Tristan: Slowly walking up to me, Chuck turns around and looks at Lincoln. "Damn," Chuck says, staring. Like me, he notices the revolver in Lincoln's hand. "His favorite gun," I say, pushing Chuck aside. Bending down, I pry the revolver from Lincoln's hand. Pushing the clip open, I look inside. "Careful with that," Chuck says, "There's a reason why that was Lincoln's favorite gun. It may look like just a simple revolver, but that gun had enough power to shoot through a dozen infected." "That explains Lincoln," I say, putting the clip back. "One bullet is missing." Chuck and I look back at Lincoln. "Thanks," I say before clearing my breath. "For everything." "Likewise," Chuck says. "I mean, you were an ass when we first met, and you were an ass a few hundred times afterward, but still, thanks for everything." Chuck and I nod our heads and leave. Walking back into the hallway, we see both Rebecca and Bailey standing side-by-side. "Hey," Rebecca says. "What was that? Is someone
Tristan: "This is bad," Chuck says before slamming the hood down. "Well, it's bad but it's not so bad." "Define not so bad," Bailey asks. "Well for starter," Chuck answers, "All our fixes yesterday almost completely drained the battery. There isn't much juice left in it." "Fuck," I say, shaking my head. "What does that mean? Another trip back to the mall?" "You blew up the helicopter," Rebecca says. "Whatever parts were left in there are gone." Once more, I shake my head. "Don't have a heart attack, grandpa," Chuck says. "I said almost. The battery is almost drained. Almost drained. I also said there isn't much juice left in it. Meaning there's a little bit left over. Not enough for the three of you to drive out of here but enough to jumpstart her if you give her a push." "Give her a push," I repeat. "What the hell are you talking about?" "Come on grandpa. Haven't you ever heard the phrase pop a clutch?" "Pop a what," Rebecca says. "If you call me grandpa one more time, I'l
Tristan: "Chuck," I scream as the infected bites down on his arm. Chuck screams as he shakes his arm but the infected wouldn't let go. Eyeing the car, Chuck grabs the infected by its head and slams it against the car over and over. After the fifth time, the infected opens its mouth and falls to the ground. "Chuck," I yell, running to see Chuck's arm. With a gun in my hand, I prepare to do it. I prepare to shoot Chuck. It sounds cruel. It sounds harsh, but it's better than being an infected. It's better than being a mindless zombie, only focusing on finding and eating. As I approach Chuck, I notice his wound. "What the hell," I say, not seeing any blood. Instead, I see something soft and white. "Relax," Chuck yells, seeing the gun in my hand. "And don't shoot me. At least not yet." "What the hell," I say again, pointing at what is supposed to be a bite mark. As I look closer, I realize what is going on. "Are you, are you wearing some sort of body armor?" "It's called padding," Ch
Bailey: "Will you knock it off," Rebecca yells from the front passenger's seat. "No," Tristan yells from the back seat. "Come on Bailey! Stop the car! You've been driving for hours! It's time to call it a night." I look out the window and see the moon floating high in the night sky. It accompanies by a bunch of stars around it and some dead trees beneath. "I'm not tired," I say. Tristan kicks the back of my seat and jerks me forward a bit. "Real mature." "I don't care if you're tired or not," Tristan says, "I care that it's nighttime. Don't you remember what I said before? Don't you remember anything? During the night, the infected are more active. They come out and hunt for food. Us!" "We're in a car," I say, "By the time any infected see us, we'll be five miles from them. You don't have to worry." "Of course, I have to worry," Tristan replies. "It doesn't matter if we're on foot or wheels, the infected will not stop us. They will see us and they will chase us until they are e
Tristan: As I turn left, I walk through a doorframe with no door and enter what looks like a storage room. There are a bunch of wooden shelves lined up against the walls but like the shelves outside, they're all empty. Besides the empty shelves and a push cart, there really isn't anything else in the storage room. I turn around and go the other way. Using my lighter as a guide, I walk past the first hallway and toward the right. The hallway leading to the right doesn't go very long. It ends after a few steps with two doors on opposite walls. I place my ears against both doors and prepare for any infected before opening. The door on the left turns out to be a small office with old paper scattered everywhere. There's a rusted chair and a broken desk in there but nothing more. I check the door on the right and it turns out to be a small restroom. I lower my gun and walk back to Rebecca who is still looking around the gas station. "Clear," I say as soon as she sees me. "How about you?
Rebecca: My eyes blink open as I yawn and stretch my arms. I want to rub my eyes but I forget I'm wearing a gas mask so I accidentally hit myself in the air. "Ahh," I say after hitting myself. I instead shake my head. "Fuck." Once fully awake, I look around and see Bailey still sleeping on the ground. She's sleeping near the extinguished fire, the fire nothing more than a pile of charcoal papers and a fainted trail of rising smoke. "Hey," I say as I push myself off the cold tiled floor. "Where the hell is Drifter?" I turn my head left and right but don't see the bastard anywhere. The only ones in the storage room are Bailey and me. "Hey Bailey," I say, dropping to my knee and shaking the girl. "Wake up. Come on. Get up." "What," Bailey says, pushing herself up. She yawns and clears her throat and also hit herself in the head. "What? What is going on? Is it infected?" Bailey grabs her baseball and looks
Tristan: I watch with the rock ready in hand. The shadow in the red mist is huge, and it seems to be growling. It moves fast, running and disappearing before somehow reappearing behind us. "What is that," the kid shouts. I look around, trying to keep my eyes on the shadow but, somehow, it's like it knows it's being watched and is disappearing into the mist on purpose. "Wait for it," I say, holding out my hand. "Wait for what," Rebecca asks, her shaking body turning left and right as the growls come from all over. "Wait for it," I repeat. "Wait for it!" I hear the sound of squashing mud from the side and turn. I see the shadow emerges from the red mist. A large, grey wolf with bloody cuts and open wounds leaps out. The wolf shows off its sharp yellow teeth as it growls. I scream as I charge toward the infected wolf. I slam the rock against the side of the infected wolf's face, knocking it to the forest f
Marcus Fellow: As I run, I look down the sight on the top of my assault rifle. The second the infected wolves are in my sight, I squeeze the trigger and shoot it. The wolf whines as it falls to the side. "Get him to his feet," I yell, pointing at the man as I run past him. Two of my soldiers help the man to his feet while the rest of my squad follow after me. As the wolves charge and jump at the mother and her child, I wave my fingers, giving the order. "Engage! Engage! Engage!" My soldiers and I light up the sky with flashes of light. Our rifles scream louder than any thunderstorm. By the time we're done, the forest is a mess of dead infected wolves. However, despite how many dead dogs there are, I know we're still not safe. I keep an eye out as I approach the two. "Easy," the mother says as I walk up to them, pointing my rifle at them. "Easy." "Are you friendly," I ask. "Are you friendly? Answer the question!" "We're friendly," the kid replies, holding up both her hands. "We'
Tristan Harlow:"Get out of here," Marcus screams before swinging his hand. Looking right at me, I stop sneaking toward the soldiers and look closer at Marcus. He's holding up his hand, and I can see something small and silver hanging from his finger.Just as I realize the thing hanging from his finger is a pin, an explosive kicks me into the air and knocks me back. Screaming as I hit the ground, a loud ringing sound pierces my ears."Ahhh," I say, slamming my hands against my ears. "Fuck."Despite the ringing sound in my ears, the overwhelming headache, and the aching chest, I still push myself up."Marcus, what the...hell?"As I push myself up and look, I don't see Marcus anywhere. Instead, I see three dead soldiers lying on the ground near me."These are the three soldiers that surrounded Marcus," I think, "But where the hell is Marcus?"About to run to where I last saw him standing, I stop
Rebecca:"What the hell are you talking about," I ask. "Marcus, come on! Get over here.""How," Marcus asks. He lifts his camouflage shirt and shows me his bloody chest."Son of a bitch," I say, covering my mouth as I step back. Marcus's stab wound is worse than I expected. Even though it's wrapped, there is still blood flowing out of it. The area around the wound is black. Looking at Marcus, I finally notice him. He is barely standing straight. His body and face are drenched in sweat and he's as pale as a ghost.Biting his tongue as he pulls down his shirt, Marcus looks to the right."There," Marcus says, pointing at one of the bunker's walls. "That, over there, is the maintenance tunnel I mentioned earlier. 20 years ago, when the bunker was being built, the construction workers used it to move supplies and vehicles in and out of here. Afterward, the bunker was constructed and they sealed the entrance.""They sealed the ent
Marcus Fellow: "Get down," I yell, jumping over Rebecca and shielding us. A second later, gunfire destroys the wooden pallets, and wood chips are raining down on us. Staying on top of Rebecca, doing my best to protect her, I look behind when the wood chips stop raining. Pushing myself up, I look through the wooden pallets and see the soldier who was shooting at Rebecca dead on the floor. As I look at his dead body, I see his weapon, an assault rifle, lying beside him. "Rebecca," I shout, "There's an assault rifle! Grab it now!" Rebecca nods her head and hands me her double-barrel shotgun. "Cover me," Rebecca says. Running directly into the line of fire between the bunker people and the traitorous soldiers, I do my best to cover Rebecca. Runni
Rebecca: I scream as I crouch down and cover my head. "Fuuuccckk," I yell as the soldiers keep shooting at us. They keep Marcus and I pinned down, not giving us a chance to fire back. Among all the gunshots, I can still hear footsteps quickly approaching. "They're advancing," I think, crouching down even further when a piece of the wall comes off and almost hits me. Still hiding behind the wall, I stick out my hand and blind fire. I fire two shots and then pull back my hand. "I'm not even sure if I hit anyone but at the very least, I stop them a little." I look down at the handgun. "I can't waste shots. I only have half a clip left." Listening to the footsteps as they keep advancing, I look at Marcus who had his back slammed against the wall. He keeps trying to fire back but is always forced back into hiding. "Marcus," I yell, cupping my mouth. "Marcus!" Marcus looks at me and I point at the two of us before swinging my hand. Marcus stares at me for a few seconds before finall
Jacob: I scream as I pull back my head. My cry echoes throughout the bunker as I look down and see myself bleeding. "Ahhh," I yell. I slam my hands on the bullet wound and push down. I stop screaming and bite down on my lips as I try to endure the pain. While enduring the pain, I look up and see the barrel of a handgun pointed right at me. "Why were you trying to steal food," Jim yells. I try to answer him but when I open my mouth, all that comes out are screams. Jim shakes his head as he shoots in the leg. I scream even louder as blood pours out from my leg. "Why were you trying to steal food," Jim yells again. He aims his handgun at my head. I can't answer him. I want to answer Jim but I can't. It hurts too much. My body is on fire. Everything burns, and all I can do is shake uncontrollably. "Come on," Jim says, waving his gun in front of me. "Say something! Why were you trying to steal food?" I look around a
Marcus Fellow: Wiping the sweat from my forehead, I then shake my hand clean. From high up, I keep a close watch on the soldiers guarding the motor pool. Looking at the old commander's building, I smile and nod my head when the bunker's bell rings. "Midnight," I say. "Finally." Inhaling through my nose and exhaling through my mouth, I prepare myself and push myself up. Biting my lower lip as my waist burns, I fight through it and walk toward the others. "Hey," I say, lightly kicking Rebecca on her leg. "Hey!" "What," Rebecca says, her eyes snapping open. "It's time," I answer. "Wake up the kids." Rebecca rubs her eyes and cracks her neck before getting up. She walks over to where Nicholas and Bailey are and lightly shakes them awake. "Hey, kid," Rebecca says as she shakes Bailey. Not responding at first, Bailey slowly opens her eyes. She moans as she places some fingers on the bandage around her head. "
Marcus Fellow: Pushing Rebecca and Bailey into the empty apartment room as fast as I can, I turn around and slam the door shut. Grabbing a nearby plank, I place it underneath the doorknob. "Marcus," Rebecca says as soon as I turn around. "What the hell happened here? I mean, we weren't gone for that long! A few hours at most!" "Yeah, well," I say, putting my handgun in my back pocket. "A lot happened in those few hour--" As I walk toward the kitchen, a sharp pain kicks me to my knees. I cry out and slam my hands over my stomach as I drop down. "Marcus," Rebecca yells. She runs to me and helps me back onto my feet. As she helps me up, she must have noticed the bloody bandage around my stomach. "Okay seriously," she says, lifting my shirt up to see the bandage. "What the hell happened here?" "It's that damn soldier's fault," I answer. Taking in many deep breaths, I limp over to an old, rusty table and chair in th
Tristan: As the soldiers open fire on me, I keep running while keeping my head low. "Crap, crap, crap," I shout as I run for my life. Having to jump left and right as bullets hit the ground and throw dirt into my face, I reach the city and turn a corner. Crouching down as the soldiers keep shooting, I cover my head. "Ahhhh," I scream, squeezing my head in between my hands. As the gunfire dies down, I look around the corner and see the soldiers all reloading. They switch the empty magazine for another magazine and run toward me. "Crap," I shout again as I look around. In what looks like a small neighborhood with makeshift houses, I turn around and see myself against a small house, not even half my height, made from sheet metal and broken wooden posts. I look through a nearby window and see
Tristan: As I slowly push the manhole cover up, I look out and scan the surrounding area with my pistol. Thankfully, I don't see any more infected wolves. "It's clear," I say, looking down at Rebecca. Rebecca nods her head and I push the cover off entirely. Throwing it to the side, I climb out first before turning around to help Rebecca up. Wiping her sweaty forehead after climbing out of the damn hole in the ground, Rebecca looks around and sees a very familiar forest with red smoke everywhere. "I can't believe I'm going to say this," Rebecca starts, "But I've missed this place." "You know what? So have I." I take a few seconds to enjoy the peace and forget about the damn sound of howling and gr