said.
(sound of glass shattering and the volume of moan and groans increase)
"Hurry up before they get in here." Jonathan climbs up the ladder.

I throw the ammunition into the backpack and put it around my shoulders, then put the clips in the front pockets of my new jacket. "Thanks again, Al."
(more glass shattering) I quickly run to the back room and start climbing the ladder. Jonathan was waiting on the rooftop while staring down at what was below us from the two story shop. I close the ladder hatch shut, just in case the zombies break through the barricade.

"There's about 10 of them down there and several others scattered around the streets." Jonathan said. "I guess those things did hear my gunshot."

A sudden bright red light flashes from a window in the building across the street from Al's shop. Jonathan and I are blinded briefly. "What the fuck?!" Jonathan yells.

Then a brick is thrown to us landing about 5 yards away. The red light from the window disappears. I look at the brick and discover a piece of folded paper had been taped onto the brick. I rip off the tape, unfold the paper, and read the message.

[jqzjqz]

Whoops... sorry about the huge error in that last post.