Mark Lennox gazed at the empty small town of God knows what before him. It reminded him of old Western movies and the ghost towns they roamed and passed through. Except this was this city, and instead of being a cowboy, he was back to being the street punk who knocked out any mother fucker who got in his way. Zombie or not. First, he would take what he needed. He was running out of food supplies, and this was the quickest way, even though the silence was a warning to his ears. He was angry and no fucking zombie was gonna keep him from his goddamn food. As Malcom X once said "By any means necessary."

There was almost a smile at the irony of it all.

His thirst did not quench for blood and his stomach did not feel like churning when seeing it. He never felt appeasing for blood, but he's not gonna be no fucking pussy about it either. For the sake of his appetite he had a heavy iron pan gripped tightly by calloused hands, he made his way into a local Jewel. Mark even humored himself by taking a grocery shopping cart and walking through the aisle. It was still a dead silent so even the most softest foot steps could be heard.

Going through the aisle, he stacked up on cans, crackers, and anything else he knew wouldn't rot if he didn't eat right away. Since the zombies arrived, he had grown used to eating no more than a few things a day. Nothing particular. Kinda like eating a few hors d'oeuvres throughout the day, but only three times a day. The man tried to choke out his depression, but to no avail. He remembered the time when he ate plentiful back home with Lucy and Sabrina. It didn't matter what food came from which culture background, Sabrina could cook it with ease. It was true when they said a way to a man's heart was through his stomach. He let out a sigh, remembering the last meal he had with her and his kiddo. His mouth salivated, his heart aching in the memory. They were so happy. They were safe. Now they were separated, and for some odd knownst, he was sure they were alive. Somewhere. 

Finding no zombies within, he moved the cart to head out when a form caught his eye. It was of a small girl and she was curled up under the cash register. Leaving his cart as she appeared to be human, he still gripping the iron pan, went over to check out 7 and ducked to her, his hand lightly reaching out to touch her shoulder. She awoke with a fright, blue eyes darting up at him in fright. He started, she had Sabrina's eyes. She looked about three years old or so. He really didn't feel like beginning a caravan, but he couldn't leave her by herself. Maybe a long the way he'd find a safe place for her while he continued on his mission.

"Are you ok?"

A small nod was good, she didn't appear to be in shock, and no evident injuries. Her black curly hair tied in two pigtails just above her shoulders.

"I won't hurt you. Are you hungry?" She gave a small nod and he noticed she was beginning to lose the tension. Fucking world. No child should know what the feeling of tension is. Not until their teen years. She allowed him to take her small hand in his free hand, keeping his sharp eyes glancing about protectively. The girl let out a small gasp and Mark was quick to turn his body, the iron pan perfectly hitting one of the crawlers to the ground, instinctively turning to block the girl's vision of the horrible sight. Directors and film producers were almost complete accurate in how zombies looked. He's glad he previously had watched movies with some knowledge on them He flexed his muscles, shuddering in the sight of one of those things. He was glad it was still during the day. At night? It was worse, and they seemed to be hungrier at night.

"We have to hurry. There could be more." He hoisted her into the shopping cart before almost a a quick jog, getting to his jeep. He flitted her and the groceries into the back after making sure the coast was clear, commanding her to hop over to the back seat and fastening herself in the car seat he had for his kiddo. He smiled as she obeyed his orders silently. This was good. He grabbed some animal crackers with him before closing the trunk and moving to the driver's seat. Making sure she was indeed fastened, he opened the animal crackers and passed them on back to her, started the engine, and began to take off. He would make a note later to get some supplies she may need as well. Checking the review mirror, she was smiling in content.

“You want me to do what?”

“We want you to go to Chicago, and work with them there. We have intelligence that states there are a plethora of children within the city, and it’s your duty to find out if this is the case, get the children, supplies, and then find a safe house for them. Once that’s done, return here, and we’ll have your next mission for you.”

“Sir, don’t you think that’s a little dangerous?”

“This is what you signed up for, isn’t it? The protection of children in all matters? Things haven’t changed Agent Callahan.  You will be going with Agent Crawford, Agent Milford, Agent Frost, and Agent Babcock.  They will help you with whatever you need. Since there are no airplanes anymore, you will be going by car, and we have gathered enough fuel for you to make the trip there and back.  Good luck, Agent Callahan.”

That was a little over a month ago, and she was the only one that was still living.  Agent Milford and Agent Babcock were killed while looking for food at a gas station on the way to Chicago, and the other two were killed a few weeks back. The children that were supposedly alive were non-existent save for a two year old female named Alaya, a five year old male named Ron, a five year old female named Tara, sixteen year old female named Angela, and a seventeen year old male named Micah. The rest were gone and Aimée hoped that they had already been rescued.  She followed any and all leads made known to her, but each time there were only zombies left. The vehicle they arrived in remained hidden, but thanks to the immense traffic jams out of the city, it was virtually impossible to escape. Not only that, it wasn’t exactly safe to venture out, and the only time she left the apartment complex was to find food or to follow up on a lead.  

She had lost all contact with the FBI agency in Washington D.C., but she remained optimistic that things would turn around for the best. They at the moment had plenty of food and supplies since she and Micah had gone out the night before, but it was becoming increasingly hard to remain quiet, and she knew being in the city probably would be their downfall sooner or later.  For the most part, the entire complex had been cleared out, and as far as she knew, the apartment they were in, 519 was the only one that had living people in it.   No one had even ventured here in a couple of weeks, and as long as they remained incognito, they would remain safe.  At that very moment, they were all in the back part of the apartment, invisible to anything that might try to see them through the front door.  The windows had long been blocked, and there was no telling anyone even lived in the apartment, which is what she wanted.

“Aimée… Ron said he heard something banging downstairs.”

“Angela, there hasn’t been anything below us for weeks. He’s probably just hearing things.”

“What if it’s the zombies?”

“Then we’ll remain quiet and it’ll be okay. Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you kids. Why don’t you and the others go play in the playroom silently?”

Watching as Angela took Tara, Ron, and Alaya to the far left room in the very back to play, Callahan nodded towards Micah.  She didn’t want to alarm the other kids, but she most definitely had heard something going on below them. Whatever it was had reached their floor, and from the sound was systematically going through the apartments.  Grabbing her glock 23, she handed it to Micah while picking up the 12 gauge shotgun.  The two moved forward and took aim at the door as something on the other side was attempting to pry it open.  Knowing to shoot only if it was a zombie, both kept their fingers on the triggers the moment the door was opened.  Standing on the other side was a red haired male that didn’t particularly look like a zombie, but one could never be too careful.

“Put your hands up and don’t move or we’ll fill your carcass with so many holes you’ll be saintly!”

It didn’t take long before the door to the apartment popped open, the lock itself popping out of the door jam. The door shook, vibrating rapidly as it swung open.

“Put your hands up and don’t move,” he heard as soon as he saw the barrels of the weapons leveled at him by the two youths within, “or we’ll fill your carcass with so many holes you’ll be saintly!”

The speaker was a young woman, no older than 19 by the look of her. Next to her stood a boy of about the same age. Maybe they were boyfriend and girlfriend, though it was possible they were brother and sister, though maybe only half at best, since there was little resemblance. Austin immediately raised his hands, surprised to see anyone in the apartment, much less have weapons aimed at him. Behind him he heard the familiar click of Miles putting his MP5 from “Safe” to “Full Auto” and he knew that James was right there next to him with his crossbow aimed.

“Sorry!” Austin told the two inside, “We didn’t think there was anyone even in these apartments. We’ve been using them to resupply our camp for the past few weeks. We’ll just leave you be. Sorry about your door.”

Slowly closing the door, the girl could be heard saying something, but it was ignored in favor of the radio in Austin’s pocket going off.

“Hurry it up, we gotta go!”

Outside another of their group had been left with the vehicle, in case an abrupt exit needed to be made and to provide back-up in case they should come into contact with the zombies in the city. Not only was the Jeep there to bring back supplies, it also carried equipment they might need in an emergency. There was a CB radio within the vehicle that was tuned to the same frequency Austin’s was tuned to. The former green beret grabbed the hand-mic from it’s place at his belt loop and held down the transmit button.

“On our way down, what’s going on?” But no sooner had he asked the question than they reached the door to the side stairwell with its windows over looking the city. They heard screaming and saw a small group of males and females running through the streets no more than four blocks away. They were being converged on by a group of zombies, though more were flooding in from adjoining streets. They weren’t going to make it.

“We got geeks everywhere! We gotta bug out!”

Grabbing the railing that lined the stairs, Austin and the three men with him wasted no time in leaping from flight to flight, skipping the stairs in favor of bounding each floor. Hitting the bottom, Austin threw his hip into the push-bar that held the door closed while withdrawing the .45 at his thigh. As the trio sprinted out to the street, Griffin stopped and turned to the apartment complex.

There was no way to tell for sure how far the horde would make it, or how curious they would be. Breaking open the door to apartment 519 the way he did made it effectively uselss, but surely they could place enough furniture behind the door and remain quiet enough that the creatures might ignore them. Even if they could be rescued, there was no room in the Grand Cherokee for them, and they’d be bringing more people back to a site that was low on supplies now as it was.

Turning his back and going back to the vehicle, Austin continued to justify his decision to leave the two teenagers. They’d lived there so far without any issues, no reason they wouldn’t be able to survive this as well. It would probably take the zombies a while to gain entry to the complex anyway, they weren’t well known for their problem-solving, and even if they did, it’d take them forever to reach the fifth floor, not to mention actually find the apartment that had humans in it, and then figure out how to get in. Especially if the door was blockaded. No, they’d be just fine.

As he told himself this, Austin found himself running around to the back of the Grand Cherokee and opening the rear hatch. Before him was laid out a selection of gear and weaponry they brought along just in case. Quickly, Austin selected the H&K 416 assault rifle out. It already had a suppressor and scope attached, ready for silent sniping.

“What are you doing…?” came the question from Miles as he stood in the front passenger door, waiting to jump in and go. The engine was already running. James was already in his seat with the door closed.

“Something incredibly stupid,” Austin replied, throwing on an armored vest with various pouches on it. Armor was pretty pointless against zombies, though useful against hostile survivors. Usually if you were going to be bitten it was in an extremity, but in this case his vest carried all of his gear in addition to his armor, so it was just easier to carry both. Dragonskin body armor was incredibly light and flexible, so the compromise was simple.

“You’re going back for those kids?” Miles questioned again.

“Yes. You’re going to go back home and come back with two more vehicles to extract us with. There might have been more than just those two in there.”

“You know it’ll take us at least a half hour to get there and come back.”

“Yes I do, I’ll be fine,” as if saying so made him commit to the idea, he grabbed the M4 Super 90 shotgun out of the back as well and strapped it to his back. Two boxes of shells were dropped into the large cargo pockets on his pants to complement his selection.

“It’s stupid, you’re risking your life and we can barely take care of our own as it is.”

“I can’t just leave them there,” Ausin talked while he loaded, making sure his vest still carried ten magazines for his assault rifle and four for his pistol in addition to what he already had. Finally he was ready, pulling on a pair of Kevlar gloves with hardened knuckles.

“Don’t drive like a mad man to get back here in time,” he told Miles, “I’ve got plenty of ammunition to hole up in there for a while. Just so long as we don’t draw a lot of attention we’ll be okay. I shouldn’t need the shotgun, but if it comes down to it, I can barricade myself in and last quite a while.”

Slamming the back hatch, Austin looked at Miles, “Well, get going. The longer you wait the longer it takes you to get back here.”

Miles didn’t say anything as he shut his door. He looked away from Austin as the car pulled away and headed back to their little community.

Sighing to himself, Austin wondered silently why in the world he was bothering to take the risk. In this world there wasn’t room for compassion. If you could help someone, great, but it only hurt you in the end to go out of your way, risk your neck, or spread your supplies thin for somebody else, especially someone you didn’t know. He couldn’t help but feeling guilty for breaking open the door though.

Turning to look down the street the horde was approaching, and several people were in front of the crowd, navigating the maze of vehicles as best as they could. Some of them were looking pretty worn down though, and the zombies just kept coming with their steady pace. Austin had about 500 yards before he’d have to worry too much about them, and their pace gave him plenty of time to get up into the apartment if he needed to. In the meantime he could provide a little bit of cover fire for the survivors trying to escape.

A black Escalade sat in the road a few rows deep. Austin gripped his 416 in one hand and used his other to help climb up on top, where he got into a good, solid prone position and peered through the sights of his scope.

The wind was negligible in the city, therefore he’d only have to account for distance with his shots. Carefully lining up the shot, he centered his crosshairs on the forehead of the lead zombie, who was almost within arm’s reach of the three survivors escaping through what had become a graveyard of vehicles. On the exhale he gently squeezed the trigger, feeling the weapon fire and soon after hearing the ballistic crack that filled the streets, watching the zombie he’d targeted fall even as he selected another target.

The weapon’s suppressor prevented the bang of the rifle itself, but the round still flew at incredible velocities, producing the supersonic bang that all high-power rounds did. However that tiny sonic boom wasn’t centralized to his location, and so would be difficult if not impossible to trace his location with. Round after round flew through the air towards his targeted mass of zombies, doing what he could to improve the survivors’ chances of making it out alive.

Glancing through his scope, two of the survivors seemed typical, running frantically for their lives, dogged by their pursuers. One was a black male, about average height and build, with long, dark hair and a scraggly beard. He was leading a white female, dressed in a tank top and jeans with brown hair pulled back into a ponytail. Both of them were breathing heavily and their clothing soaked with sweat. Terrified, they dodged in and out clumsily between vehicles, well aware that their lives were mere yards from being over.

Way out in front of both of them, however, was an asian woman, her hair pulled back tight. The look on her face wasn’t one of desperate panic, or even fear, merely concern and concentration. She athletically vaulted over smaller cars entirely and hurdled the hoods of larger vehicles in her path, rather than taking the winding path between them. Strapped to her back was a Japanese katana. Austin had seen several people carrying these for self defense since the outbreak started, but most of them had been pawn shop knock offs, providing more comfort than protection. He’d seen several break in combat, and watched their owners get chomped to bits soon after. Something about this woman’s demeanor though suggested that her weapon was the real deal, and she knew how to use it.

Coolly, he watched her sprinting and hurdling ahead like a track star-gymnast.  It wasn’t long though, before he returned his attention to the other two civilians behind her, popping off five more rounds into their nearest pursuers. Realizing that he would need to make his way up to higher ground- more specifically, to apartment 519- before too long, Austin quickly emptied his magazine into the closest eight zombies before reloading with deft precision and pumping out thirty more rounds in about as many seconds, clearing a decent path and giving the zombies something to stumble over in their relentless pursuit.

Figuring he’d bought enough time, Austin quickly popped in another magazine, dropping the empty into one of his cargo pockets along with the other and getting up from the vehicle. He waved emphatically to the survivors, trying to draw their attention before jumping down and sprinting toward the nearly abandoned building he’d just left. Bursting through the front door, he made his way up the stairs. He hoped there weren’t any zombies still in the building, trapped behind closed doors waiting for something to rouse them.

Coming to the door of 519, he banged sharply on the door with his knuckles, well aware that there may already be a bookcase or couch barring the door.

“It’s the guy who broke your door open a few minutes ago. There’s a horde of zombies coming this way and I didn’t want to leave you here on your own. I’ve got enough weapons and ammunition to keep us safe for quite a while and there’s a couple of vehicles coming to pick us up if you don’t feel like staying in the city. If you let me in I can set up a defensible position and pick off some of them before they get to the building!”

Behind the door he heard hushed, but sharp tones before finally he heard the screech of something large and heavy sliding across a hardwood floor. Taking that as his invitation, Austin pushed the door open and stepped inside. As he entered and nodded to the young woman who seemed to be in charge, a child stepped out from the hallway, half hiding behind the corner of a wall, her eyes wide with fear.

“They’re coming… aren’t they?”

Austin didn’t respond, but set his jaw as he realized there were actual children here, not just these teenagers, and moved briskly across the room to the sliding glass doors that opened out into the balcony. Once there, he took a knee and set his automatic shotgun down on the cement floor next to him. Surveying the scene from a new angle, he saw the monsters that had been pouring in from adjoining streets measured easily in the hundreds. Combining with the main body that was pursuing a meal down the main road, their numbers would be more than Austin had ever encountered in a single sitting.

“They must be running out of food sources…” Austin thought to himself as he opened the box of shotgun rounds, slipping one after the other into loops on the back of his belt. He could hold twenty there, and the weapon itself held eight, with another round in the chamber. It was a last resort weapon, in case they over-ran the building and were in the hallways. Austin didn’t want to need it, hoping instead to be rescued before the need arose.

Once everything was staged, Austin took up a kneeling firing position with his suppressed 5.56 mm assault rifle and began to pick out targets, seeking first those closest to the running survivors, and then next those closest to the apartment.

“Pft! … Pft! … Pft!” was the sound his weapon made, usually followed only a few seconds later by a loud crack resounding from the streets where the small sonic boom originated. Body after body fell, littering the streets with undead corpses.

It wasn’t long before the oriental woman began to run across one of the intersection threatened by the horde. She pulled out her weapon as they drew close and looked determined to carve herself a path. Behind her, the other two runners were in a similar predicament, but they had no weapon with which to protect themselves. They began to check the handles of vehicles, frantically praying they could find an unlocked vehicle and secure themselves inside. Austin began to lose hope for them. An extraction under those kind of numbers was nearly impossible, and it would waste lives to try and rescue them. All he could do was hope the zombies didn’t breach the car’s windows and pray they could last long enough for the crowd to lose interest and thin out.

Meanwhile the katana-wielding woman was a fighter, and he could provide some help for her. He redirected his weapon to the swarm moving in on her as she constantly moved, not allowing them a chance to flank her and catch her surrounded.

“Pft! Pft! Pft! Pft!” Austin’s fire picked up speed as the targets were more densely packed now. It was an easy task to line up shot after shot and he reloaded methodically, counting to himself how many rounds he had used up and comparing it to the 330 he’d started with. These targets didn’t take cover, nor did they try to avoid the bullets, and so it was easy to make head-shot after head-shot at less than 400 meters from higher ground.

“If you have 5.56 ammo,” Austin asked into the apartment, “I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t mind reloading these mags for me in case this gets too hairy. I brought 330 rounds, but I don’t know how bad this is going to get. They haven’t found us yet, but I don’t know how long it’ll take before they do, if they do.”

Hoping they had ammo that they didn’t mind sparing, Ausin continued to use his scope and superb marksmanship skills to sight-in and destroy one monster after the other, until one made his breath catch.

“What the f-…?” he said under his breath, catching himself as he realized tiny ears might be listening. He looked twice at the target in his sights and chuckled before pulling the trigger. A zombie that had unmistakably been Oprah Winfrey in life had drawn close to the swordswoman and been granted an extra half-second of unlife before being snuffed out like those piled around her.

With the bodies building up, it was becoming increasingly difficult for the creatures to move in on their prey, and Austin began to feel like at least this one would make it. Hopefully those vehicles arrived soon and all of them would be able to get out of here. Realizing now that with the addition of one child, there might be more, he turned back into the apartment and asked, “Exactly how many people will we need to extract? That is assuming you decide to leave with me.”

Aimée ignored the groan coming from Micah at her comment.  It was probably one of the lamest things she had ever said to anyone, but it just slipped out. Generally she was very composed, but apparently the filter between her mouth and brain wasn’t functioning at the moment.  Her hand holding the gun never wavered even as two more appeared behind the intruder with their own weapons pointed right back at her and Micah.  Micah however wasn’t as poised and despite never lowering his arm, was having a lot of difficulty keeping it from trembling slightly.  She didn’t blame him, because despite the fact that they were the same age, she had a great deal of more experience in the face of danger than he did.

“Sorry! We didn’t think there was anyone even in these apartments. We’ve been using them to resupply our camp for the past few weeks. We’ll just leave you be. Sorry about your door.”

Just as quickly as the stranger came, he closed the door, leaving the two in confusion.  Shrugging a little, the seventeen-year-old lowered her gun, Micah doing the same thing.  The fact that the door was busted would mean they would have to move.  If the group had been scavenging throughout the complex for supplies, which pretty much meant all of the doors were probably shattered apart, like 519’s.  That was extremely bad, because it meant they didn’t really have any place to go.  If she ever met that guy again, she was going to punch him in his face or maybe kick him in the nuts. Whichever was more convenient for her at the time.

“Thanks for jacking our door up and making us extremely vulnerable.”

She figured the man didn’t hear her, but the words made her feel a tiny bit better.  That feeling disappeared the moment a slew of screams broke the silence.  Both Micah and Callahan leapt into action and shoved the wooden entertainment center against the door before shoving the huge couch against that.  Moving over to the window that overlooked the street, she carefully glanced out, and was very dismayed to see a group of people running from a huge horde of zombies.  Things would be very bad if the slobbering dimwits figured out that there were live people in this complex, because ultimately the group would be trapped and she probably wouldn’t be able to save everyone.  Frowning heavily, she was extremely glad the kids remained in the room, hopefully playing blissfully without any knowledge of the imminent danger they were in.  Walking away from the window, she couldn’t help but hope the people running on the street would live.

“Micah, if things turn bad, I want you to take the kids, and follow the drill that has been set up.”

“Aim’z, I’m not going to leave you. I am –“

“I’m going to stop you right there, mister.  Don’t even say what I know you’re thinking.”

“But, it’s something –“

“No, if we survive, then you can tell me, but not until then.”

“Fine.”

Hearing rapid footsteps nearing their door, she hissed and was about to shout for Micah to run.  There seemed to be only one set, which meant it wasn’t a group of flesh-eaters, but that didn’t mean there were more on the way.  However, before she even got a single word out, the unknown entity rapped loudly on the door.  Normally zombies didn’t have the intelligence to do that, but that didn’t mean they weren’t capable of learning such a trivial motion. However, the person doing the knocking spoke, which alleviated any fears she had at that second.

“It’s the guy who broke your door open a few minutes ago. There’s a horde of zombies coming this way and I didn’t want to leave you here on your own. I’ve got enough weapons and ammunition to keep us safe for quite a while and there’s a couple of vehicles coming to pick us up if you don’t feel like staying in the city. If you let me in I can set up a defensible position and pick off some of them before they get to the building!”

Great, we were fine and dandy til this yahoo showed up.

“Don’t let him back in here. He could have been followed.”

“Micah, we can’t just leave him out there.”

Sighing, the two moved the furniture enough to allow the door to be opened.  Once he was inside, the entertainment center and couched were shoved right back against the broken door.  He was now wearing armor of some kind, which immediately made her a bit jealous. That was something she hadn’t been able to find; well nothing worthwhile that is.  She had been so focused on this apparent soldier that she hadn’t noticed that Tara had moved out of the room. It wasn’t until she heard the five-year-old’s voice that her Prussian blue eyes slid closed for a moment to remain composed.  Turning around to face the young girl, Aimée ran a few fingers through her red tipped black hair.

“Tara, go back to the others. We’re going to be just fine. I won’t let them get you, I promise.”

Waiting until the kiddo moved back to where she was supposed to be before joining the unnamed male at the balcony glass doors, she couldn’t help but wonder if things were about to turn very nasty.  Micah was obviously feeling the same way because she felt his presence a few steps behind her.  Watching silently as the overly armed male began picking off zombies, she couldn’t help but feel he was going to draw unwanted attention towards the complex.  

“Aim’z… look at the woman with the… what kind of weapon is that anyways?”

“A katana, Micah…”

Watching as the red-haired stranger systematically picked off zombies to help her out, Aimée found herself hoping the woman made it.  She seemed to be a fighter though, and could probably wield the Katana exceptionally, but it wouldn’t matter if she was outnumbered.  Still, there was that sinking feeling within Callahan’s stomach that seemed to grow the more shots that were fired off. Yes, she wanted the female to live, but not at the expense of her or the children in her care.  

“If you have 5.56 ammo, I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t mind reloading these mags for me in case this gets too hairy. I brought 330 rounds, but I don’t know how bad this is going to get. They haven’t found us yet, but I don’t know how long it’ll take before they do, if they do.”

“If you’d stop firing, they wouldn’t even know we were here!”

Aimée couldn’t help the anger that slipped while responding to him. It wasn't logical, and later she would smack herself for even saying it, but she wasn't exactly thinking clearly at the moment. Ammo was rare as it was, and she didn’t want to wind up giving it all to him, and then needing it in the long run.  However, he was probably going to be their best bet at surviving, so she nodded towards Micah, who headed off to check their ammo supply.  Moments later he returned, and handed her a bag that was full of 5.56 ammo.  Stepping out onto the balcony, she placed the 12 gauge against the railing before unzipping the bag, and reloading the mags.

“Exactly how many people will we need to extract? That is assuming you decide to leave with me.”

“We don’t really have much of a choice since our door is busted, and now the flesh-eaters might know there are live people in this complex.  We’ll bring all of our supplies of course to help out, and we have quite a bit.  Human-wise there’s two seventeen-year-olds; Micah Lorey and myself, Aimée Callahan. Then there’s a sixteen-year-old female named Angela Frost, two five-year-olds named Tara Lithe and Ron Harris, and a two-year-old female named Alaya Chase. Where’s the rest of your crew?”

Picking the shotgun back up, Aimée took aim, and thought about firing off two shots, but realized she probably wouldn't hit a damn thing.  Also, she didn’t really want to waste her shells, but felt kind of stupid just standing there while he continued to pick off slobber-face after slobber-face. It wasn’t until she heard Ayala crying that she decided to go back into the apartment. Quickly moving to the back of the apartment, she refrained from kicking open the door. Fear had momentarily grabbed hold of her, causing her mind to think of the worst possible reason for the little girl to be crying. Instead of boot-kicking the wooden thing open, Callahan opened it up and was relieved to see everyone alive without bite marks.

“What happened?! Why is Alaya crying?!”

“No want to be nommed on.”

Resting the shotgun against the frame of the door, Aimée picked up the toddler, and snugged her close.  The little blonde haired girl was shaking in fright, and was on the verge of full-out hysterics.  While hugging her, Aimée glanced around the room, trying to figure out what put the thought into the two-year-old’s head. It wasn’t until she noticed Ron’s expression that she realized he had said something just to get a rise out of the girl.  Now wasn’t the time to be messing around, and fought to keep from raising her voice.

“Ronald Harris, you can consider yourself grounded.  You should know better than to say something like that to her.  As soon as this current crisis is over, I will deal with you properly.  Alaya, no one is going to get near you, I promise. Now, you three be good for Angela, while I deal with what’s currently going on, okay?”

As soon as the three kids nodded in compliance, Aimée grabbed the gun, walked out of the room, and closed the door behind her.  Her steps brought her back to the balcony, and she couldn’t help but glance around nervously.  Every once in a while, she peered at the front door, making sure it remained blockaded and shut.  Her anger had long subsided, and she stepped out onto the balcony, checking out the horde situation.

“Thanks for coming back for us. I know you could have just left with your group without another thought… so, thank you.”

For the night, they were okay. To be in the company of a child brought a comfort, but also an ache in Lennox's chest. The young girl earlier, after they had settled into an abandoned apartment he had made sure was completely empty from roof to basement of zombies, had learned who she identified herself as. She called herself Ria. The apartment's windows were blocked up and so was the door. Before he allowed the two to settle, he silently placed things in front of both entries, and planned a good escape route if they were to need it. Vehicle was ready to go, only having taken things out they needed for the night, but leaving the majority inside the trunk.

Ria now was settled inside his sleeping bag, Lennox with his back against the wall. Idly, he would watch her sleep. It was different from when he first found her. Now she held a serenity about him which made him breathe out in content. At least she wasn't traumatized. She looked rather happy and content. There was a reddish color in her cheeks he didn't see, but he knew the color was a good sign. Before she was so pale, and this he promised to take care of her, even if it was despite him because he originally wasn't planning on stopping to build a caravan, but hey, Lucy wouldn't be too happy with him if he were to just leave this girl by herself. A smile at the thought of Lucy and him getting in a fight. The little things he missed, even if he couldn't stand when she was upset with him. The way her brow scrunched in frustration, or nose cringed in disgust with one of his many "amazing" perks to him.

It's true, you don't really know someone until you live with them. She had no idea what she had gotten herself into when she moved in or married him, but she had broken some of his childish habits and made him into a man. Though he wouldn't be fucking caught dead letting his friends, or anyone for the matter, know that. Well, he doesn't have to worry about that now. One thing he loved about a child, there was no judgement held in their innocent eyes. And if he could help it, he'd keep Ria like that from now on.

In the distance he heard some moaning and groaning, and took the defensive as well as the offensive. A watchful eye to the babe before silently lifting his form over to the windows and peeking through a crap. Nothing outside. Must be a night feast for feeding, and from the sounds he could make out, gun shots were being made. Being a familiar sound, he knew it was some distance away, so they were good for now. He returned back to his spot on the floor, crossing his arms and closing his eyes. He let all his other senses take over. Mainly hearing and touch. Zombies tended to not be very graceful in their walks.. er runs. It was like every video game or movie he ever watched. They were just out for the kill with no conscious or brain.

Everything before him began to glow with an orange hue as the sun set behind him on the city limits. He had since ceased firing, allowing the zombies to clamber around the base of the building the female he’d been covering had climbed up. She was impressive, clearing herself a path and hauling herself to safety the way she had. She seemed almost comfortable with it, like it was familiar. Austin hated to think how long she’d been surviving solely on her wits and sword.

Down the street another group of zombies had surrounded the vehicle that had served as a temporary refuge for the two straggling survivors that had trailed behind the woman with the katana. The vehicle hadn’t lasted long. The sheer weight of the zombies trying to get at them had broken the windshield. From there it had been a grisly scene that Austin forced himself to ignore, as he was focusing on protecting the target with the largest chances of survival. They may have been part of a group. If so, that would explain how they had been able to survive so long despite their poor physical condition and survival instincts.

Across the street, Austin saw the oriental woman catching her breath and for a moment they locked eyes. Austin merely nodded and picked up his weapons, walking back into the apartment to plan their egress.

“So we have seven children, including yourselves, is that correct?” Austin questioned the teenage boy and girl who seemed to be in charge.

“Right,” the boy responded.

“Okay, here’s the plan,” he instructed, “I’m going to go to the roof and watch for the rescue party. At the same time I’ll be able to keep a path from us to the vehicles clear with my rifle. Once they get here, I’ll give a whistle and you guys move as fast as you can from here to the vehicles. My people will be waiting there. Pack what you can, but pack light. We can always come back later and retrieve anything you leave behind. Keep the children between you, arm whoever is comfortable with a weapon, but do NOT fire unless they come within ten feet of you. I’ll be above picking off any that look like they’re coming for you. If we’re quiet about this, it shouldn’t be too complicated. Once you’re clear, I’ll follow on my own.”

“What about that woman on the roof?” the girl asked.

“I’ve been thinking about that… Anyone got a pen, paper, some tape and a baseball…? Or a fist-sized rock?”

“I think there’s something in the kitchen…” the boy revealed, walking towards a set of drawers beneath the vinyl countertop and pulling them open until he came across a drawer full of odd junk, including paper clips, staples, rubber bands, loose coins, push-pins, and other such odds and ends. Triumphantly, he pulled up a handful of pens and pencils along with a legal notepad and a roll of scotch tape.

“Alright,” Austin stepped forward to grab the stationary and began to scrawl a quick message on a strip of paper before stripping it off.

“Now… a baseball?”

“I have a football in my toy box,” a little boy spoke up for the first time. Austin looked down at him and smiled, turning and crouching to be at his eye level.

“Could I borrow it? I need it to help someone. I’ll try to get it back, and if I lose it, I’ll get you an even better one, I promise.”

“Mmm… Okay,” the child responded after giving it some thought, smiling and glad to be helpful to the big people. He ran back to his toy room and returned carrying a small, child-sized football. It was big enough and heavy enough to make it from rooftop to rooftop with a good throw though, and so Austin smiled.

“Thanks, champ! What’s your name?”

“Ronald,” the boy told him.

“Nice to meet you Ronald,” Austin introduced himself, taking off one of his gloves and extending his right hand to shake the child’s own, “I’m Austin.”

As he stood up and began taping the message to the football, he realized that was the first proper introduction he’d given.

“Sorry,” he said, addressing the girl and boy who seemed to be in charge, “I forgot to introduce myself after all the fuss. I’m Austin Griffin. Alpha Company, 2-20th Special Forces. Unfortunately I’m not part of a larger rescue. My unit disbanded. I’m just trying to do what I can.”

“Aimee Callahan,” the girl said, reluctantly taking the hand he offered forward, “Child Protection Division, FBI. These kids are the reason I’m in Chicago. As things got worse, we kind of got stuck.”

Austin merely nodded, though very surprised such at her youthful appearance. Perhaps she simply looked much younger than she was.

“Micah Lorey,” the boy said, “I’m helping Aimee.”

“Got it,” Austin said, pulling his gloves back on. Adjusting his sling, he began to head out the door.

“Where’s the stairs to the roof…?”

“I think if you just keep going up the main stairs there’s a door at the top,” Aimee responded, “but it might be locked.”

“Got it, get everyone rounded up and pack your things. I’m going to alert our friend across the street and set about clearing a path. I might be able to cause a distraction or two to get them to look the other way as well. Stand in the front hall and get ready. As soon as you hear me whistle, run like hell. There will be people outside to help guide you.”

“Thank you,” Aimee acknowledged the plan, nodding in appreciation.

“You’re welcome. Be ready,” he told them. And as if it were an after thought, he unslung the shotgun from his back and tossed it to Micah, along with a box of ammunition from his cargo pocket.

“Just in case.”

With that he headed toward the end of the hall where the staircase that connected each floor was and ran up to the top. Austin wondered how much time he had left before the rescue party arrived. Miles seemed pretty concerned when he left. Hopefully they’d have enough room in the vehicles. He was curious who would be coming along. They’d all find out soon enough. It’d be nice to complete this whole mission without taking any casualties of his own. The two that had been eaten hadn’t been his responsibility from the get-go, and so he didn’t feel like they were a personal loss on his part. However, he had helped rescue that woman, and so he felt that from now on, she was at least partially one of his to protect.

When he got to the top, a quick turn and shove on the door handle proved fruitless. Taking a short step back, Austin removed his body armor and put down his weapon, providing him better balance as he lifted his foot and heaved it forcefully against the door on its locked side, kicking it open. Grabbing his weapon, he quickly stepped out to clear the rooftop of any unwanted guests, but none were there.

After putting his armor back on, he walked over to the edge of the roof that bordered the street, adjacent to the building the woman had escaped onto.

Hoping to get her attention, Austin grabbed a small stone off of the rock that covered the rooftop and hurtled it across the way, letting it clack against the asphalt that covered the opposite roof. Austin watched the asian woman’s head perk up at the sound and her head turned toward it. Austin quickly launched another stone right behind the first, waving his arms wildly after the second stone came down on the other side.

Looking in his direction, the swordswoman’s attention was caught by the erratic flailing across the street. She waved one arm over her head in acknowledgement and walked to the edge, curious what this man was up to.

Austin reached into his pocket and grabbed out the toy football, showing it to the woman and mimicking the act of throwing it towards her until she got the idea. She clapped her hands together once an held them open, palms out, signaling she was ready to catch it.

Taking a few steps forward, Austin reached back and launched the missile as hard as he could. He didn’t really care if it was catchable, as long as it landed on that roof. And so it did. The ball sailed about ten feet over his target’s head and skittered along the ground behind her. She jogged back and read the message that was attached, nodding back at him in response to his plan.

Unslinging his weapon from his back, Austin used the scope to peer of into the distance, watching the road his people would be coming from. Just over the horizon, he spotted a cloud of dust forming. They needed to hurry, what little sunlight was left wasn’t going to last much longer, and he didn’t have the proper equipment to be taking 200 meter headshots in the dark.

Austin estimated they were about ten minutes away, and so he began to execute his plan. Aimee and Micah had been able to give him about 200 extra 5.56 rounds, more than enough to get him through, he thought as he took up a kneeling position at the edge of the roof, looking down at the mob of zombies in the street. Thankfully, they hadn’t continued to draw much closer to the apartment building than the few stragglers he had put down, but even still, he’d never seen so many at once.

He worried for his own community, as its proximity wasn’t far from the city. If these numbers continued to pour from the city in search of food, they wouldn’t be safe for much longer where they were. They would need to prepare to move soon, something none of them wanted. They were comfortable where they were, sleeping in make-shift beds with many of the comforts they had enjoyed prior to the outbreak thanks to the carefully rationed electricity generated by Samuel Henderson’s solar collector and the extensive plumbing experience they had in Raul Perdomo.

Come to think of it, Austin almost felt guilty about what little he could actually contribute to the community. His ability to plan, organize, and lead DID in fact make him an asset. They were much more comfortable and better off because of him, but he didn’t have any real-world skills to help them at the time, though he was exceptionally good at killing zombies. If and when they had to move, however, his special skill set would become more useful.

It was still awkward to think of them as zombies. Zombies. Those things from the movies. How in the world something like that actually came to exist for real was more than incredible. Every morning, Austin expected to wake up in his bed, or on a cot in Pakistan, or in a sleeping bag in a field in the Helmund province of Afghanistan. Anywhere to prove that he was dreaming all of this. But this was one nightmare he never woke up from.

As he reflected on the past 2 ½ months that had brought him to this point, he searched throughout the cars in the bunch. He needed noise to distract the zombies surrounding the asian woman’s rooftop. Something that would draw their attention. Unfortunately most of the vehicles hadn’t had their alarms activated when they were abandoned, and almost all of the stores had been looted months ago, their alarms going silent.

“Pft! Cra-KOW-KSSSH!”

Austin began to target windshields, his silenced weapon hiding his exact position, but the ballistic crack and the shattering of the glass proved enough to turn some undead heads in another direction.

“Pft! Cra-KOW-KSSSH!”

Austin repeated the process, generating more and more noise further down the street. Destroying the windshields would make these vehicles ineffective for refuge from zombies in an emergency, but he liked to think he was doing future survivors a favor by preventing them from thinking that they’d be safe behind the coffins of glass and aluminum.

Repeating the process further and further down the street, eventually the zombies began to move away from the building, shambling towards the noise down the road. Austin hoped that enough of them would leave that it would make the woman’s escape much easier.