Head Count (admitting no more)

[legofan94]

(Alright guys, its that time again... time for an rp! now since this is our first one, and we know each other well, lets get started!)

DAY ZERO: 6:55 A.M.

Cheno sat on the roof, looking out at the skyline in front of him that he had come to call home. Now It was as foreign to him as the face of mars, just like everything else had been for the past eight days. he knew what had gone wrong, hell he saw the effects first hand before anyone else! after the incidents in Fair-Field and New-burgh, and then the disaster at the Vermont C.D.C. two days later, C.E.D.A. set up shop in Atlanta. after some three quarantines, 42 unrelated infections, and a three day military siege, Atlanta was a ghost town, if ghosts could run up to you and rip your face off.

He returned to the m-35 in the center of the parking garage, he was angry all he could get out of the truck were a few 357. rounds and two M.R.Es, but he thanked the lord he had the transmitter. the thing was powerful enough to tap into the nest at the CNN center, so he was able to broadcast the whole city, hoping, praying that someone could hear him.

"If there Is anyone to hear this, please listen. My name is Chenowith, I am a survivor, and I think I'm immune. I'm held up in a parking deck down town, follow barnsole avenue north, there's a big sign for a chiropractor out front, you cant miss it, this is once again Nicholas Chenowith, awaiting response."

"he let go of the send button, setting the radio to loop, as the sun rose slowly over the city

[Malady]

It was that sound again. The sound that heralded the end of her former companions, whose corpses--at least, she hoped they were corpses now--surely littered the darkened complex, or perhaps the streets beyond. She wasn't really sure what happened, and couldn't assure herself of anything, not anymore, which really wasn't something she was used to.

Then again, she wasn't ready for this level of a disaster, and despite it being over two weeks since the virus was first seen in Pennsylvania and since then seen spreading, she certainly wasn't "used to" it.

The sound was broken momentarily by a creaking somewhere upstairs in the two-floor theatre. She nearly jumped out of her skin at the completely unexpected noise and her grip tightened apprehensively around the wooden baseball bat she'd gotten as a teenager when her parents took her to a baseball game. It served as some form of comfort now, at least; something from the past...it was just a few weeks ago when life was more or less the same as what it was when she got the bat, but now it felt like a whole other world.

"Didn't I fortify this building well enough?" she mumbled to herself in a barely audible whisper, almost as a calming mechanism. She was still alive, could still think, she wasn't one of them yet. Of course, this fortification consisted only of wooden boards across every fathomable opening she could find, and this was after something broke into the place before and destroyed her former companions. She never figured out what it was, she just remembered the boy getting jumpy and the old man scolding him. They were gone now and she was alone there now. Or so she hoped. She still had to check, though, and she knew it. It was that lack of attention that was ultimately the downfall of the group.

Biting softly at her lip and trying as hard as she could to be strong, she made her way through the dimly lit lobby to the stairs, crept up the steps as quietly as she could, and eventually found the source; one of the zombies were slumped down to the floor, obviously dying, but not fast enough.

She couldn't risk it. She raised the bat and swiftly smashed it into the skull of the creature. Something made a sickening crack, it groaned and the rest of its body fell flat. It was dead. She leaned in close to examine it, pushing it over onto its back with the bat. "How did you get in here, you pitiful soul?"

Her gaze shifted uneasily around the room for where it may have gotten in, and found a pile of bodies in the corner that had been moved in a way she didn't remember them being early. The thing must have crawled out from under it.

If she was not mistaken, the pile had formerly been killed by the old man, thus the fault was in no way her own--at least she could take some kind of comfort for now by telling herself that. Something wasn't her fault.

She sighed, her breath shaking slightly, as she tried to calm herself. There was no one else here to do it, and chances are, there was never going to be anyone here to soothe it. Ready to break at the next slightest interruption of the afore mentioned silence, she crawled back down the stairs, paying painfully close attention as to not fall down and perhaps break something, and took her former position in the lobby. As she passed another pile of bodies, only a few of them actually seeming to be Infected, it sunk in deeper and deeper. Now was time to be a bigger girl than she'd ever been, and outlast the thing humanity had dreaded for centuries; the apocalypse.

[legofan94]

DAY ZERO: 7:32 A.M.

"... of the infection has been proven to be difficult, Being as symptoms can be confused with significantly less threatening conditions. In short, If you or a person in your party has experienced any flu like symptoms, quarantine them immediately until you are able to have them examined by a certified medical officer. If no medical officer is available to you, your party must..."

Cheno realized he was no longer reading the book, but staring at the page. He shut the handbook and placed it on the painted handicapped symbol next to his lawn chair. the book only slightly quelling his distracted mind. The stress, exercise, and lack of medication was letting his A.D.H.D. get to him.

"God damn-it I would kill for my meds!" he shouted, somewhat angry at the turn of affairs that had turned his world upside down. Throwing him from the frying pan and into the sun. He realized soon, to his fear, that he could have attracted the infected by accident.

"oooohcrapohcrapohcrap!" said the little voice in his head. it took him a few moments to catch himself. "They cant get to me..." he mumbled aloud. He turned to face the entrance to the top floor, where a Winnebago had had a front end collision with a Mack dump truck."they cant get to me because I locked the door. Get a grip Cheno! you're the only one here!" At that moment a small rustling came from the other side of the wreck.

The color drained from his face as he uttered a small *Meep!*. The sound repeated again, and with all the courage he could muster slowly made his way to the Mack's door. He chose the tire iron, the rifle was too long and noisy, he did not want his position known to every zombie in the city. he grabbed the keys for the truck that he found in the glove box and opened up the drivers side. he put one hand on the handle and slowly counted. "one..." his grip tightened. "two..." his palms were sweaty as he squeezed the handle. "... THREE!" he yelled as the door opened. Unfortunately for cheno, his center of gravity was off and he fell flat on his face.

[Five Dog]

The boards finally felt secure. It'd been hours of quiet labour to secure the smashed store window in the moon's half light. When Will had first entered the market several days ago, he simply assumed it was fully sealed and protected. That had almost proved his downfall. It wasn't a total mistake in his view, however, because he did manage to get an exciting picture of an Infected woman clambering through the open window. Unfortunately, that beautiful shot had to be followed up quickly by the 9mm kind to the forehead.

Will sat snugly on an overturned crate of oranges, eyeing up the newly boarded window and admiring his own handiwork. His fond gaze then caught the freshly slain corpse, lying in a pool of warm scarlet in front of him. He tapped the body with the toe of his shoe and pointed contently at the secure window.

"Nice job, i'n it?" He chuckles, fixing his stare on the lifeless white, milky eyes. "I should'a been a damn carpenter, eh?" Will paused, in stark silence. "Oh yeah," He continued, as if the body had replied. "It was dead easy. A fuckin' doddle, even. You just gotta be real careful," He hesitated and glanced down at his ragged, bleeding fingers. "You just might nick yourself a few times in the process." His eyes met the corpse again. "It bloody hurts if you do, too."

Before Will could continue the conversation, his common sense kicked in. Slowly, it dawned on him that he had been conversing with a lifeless husk that he himself had killed.

"Well." He grunted, standing up off the crate. "I can see you've got a lot to do, so I'll leave you to it."

Sleepily and dazedly, he approached the barricaded openings. Small dirty beams of dusty-golden light was seeping through the cracks, lazily splashing the immediate area with a dim glow. Almost at peace, Will closed his eyes, and tried not to think. Tried not to remember his wife, or her death. Tried not to think of his deceased children. Tried not to think. Not to exist.

A sudden creak in the darkness behind him tugged him out of his depressed lull. He spun around, now firmly clutching his small onyx pistol. From what he could see in the thick blackness, there was nothing there. But he had to be sure. Instead of risking himself by heading into the daunting black, he quickly whipped out his trusty black camera. The camera snapped on its flash and flooded the entire room with a brief, white blaze. Will looked down and checked the image. Just an empty, abandoned store stared him back in the face. No one was there.

As if noticing it for the first time, Will examined the pistol he'd slugged out. It was never something he expected to have in his possession. A police-issue sidearm. He snorted, now slotting the gun into his camera satchel. Such horrible times call for such horrible weapons. He'd take the lens of his camera over the barrel of a gun any day. But it's not like he had that choice any more.

"Oh it'll be lovely!" He muttered, remembering his wife's words. "A holiday is just what we need, and I've never been to America!" Angrily, Will toppled a small produce cart with a bash from his shin. "Next time," he sighed, both angry and regretful. "Choose somewhere not crawlin' with Goddamned zombies."

Absently, Will sat down on the floor, crossed his legs, and reached into his satchel. A few seconds later, he gently pulled out a small rectangular photograph. Even in the horrible lighting offered by the boarded store, he could recognise that face anyway. Those glistening eyes. That sparkling hair. Kiera Daniels Leyland. His once beloved spouse.

He gazed benevolently into the still, baby-blue eyes. "I'll make it out of here," He whispered softly, his tone now calm and delicate. "I'll make it out for you, I promise." Will swept his sleeve across his eyes abrasively, rubbing the sorrow free from his eyes. A loose tear splashed the photograph. "You're the best photo I've ever taken.."

The photographer, once bold and strong, now lay crumpled on the floor of some grotty shop, in a lonely, Infected city. That very man once went by the idea that a picture was worth a thousand words. It was only now that he realised, not all were. Not the picture he now held in his cold, bloody fingers. This one was worth more words than in existence.

[legofan94]

Cheno, being the moron that he was, had just knocked himself unconscious. he awoke some hours later, he could tell by the shadows along the concrete floors being much longer than usual. After he regained his sight, he realized something was gnawing on his mullet. It took a second for the thought to register as "OHGODITSEATINGMYHEAD!!!" and he immediately sat up to stare into the eyes of a medium sized German Shepard.

Cheno smiled at the dog, which reminded him of his childhood pet, Filo. "Hey there little fella? you hungry?" The dog simply licked its nose in response. "Well here you go!" Cheno took a stick of jerky from his vest and handed it to the dog. It hesitated a little and sniffed the jerky before it took it. "Its okay, nothings wrong," cheno said with a smile, which coxed the dog to take the stick. "your a good dog aren't you? I wonder where you... hey wait a minuet... your Franks dog! Frank from the K-9 unit! Is Frank with you? Do you know where he is?" Cheno loosely knew Frank from a crackdown on meth three months ago, but as soon as he mentioned Franks name, the dog whimpered. "what? what's wrong?" Cheno replied, but then he herd the growling, it was on him before he knew it.

It was wearing a blue poncho, police issue. The dog just barked at the figure, while the figure was buisy trying to tear up cheno's shirt to get to his flesh, "HELP ME DAMN IT!" he screamed when he locked Eyes with the figure. It was frank, if you could excuse the bloody holes where his eyes should have been, Cheno knew that he was dead and waited for the end, only it did not come. The next thing he saw was a flash of fur as the dog jumped on Zombie-frank and tore his jugular out of his neck.

"I..Buh...You...Shit!" was the only reply that cheno could muster. the dog licked it's bloody nose in response. "A dog that saved my life... You're going to need a name aren't you? how about Rin-Tin? Do you like that name?" The dog panted and licked his face. "Haha, hey stop that! heh, okay, Rin-Tin it is.

Cheno gave up on waiting around mid day. He packed up his things and started hiking through the streets. After around twenty blocks, he ran into a jack-knived truck in the way. "Well crap Rin-Tin, what are we going to do?" Then he saw the flash of light through the boarded up windows of a corner store, he walked up to the window to hear the tail end of a conversation. "HEY! Anyone in there? Come on! I'm a survivor!"

[thegunshow]

John looked cautiously around. He heard a conversation, and then another man shouting. He took cover and shouted not too loudly, "I'm a survivor too. I'm going to come out now."

A man who looked like he'd seen a lot of better days slowly crouchwalked out behind the divider. It looked like he was carrying a bolt-action sniper rifle.

[legofan94]

Cheno was banging on the boarded up windows when the other person approached him. Rin Tin whimpered and tugged at his khakis, which caused him to turn around right as he said "I'm a survivor too. I'm going to come out now" he held a bolt action hunting rifle, he looked like he had been traveling for days. Cheno gave a chuckle and mumbled "Ain't this my lucky day..." to Rin Tin. He turned his attention back to the other survivor, "Hey buddy, c'mon help me, there's some one in here!" he then resumed banging on the wooden boards of the corner store. "Hey man there'r two of us out here! we're not thugs, we're not looters, just let us in, please!"

[thegunshow]

John walked up. "I know how to handle this."

He yelled through the door, "We're survivors. I'm trying to make my way to a safe zone and we need all the help we can get! Let us in! I've got a sport rifle, a pistol, and a knife! I'm immune!"

[legofan94]

the two continued banging on the windows for a while before cheno gave up "hey buddy," he said, sitting down on a fallen mailbox, "whats your name any way?"

[thegunshow]

"The name's John. Don't wear it out." John continued, "It has taken me five weeks, through a combo of walking, sleeping, running, sprinting, jogging, driving, and even at one point flying with a hang glider to get here from Kingston, Ontario to wherever-the-f*ck we are right now."

[legofan94]

"Ontario? as in, Canada: Ontario? Jesus Christ, things spread farther than I thought. Well John, The name is Chenowith, Friends call me Cheno." Cheno responded to his new friend, looking down at a conveniently placed cooler. before he could do anything Rin-Tin hoped up and sat down next to him.

"Aaaany way right now, you are In the middle of Atlanta's commercial district. That is Atlanta Georgia to you. oh I am sorry , but your about a week late on your rescue. "

Cheno shoed Rin-Tin off the cooler and opened it up, "ah here we go," he said pitching a small can over to john, "Soda?"

[thegunshow]

John looked at the can. "Thanks. Just joking here, but if I'm late then time better slow the f*ck down."

He opened it and took a good drink. "So Cheno, how'd you get here? And we're in Atlanta? Weird, I lost count. Everything is just another city."

(OoC: Plagiarizing Chuck Norris. I *roundhouse kick, death sound* Someone get to the nearest closet!)

[thecreaturenator16]

Where am I?, he wondered, coming to. He was sitting in a great deal of wreckage in very low light. Glancing around him, he could see a few cubicles and a computer monitor with a game of Solitaire displayed on its screen. The former player was lying dead on the floor, covered in office memos. With a start, he realized what had happened.

He had commandeered a plane from his local smalltown airport. He had set course for Washington D.C., hoping against hope that there would be a significant military presence there. After several hours of autopilot, he noticed, too late, that an airliner was heading straight for him. The distance was much too close to react in any way. As he passed the cockpit, he saw two human figures, shuffling around the cockpit. His right wing sheared into the massive jetliner's left engine. He started an immediate downward spiral, afterwhich he remembered nothing.

He got up and stretched. Several joints popped, and the relief seemed to radiate his whole body. He pried his hunting rifle from the broken plane and several boxes of ammo. The scope was broken in half. Annoyed, he pried the pieces off and threw them to the ground. His mental goal was to get out of this dark, abandoned building. Unfortunately, all exits were blocked off. Those exits were stairwells, as he realized he was not on the ground floor. Looking out a nearby window, he saw he was on the second floor. He made the decision to jump.

On the ground, thankful he hadn't broken any bones, he soon realized what the grime on the window had hidden: the street was infested with the Infected. None had noticed his presence yet. With incredible relief, he noticed a C.E.D.A.-erected saferoom across the street. He picked up a large piece of rubble and, careful as not to make even a grunt of exertion, lobbed the chunk of concrete over to the right of the street. The Infected snapped their heads toward the sound and took off at a sprint. One Infected remained. He took aim and fired. Its head snapped back from the force of the metal piece. It fell immediately with no reaction, leaving a splattering of viscera on the wall behind it. The Infected that had chased the rock had not noticed, thankfully. He ran across the street, stopping in front of the splattered wall. The bullethole was surrounded by splattered gore, as a chilling reminder that this was a real person before the Infection. Glancing back at the building he had come from, he recoiled in shock. The building was the C.E.D.A. headquarters. I think that we're on our own. He ran in to the saferoom and slammed the door behind him.

[legofan94]

after catching his lightly pitched can, john answered back to cheno. Rin-tin proceded to lick some half melted ice out of the cooler as cheno petted him. John made a quick joke about being a badass, which brought up a laugh from cheno. Rin-tin tugged at his leg again, so he opened one of his vest pocket, opening a packet of peanuts to give to the dog. John asked cheno how he arived in the city.

"Well good question john..." cheno responded, "I've lived in the city most of my life. moved out here for collage, I got a job with the crime lab, got trapped here when the shit got real. last time I did a head count over the military channel was two days ago. we had about a dozen soldiers, some emt's, and 6 civilians still kicking. bound to be less now..."

He stood up and walked back to the heavily boarded door. cheno was getting angry at the man's silence. "COME ON DUDE! I know you are in there, and god help me if I don't throw something big into your window! Now cut the crap and let us in!"