In the beggining, they had holed up in a large building, commanded by one Sergeant Smith. However, due to his poor leadership, the survivors had to overthrow him, or die. The few soldiers that remained loyal to him perished, or scattered. So, with time, the survivors began making several walls in the heart of the city, using abandoned and out if commision cars to forge it. So, using this as their home, the survivors set up a constant routine. They sent teams on scavenging trips, erected small farms, and, all in all, made a durable order. However, as time went on, the zombie attacks became more frequent. Every attack there was a loss, and with each loss, their numbers grew fewer. As the undead assault webt on, they made a plan. They had to move. But where? This infection had likely reached all over the world. Where would there be such a thing as a safe haven? The intro >:3 will continue story ( yes, with characters in third person) later.
Jason White hadnt expected zombies when hed arrived in the city. Nor did any of his comrades. Nor did they expect that, years later, what remained of their unit would lead what may just be the last hope for mankind. He rammed a small group of zombies with his truck, and carefully weaves through the array of cars used as the entrance to the fortress. The cars were arrayed so that only a small amount of zombies could get through at a time, giving the snipers a chance to pick then off. However it was also wide enough so their vehicles could get through. He pulled into the base, and carefully began unloading what he had been able to scrounge from the city. As he was doing so, one of the survivors stepped forward from the activity of the other. "Jason. Ive got bad new, worse news, and good news. The bad news is, there is no good news. The worse news is, Lil Al just got sick, and we dont have any meds." Jason gave a small nod. He was the leader of the survivors, and any problems fell upon his shoulders. "I'll see what i can do, John." He got back in his truck and weved back through the cars, cursing himself. He didnt mind helping others, but when he couldnt get a moments rest? He drove his truck into a nearby CVS, and got out to see all the shelves had been looted. However, his expression didnt change as he walked to the back room. Finding the door locked, he drew his pistol and fired a lone round in the lock. He pushed open the door to see the room was full of supplies. No one ever thinks to check stock...
If anyone would like to a character added, follow me. Id prefer it be discussed in a closed discussion. Putting chapter 2 up soon. Also, please excuse any writing errors. Its hard when your on an ipod.
As Jason turned around the corber, he saw a wall if zombies, likely a hundred strong. As he drove around the corner, they took notice of him and immediately sprinted towards him, craving his flesh. His face took on a bloodthirsty smile as he shifted gears and prepared to do something hed only done in video games. As be barreled through them, the most of them were crushed underneath, while a few clung onto the truck. Jason began swerving in a desperate attempt to throw them off. While doing so, the blood of the undead he had ran over slicked his tires, making him lose control of the vehicle. The truck swerved into a nearby building, and Jason was thrown forth against the windshield, knocked unconcious. (15 minutes later) When he awoke, Jason was still dizzy. Soft pats slammed down against the truck, and his first thought was rain? But no, the undead had gathered around the truck, numbering in the hundreds. He looked around, desperate for escape. The front of the truck had crashed into a store, buried deep enough in to where if he kicked out the windshield, he could escape. Doing so, abd shouldering a pack of the medical supplies and his weapons, he launched out of the truck. He cautiously walked throughout the store, alert, wary for any undead.
Just as Jason brgan walking throughout the store, a lone zombie tackled him from the side. His rifle was trapped underneath him, and his handgun was sent flying from his hands. He held the undead at bay whilst sliding a knife from hus boot. He dispatched the zombie with a lone stab to the head, brainmatter pouring over him. He stood and steadied himself, checking for bites, before retrieving his handgun and rushing out the fire exit. Not bothering with caution he sprinted straight back to base, avoiding any stray zombie. As he git in, John approached hin with a smile on the sight of the medical supplies. "wow man, took tour time eh?" Jason punched him in the face before shoving the bag into his hands. " Next time you need something, get it yourself" Ideas? Character in mind? Wall me or put it here. Also, soon to introduce a new character!
Zecane, in his few years within the safety of what could be called a city, had gotten to know everyone well. Judging solely by their actions. Jason.., what a fool. If he didnt want to handle the job of leading what could be mankinds last hope, he shouldnt have taken the job. In Zecanes eyes, Jason's tine was ticking away... Lost in thought, he was brought back by a large blast. He looked to its origins to see a small group of poorly dressed men wielding tomohawks and rifles bursting forth from a hole in the eastern wall. Zecane, wasting no tine, slid down from his lookout post and charged into the thick of the attackers. He lowered his double barreled shotgun and filled one with more lead than he deserved. The survivors were quickly organizing, but as Zecane watched, several people were being dragged through the opening. Among them, he saw Jason, the blast having knocked him out. He slid two shells into his shotgun, but, before he could take aim, the attackers were gone. Zecane rushed into the storehouse and saw everything was in place. This would have joyed him, if he didnt suspect the group that had attacked had a diet pertaining of their fellow mankind.