Day After the 4Th**Up Date**

[USMCguysak47]

Hi everyone first thank you for reading and any comments that you might you leave. I have taken the old story and re-written it but it still needs some work so I thought I would post what I've done and see how everyone likes it now. Please leave your feed back and tell me good or bad, it will only help me grow. Thanks everyone.

Harrisonburg, Virginia
July 4th Time 2:00 p.m.

The Fourth of July is a fun time for the old and the young, this is a time to run, laugh and play. The summers heat beating down on you, the smell of open flames cooking the hotdog and hamburgers. The sounds of splashing and laughter coming from people swimming in the cool water. The markets full of people buying their last minute food and fireworks for the nights events.

The Fourth of July can be a fun filed day or one spent alone wondering where time had passed you by, and how it had done it so fast. The years of thinking your youth would last, only to feel the pain of some battle in a far off land.

He sat there looking at the bottle of Jim Beam, and the old photos hanging on the wall of his family. The heart tattoo on his arm with the initials J & T on it with a dagger running through the heart, dripping blood, U.S.M.C. First Force Recon wrote on the handle and blade.

“Why in the hell did I get our initials? That’s the dumbest thing I had ever done besides marrying her, She knew when she married me she married the Corps.” he thought to himself while pouring another drink. “This should help ease the pain. If they don’t want to spend time with me that’s fine, I get it.” He said out loud in anger.

The glass was set back on the coffee table as he picked up the bottle and moved to the sliding glass door. The sounds of people having fun field the air. “That should be me and my family.” He said opening the door and stepping outside into the hot summer sun. “Fuck its hotter out here then a whore in church.” He thought to himself walking towards the lawn chair that sat under a shade tree.

He opened up his cell phone looking at the blinking message sign. He had listened to the message five times already. The words in that one message hurt worse then any wound he had suffered in combat.

The sun seemed to be hotter today then it had been in the last few days. The clouds where starting to roll in, sure signs of a big thunder storm coming. The retired ole Marine Corps Master Sergeant could feel the warmth of the liquor and the sun taking over as he laid there.

The memories where haunting him, his family and of friends lost in battle “Why couldn’t my girls understand, I didn’t want to leave them all those years, I had to. The wife knew, she never once let the kids know I had to go. They hated me for doing my duty, to keep them safe. I hope someday they know I did it to protect them and everyone in our great country.” He thought to himself as he chugged the burning liquid down his throat.

“Sempi Fi mother fucker.” Yelling out loud as he drained the bottle empty. The TV was still on inside the house and he could hear news reporter giving the weather.

“This is TV3 news with a weather forecast update. The weather map is starting to show some increased winds and clouds moving in. This should bring a nice rain into the Valley and help cool things down and make it a nice evening for fireworks.”

The phone inside started to ring, drowning out the sounds of the TV news. The liquor bottle fell to the side as he stumbled to get up and run for the phone. The answering machine picked up as he made it to the open doorway.

“John if you’re there can you pick up please, okay, well here it goes, the girls want to stay here this weekend. I know it’s your weekend but we have friends and family coming over to swim in the new pool that Bob just put in. If you want to later give the girls a call.” The machine clicked off as he made it to the land line phone.

“Tammy, I’m here, Tammy? Damn her, she knows it’s my weekend with the girls.” He said slamming the phone down. “I gave them today to be with their friends and their new family. I want my girls to get to know me. I left the Corps behind to be with them, to be a real father.” He thought to himself as he walked towards his bedroom.

The pictures on his dresser stared at him, the guilt hitting him hard for not being there all those years. The girls now nine and twelve, the years missed, Christmas and birthdays. The wife that he hated but still loved, her voice in his head telling him it’s over, she moved on with a nice man, a family man. “It wasn’t his family to be a man for.” He thought to himself as he pulled his t-shirt off walking towards the bathroom.

The bathroom showed that he was a bachelor; the décor was that of a man who lived on his own. The shower was turned on just enough to make the water lukewarm. He turned looking into the mirror, the heart tattoo on one arm and First Force Recon on the other; they both stood out bright in his glass reflection.

The bullet hole in his left shoulder, the one he called “My get out of jail free card” didn’t hurt as much as the heart tattoo did. He walked towards the bathroom door as he unbuttoned his pants, stopping as he took them off and his boxers, throwing them out into the bedroom.

He passed the mirror heading to get in the shower; it was as if the mirror was talking to him, telling him he was worthless. “You should have died over there. You’re a worthless piece of shit.” The voices kept echoing in his head, not knowing if it was the liquor talking to him or how he really felt about himself.

The water rushed down over his skin, cooling him down and helping him to think, trying to get his thoughts clear and in order. He knew what he had to do, and he was going to do it till there was no breath left in him. He ducked his head under the water “They got to know how much I love them. I’ll prove it to them, I promise you girls, I will.” He said as the tears mixed with the water from the shower.

[USMCguysak47]

Harrisonburg, Virginia
July 4th 3:45 p.m.

The cookout was in full swing as everyone gathered to get as many hotdogs and hamburgers they could stuff into their mouths. Bob the head cook was telling everyone to take as much as they wanted, he had more. He looked over at his wife, girls and friends waving at them. He mouthed the words to his wife “I love you” as she did the same back to him.

The house phone range as he flipped the burgers and turned the hotdogs over. The caller I.D. showed that is was John M. Walker; he just rolled his eyes as he answered the phone in a fake nice guy tone.

“Hey John, happy Forth of July, how are you doing today?” he said putting the Bar B. Q. tongs down.

“I would like to speak with my girls, Bob.” He said in a hard tone.

“Let me look and see if they can get out of the pool, they might even be eating, John.” He said with a nod to his wife letting her know it was her ex-husband.

“Look Bob. I just want to talk to my girls and wish them a Happy Fourth of July. Don’t, make me come over there and put your dick in the dirt, you dumb fuck.” He said as the anger built up in him.

“Now John Martin Walker, you do not talk to my husband that way.” She said knowing using his full name would piss him off even more and let him know he crossed the line.

“Tammy, I just want to wish them a Happy Fourth and tell them that I love them.” He said in a slightly nicer tone.

“John, they just jumped back in the pool with their friends. I will have them call you before Bob puts off fire works tonight.” She said waving at the girls as Bob stood there looking at her.

“Tammy, I will let you win this one, it’s always a game with you and Bob. I left the Marines to be with the girls, to be a father, to be a part of their life.” He said as the phone went dead.


“That bitch, I hope that son of a bitch Bob blows his fucking hand off,” he said as he slammed the old phone down on the counter.

The anger was building in him as he walked into the living room, sitting down on the recliner he flipped through the stations trying to find something to help calm him down. He felt his stomach gnawing at him, letting him know he had not eaten anything all day.

The sound of the old refrigerator was humming as it kept everything cool. He opened it up and looked at what he would fix. He had three steaks in a special marinade that the girls loved; he was going to fix that for them tonight before they canceled. There was an old pizza box that he pulled out and opened up.

“I guess it’s just me, you, Jim Beam and maybe his best friend Jack Daniels tonight.” He said to the pizza as he took it out and warmed it up in the microwave.

The microwave dinged as the pizza was done; he poured more of the liquor into the glass in front of him. The pizza helped calm the effects of the drinks; he could tell he was getting a buzz from it.

He walked back into the living room the pizza in one hand and the bottle of liquor in other. The night was going to be a long one and he wanted to pace himself but knew it didn’t matter. He was alone, no one wanted to be with him other then his two best friends, J.B. and J.D. along with the memories of friends passed.

“Damn, this is starting to kick my ass.” He said to himself as he downed the last of the liquor and leaned back in his recliner.

The day passed quickly turning into night. The heat outside only turned into a hot muggy night. The cookouts would all be dying down through the city as everyone got ready for the fireworks. The kids were playing with sparklers, running around laughing and chasing each other.

The booms could be heard all over the city as they lit up the night sky. The yelling of pleasure with each new firework that exploded fell over everyone gathered. The kids would scream out with the loud noise as it scared them to only laugh and say how cool that one was, they were trying to show they had no fear to their fellow peers.

The sounds of the fireworks woke him as he was in a half dazed stupor, looking out the window at the night sky. He picked himself up off the recliner and stumbled back down the hallway heading towards his bedroom, stopping to check the answer machine “No new calls” it said as he kept walking.

The door to the bedroom flew open as he kicked it, making his way over to the bed. He pulled the covers back as he fell into bed. The liquor was taking over as he fell into a deep sleep. The bottle laid beside him as his hand slipped off of it.

The Fourth of July events moved on into late night, the people flocked from one street to the next watching all the fireworks. The kids played and laughed as the adults cleaned up from the mess of the day’s cookout. The fog from all the fireworks moved over the city, street by street.

Harrisonburg, Virginia
July 5th 7:00 a.m.

He awoke at seven a.m. with a throbbing headache, cotton mouth and a foggy memory of the night before. The sounds of gun fire and screams outside his window made him flinch and flashback to his time in some far off war zone.

He snapped his head towards the window thinking he was still half dreaming when another shot rang out with a scream for help. The gunfire was starting to pick up as he jumped up out of bed, knocking the bottle of Jim Beam off the side of the bed as he ran to the window.

The streets were filed with blood, dead bodies and burned out cars. The emergency sirens were blaring off in the distance as he watched from his bedroom window with shock and horror. The next door neighbor took aim at a man, the crack of the gun as the bullet hit its target. The man kept running for his neighbor, jumping on him as they rolled around on the ground. The enraged man bent in and took a bite of his victim’s neck, ripping flesh away as the blood few.

“What the fuck is going on? This must be some kind of terrorist attack.” he said to himself staring dumbfounded as the shock washed over him.

The streets were filling with the rage infested people of the city. The sounds grew loud of them screaming as they looked for their next victim. He moved to his nightstand pulling out a 1911 handgun, sliding the slide back and letting it fly home as he chambered a round into it.

He started to move out of his bedroom when his cell phone in the wrinkled up jeans started to ring. He fumbled with his pockets trying to find it as he slid the handgun into his jeans waistband.

“Hello!” he yelled into the phone.

“John, it’s me, we need your help, oh dear Lord no.” She screamed as the phone went dead.

“Tammy, you there, Tammy………..” he said slamming the phone shut as he moved out of the bedroom.

The sounds on the street were filled with moans and screams. He kept moving down the hall past the kitchen, heading for the basement. The old house had a small basement that he kept filled with old boxes from the days when his family owned the house. He moved back into it after they had passed away.

The old steps to the basement creaked as he moved down them fast. The lights flickered a few times as they got hot enough to burn and stay on. The gun safe sat off in one corner along with many other projects he had started over the years.

He grabbed an old Military issued backpack as he started jamming some MRE’s, power bars, and a map of Harrisonburg City. He grabbed the canteens and headed back up the stares to fill them up at the kitchen sink.

He took another look outside as he passed the window leading into the kitchen. The road was filled with people walking slowly, some even running as they foamed at the mouth. The blood was running down from their eye sockets.

“What in the fuck is this some kind of biological Chemical attack?” he said loud enough for only him to hear as he got to the kitchen sink.

The water was cool as it ran over the canteens, he was staring out the window as the water ran, and he was in disbelief hoping this was just some kind of dream, nightmare. The front porch started to creak as he finished with the canteens.

He started to rush back down stares to get the guns out of the safe. The backpack sat at the edge of the hallway. The sounds on the porch grew louder, the door caved in as he made it to entrench of the basement door.

He was caught off guard, staring at one of the foaming mouthed beast in front of him. He pulled the gun from his jeans waistband, pointing it at them he shouted.

“Stop right there, I will shot your ass.” He said as the thing in front of him moved his head side to side.

The entrance was now starting to get full as three more none living humans moved in behind one another. They moved inside the house fast as a shot range out inside the close quarters. The first bullet stuck the man in his chest, stumbling back as he fell down.

The other two mean screamed a blood curling scream that was nothing like a human. They moved fast towards their next would be victim, taking aim he shot them in the head as the dropped before him.

The one lying on the floor moved as he sat up, the look in his eyes were of rage. He jumped to his feet fast, taking the man holding the gun by shock.

“You, you should be dead. What the fuck are you?” he said as he took aim for the head, squeezing the trigger.

The creature fell were he stood, the screams outside drew closer as he ran to the front doorway and looked out over the yard. The neighbor’s yards and streets were filled with these no longer human creatures. They were now the walking dead.

He turned and ran for the basement to get back to the gun safe, taking two steps at a time. The gun safe was off in a dark corner, the basement lighting didn’t help in this coroner. This was a perfect hiding spot for the safe.

Taking out a flashlight he turned it on, the light beam lit up the combination lock as he fumbled to get it open. He had to try and calm himself down. This wasn’t his first time in stress or a combat situation. The locked popped, revealing the guns he had stored inside.

The floors up stares, creaked as he pulled out an AK-47, slamming a magazine in he chambered a round, looking over his shoulder as he reached in for more guns. He felt the AR-15 touch the tip of his hand, pulling it out he laid it down.

The noise up stares grew louder as he found the old twelve gage shotgun. He looked around him, trying to find a bag to put the extra ammo and magazines in. The house grew silent, an eerie silence that was deafening.

The cell phone range in his pocket, he jumped as he pointed the AK-47 at the stare way. He stood up fumbling to get his hand into his pocket, grabbing the phone. He took a deep breath to calm himself down as he answered.

“Tammy, is that you?” he said out of breath.

“John, were are you? Bob, no Bob, stop that, girls.” The screams on the other end filled the phone as the line went dead again.

He slung the AR-15 over his shoulder along with the old shotgun and headed for the steps. The bag full of ammo and magazines was heavy as he tried to carry it with the AK-47 pointed out in front of him.

He stopped at the stares looking up into the house, hopping the stares would be clear. The silence was broken as a loud thud came from some were in the house. He took a breath in and ran a mental check. He scanned the house in his mind, making sure he knew were every blind spot could be. He made another mental check making sure he had everything from the gun safe he would need.

“It’s now or nothing Marine.” He said in a low voice to himself as he took the first step.

The steps creaked loud with each step under the heavy weight of his load. The basement door was still open as he stepped through. He dropped the bag, scanning in front of him and to his side.

The AK-47 swept in front of him as he looked for targets. The house looked to be clear, grabbing the bag he headed for the front doorway. The day’s heat was just starting to make its presents to him as he stepped out on the front porch.

He turned the coroner as a hand reached out for him; stepping back he turned and fired hitting the slow moving woman. The bullet passed through her chest as she stumbled back just a little and started walking with arms stretched out towards him.

She moaned out loud making a noise that was no longer human; he looked at her slow moving body. The blood ran from her eyes, her mouth covered in bloody foam. The sounds grew louder behind and around him as he fired a shot from the AK-47 to her head. She fell back as brain and blood covered the outside walls of the house.

He turned running as he jumped off the porch making his way to his Dodge Ram truck. The infected in the streets screamed as they made a run for him. He opened the driver’s side door, throwing the guns, ammo and magazines inside.

He squeezed the trigger on the rifle trying to beat the infected back; they were coming in waves now. He started to jump in the truck when he noticed he forgot his backpack full of food and water in the house.

“Fuck, how in the hell can you forget that, jarhead.” He screamed out as he ran back towards the house.

He climbed the front steps of the house fast making his way back inside. The backpack sat on the floor, right where he had dropped it. He stared to bend over and pick it up as one of the infected stepped out in front of him.

He was lifted off his feet; the rifle fell to the floor as the beast screamed holding him in mid air. He grabbed at the decaying hand, trying to get his grip to loosen on his throat. He could fill the grip getting tighter; he reached for his pocket knife. The blade flew open as his thumb pushed, swinging it up and over the head of his attacker, slamming it down fast and hard into the skull.

The grip let go as he fell to the ground, taking in a deep breath as the air burned his throat. The man lye in front of him twitching, blood squirting out of his head. He got to his knees, pulled out the 1911 and shot him once in the head. The skull erupted as brain and blood went everywhere.

He reached out grabbing the knife, pulling it from the dead mans head. He put the 1911 back into his waistband, grabbing the backpack fast he slung it up and over his shoulders. He checked the chamber of the AK-47 making sure it had a live round in it as he headed back to his truck.

The yard was full of the infected. “Were the fuck did all these bastards come from” he thought to himself as he made a mad dash for his truck. He had just jumped off the front porch when the lady next door yelled for him.

“John, help me please! My husband is trying to……………” she was cut down by the blood lust infected people waiting for her.

They were chewing on her as she screamed for help. He just looked at her as he ran to the trucks drivers’ side door. He pulled the rifle up and fired once into the crowed chewing on her. He saw the round as it impacted her head, the front door of her house opened up with her husband running out, foaming at the mouth screaming. He took a carful aim and fired, drooping Mr. Roberts on the front steps.

He jumped into the truck, turning the key the Dodge came to life. He revved the engine up as he put it in drive. He slammed the gas peddle down and made a hard right out of the driveway. The radio, blaring out a song “Highway to Hell” he just kind of chuckled as it was a befitting song for the day.

He was scanning the road looking for any help he could find as his mind drifted back to his neighbors. He liked the Roberts, they always wrote him when he was on deployment and always had nice things to say. The every other day mail calls got to the point he looked forward to their letters more then he did his ex-wife.

He cleared the memory from his head; this was no time to think of that right now, it’s time to keep your thoughts on the mission at hand. The mission was to save his family; that even meant his ex-wife.

[USMCguysak47]

Harrisonburg, Virginia
July 5th 8:15 a.m.

The streets were filling with the infected as he sped by, not stopping or looking at any of the intersections. He hit the trucks radio scan button, trying to find any news that would help. The stations were filled with static, the white noise drowning out the screams from outside the truck.


He hit the scan button again on the radio trying to find any news stations still broadcasting, the station locked onto a news channel, they were talking about a foggy mist, that filled the sky after the fireworks “The foggy mist started to fill over the crowed of onlookers last night at some of the cities events. This does make me wonder if the events of the night have anything to do with what is happening in the city right now.” The reporters were saying as they kept talking.

He kept listening to the station as he drove on, they were just now getting in some reports from other countries, and those reports seemed to be of the same thing that he was witnessing with is own eyes. They kept talking about the fog a green looking fog settling over the crowds of onlookers. “That has to be the bio weapon, that has to be what in the hell is going on.” He thought to himself.

The reporters were talking back and forth about the night’s events and what was happing in the streets, they were trying to take live calls but they only ended up being full of screams of horror. They were talking with calm voices when the one reporter started yelling for security with the sound of crashing glass in the background.

He could now hear loud screaming coming over the radio as the reporters were being ripped apart. He could hear them yelling “oh God please help us.” They said as the sound of ripping flesh and the splatter of blood was now being broadcasted out over the radio. He heard a loud high pitch noise on the radio station with the screams in the background.

The security guards were yelling to stop or they would shoot, the screams only grew louder, as gunfire erupted over the radio. The knocking and banging kept going as a voice spoke on the station.

“If you can hear me, please help, I beg of you to help me. They are all dead; they were killed by the walkers. You can kill them; but they only rise up and walk again. Please help, I don’t know if this is even being broadcasted anymore, I’m not the radio stations broadcaster, I’m just the security guard. Chuck, what, what the fuck are you doing, please god no, don’t do this……..”

The loud screams filled the trucks cab from the radio as it went dead, nothing but static. He kept scanning for a new channel trying to find any info, but there was nothing but static, once in awhile a station would come on with some screaming for “Help” then the station would fall dead with loud static noise.

He could hear sirens off in the distance with gunfire as he kept hitting the scan button on the radio; there was no sign of life now on the radio waves. He turned the radio off, beating his hands against the steering wheel.

“Dammit all to hell!” he yelled out in the confined area of the truck.


He leaned over and picked up the microphone for the CB radio, trying to reach out to anyone that might be on the citizen band radio, the only replies were of white noise. He knew then he was on his own. The mission in front of him was to stay alive and save his family, god help anyone that tries to stop him of his objective. He would kill anything and everyone that would try to get in his way.

He was driving down the road making a right turn, scanning the area for anyone to be alive that might be able to help. The truck shifted gears as a few of the walkers stepped out in front of him, it happened so fast he didn’t have time to react, he just floored the truck and kept moving, feeling the bones crunching under the weight of the truck.

He looked behind him, seeing them all lying there in a pool of their own blood when a thud hit the front end of his truck, turning to look out the windshield; he was face to face with one of them.

The walker was hanging onto the hood of the truck, clawing his way up, facing him as he drew his hand back up in the air, ramming it down and through the hood. The walker screamed as he held on, he looked him straight in the eye as he lifted his other hand up to try and ram it through the windshield.

He hit the breaks on the truck, skidding to a halt; the walker flew off the hood of the Dodge leaving behind his hand, still stuck in the hood of the truck. The walker started to get to his feet, moving his head around as the bones crunched back together. He looked at the truck, full of rage as he took off in a run.

The driver of the truck floored it as the tires howled against the pavement, the walker still moving towards him. He braced himself for the impact, just as the walker leaped onto the hood. He was screaming, clawing his way back up to the windshield. The bloody stump was being driven down through the hood as he held on.

The truck was swerving all over the road; he kept trying to throw him off as he moved closer to the windshield. He drew back the bloody stump and drove it through the window. The glass was thrown all over the inside of the trucks cab.

“Come on, you blood thirsty bastard! I have something for your ass, right here.” He said raising the AK-47 to the windshield pulling trigger. The clatter of the rifle was deafening inside the truck.

The bullet ripped through the walker’s chest, he kept hanging on screaming louder as they went down the road. The driver was turning the steering wheel from side to side trying to throw and shoot him off the truck.

The walker screamed louder as he drew his head back, slamming it into the windshield, the AK-47 jerked in his hand as he squeezed the trigger. The walker moved back just a little on the hood as he lined up his next shot.

“Sempi Fi mother fucker!” he yelled as the bullet tore through the walkers head, throwing brain and skull fragments all over the place.

He watched the walker roll over and off the truck, looking in the rearview mirror he saw him bounce on the hard pavement. He turned back to face the road in front of him, looking through the shattered windshield.

The truck was coming up on a turn at the end of the street, sliding around it breaking the tires loose on the hot pavement. The bed of the truck clipped a few of the walkers that ran out into the street. He slammed on the breaks, looking back to see if they were all dead, putting it in reverse he ran over them just to make sure.

“Go straight back to hell, you fucking blood hungry bastards.” He said with a satisfying grin on his face.

He put the truck back in drive, hitting the peddle it lurched forward, he was now reaching speeds of a hundred miles an hour on the straightaway. He could see off in the distance blue flashing lights and hear the sirens. He let out a breath “Please let that be a good sign; please lord let them be alive.” He thought to himself as he moved towards the Police cars blocking the middle of the street.

He pulled up to the Police cars, seeing a few of them fighting with a hoard of the infected. The cops were being over run by them now. The Cops were yelling into their radios for backup as they kept firing into the crowed.

He skidded to a stop as the Cops yelled at “get the hell out of here, we can’t hold them off.” as one of the walkers jumped on the officers back. He put the gun to the walkers head and pulled the trigger, he was out of bullets.

The walker pulled the cops head back, opening his mouth as he bit into his neck. The blood flew out and over the Police car as the flesh was ripped apart. He couldn’t move, he was stunned and in shock as he sat in the truck watching everything unfold in front of him.

The blood thirsty walkers swarmed the remaining cops, biting and ripping flesh from their bone. The crowed turned looking at him sitting inside the truck “Oh shit” he yelled out as the truck was put in gear, smashing down on the gas peddle

He took off looking all around him for another way to go, the streets behind him filled with the walking dead and the ones in front of him had the other Police cars blocking the entrench. The best way for him to go now was up and over the curb, straight into the walkers on the sidewalk.

“I’m going to send all you fuckers straight to Hell!” he yelled out as he went up on the curb.

The walkers slammed into the front of the truck, feeling their bones crunch underneath as he kept driving. The sidewalk was littered with blood, bone and flesh from the dead. The odometer on the truck read sixty miles an hour. The truck felt like it was on a back country road running with big potholes as he ran over the walking dead.

He kept his head forward with one eye darting up to the rearview mirror, making sure the dead staid down. He made it far enough past the blockade and jerked the steering wheel to the right and back onto the pavement.

He grabbed the CB radio and turned it to the police band, as he yelled into the microphone “mayday, mayday officers down, I say again officers down.” He said with nothing but static answering him back.

He looked over at his weapons, knowing he needed to change out the magazine in the AK-47 and his 1911, with one hand on the steering wheel he grabbed the rifle and the bag full of ammo and magazines. He thumbed the magazine release, pulling the magazine down, tossing it into the bag. He slammed a new magazine in and pulled the bolt back on the rifle. The bolt flew home with a loud click, as he put the chamber on safe.

The 1911, was one of the guns he owned the longest, he knew it inside and out. He pushed the magazine release button in and let the magazine drop free; reaching into the bag to grab a fresh one, he turned the gun upside down as he put the magazine in. He took his other hand off the steering wheel, pulled the slide back on the handgun and let it fly home, chambering a round.

[Raven927]

I like this one, keep up the good work.

[USMCguysak47]

I like this one, keep up the good work.

Thank you I will have more later on. I know it still needs a lot of editing but a lot of twist and turns in the story. Stay tunned.

[Hammer31]

Great start. Please MOAR!

[MrNobody]

MMMMMOOOOOOAAAAARRRRR please !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[USMCguysak47]

Hey everyone thank you for the votes and feedback. I will have more coming soon. I have been kept busy this week and this next week doesn't look to be any better.

I will have MOAR!!!!! Soon and just wait the ZEDs will be in uniform.........That's just a hint!!!

[Bearcat]

It doesn't suck but it could use some editing. For instance, the emotional character development sounds cheesy and rushed along with some of the lines. Also you kept spelling corner as "coroner". Or when you referred to the main character as "the driver of the truck".

[USMCguysak47]

It doesn't suck but it could use some editing. For instance, the emotional character development sounds cheesy and rushed along with some of the lines. Also you kept spelling corner as "coroner". Or when you referred to the main character as "the driver of the truck".

Thank you and I know I do need have it edit way before I ever print it. I like having more eyes on it and I need to look back over that and check every where I put "coroner" and change.

Tell me how I should word it for the main character when he is driving the truck?

That was a part of the story I had a little trouble with and didn't care for the wording of it at the time of writing. I'm just sitting down writing and not editing and I'm working with no outline. I like to write like that and see where it goes.

Thanks and keep the info coming and to everyone keep the info coming.

[Bearcat]

Well this is just my opinion which are like assholes, everybody has one and their full of the same thing, so take mine for what it's worth. What I mean about "the driver" is that we all know who the driver is. It's the main character, we know he's in the truck and why. Just call him by his name. When you refer to him as "the driver" it removes or distances the audience from the character emotionally. Again just my thoughts.

[USMCguysak47]

Well this is just my opinion which are like assholes, everybody has one and their full of the same thing, so take mine for what it's worth. What I mean about "the driver" is that we all know who the driver is. It's the main character, we know he's in the truck and why. Just call him by his name. When you refer to him as "the driver" it removes or distances the audience from the character emotionally. Again just my thoughts.

Thank you I like that and thank you for the input I will re-read it and see how it feels. Thank you Bearcat, I will take all the help I can get and ideas to help make me a better writer. Thanks.

[Raven927]

Don't die on me thread!

[USMCguysak47]

Harrisonburg, Virginia
July 5th 8:45 a.m.

He was driving down the street scanning the areas to the side of him and in front of him; it reminded him of a bad day in Iraq more so then the city he grew up in as a kid. The smell of burning flesh filled the air; streets were lined with bodies, burning cars and the dead feeding on what remained of the human race. “I would take a bad day in Iraq over this shit.” He thought to himself as he drove on.

His eyes were fogged over as he was lost in thought, thinking back to a day in battle, friends lost, yells coming out over the gunfire for help mixed with the cries for their mother. The main intersection in the city was coming up on him fast, still lost in thought as the dead ran out into the road, the motor moaned out as he gave it more gas.

A few of the rage infested ones stood in the middle of the road; he looked at them and pointed the truck towards them gaining speed. The blood running down from their eyes with bloody foam spraying out as they screamed and pointed towards the truck. The front of the truck hit them with a loud thud; they flew underneath. The loud popping sounds of their bones crunching as he kept on driving.

He looked up into his rearview mirror and then turned to look over his shoulder. The infected filled the street with body parts lying everywhere. The light at the intersection went from green to red in a matter of seconds, catching a glimpse of a white Chevy Blazer, hitting the side of the Dodge truck, flipping it onto its side. The Blazer drove the truck in front of it for a hundred feet down the road before they came to a rest.

The road was now littered with glass from the vehicles, the motors clambered as they shut down, smoke bellowed from the engine, looking up out of the passenger side door he began to blackout. The world went dark as his head hit the side of the mangled driver’s side door.

Harrisonburg, Virginia
Time 9:00 a.m.

The light was beating down into the cab of the truck; his ears were filled with a buzzing sound, head throbbing as he moved gently, his eyes were a little blurry, a good sign of a concussion. He could feel something warm running down the side of his head, moving his hand to feel what it was. He held his hand out and saw the bright red blood, trying to get his eyes to focus on things around him.

The screams of a woman woke him out of the fog; he jumped looking around; the AK-47 lay at his feet. The street was filled with sounds of gunfire off in the distance; sounds of the infected running around, howling a blood curling noise. They were everywhere.

The rifle was just out of reach, he was moving around looking to get out of the truck, a hand reached in from behind him, grabbing his head, he turned fast in the small confines of the truck, looking eye to with one of the infected. The hands were ripping at him; he jerked the 1911 out of his waistband, pointed and squeezed the trigger.

The sound of the shot rang out, the bullet ripped through, blowing its brains out the back of its head. The truck started to shake as more of them were trying to get at him, the woman screamed, sounds of the dead started to drown her out.

“Please, god, please help me. I don’t want to die.” She said as the blood thirsty creatures swarmed over the Blazer.

He pointed out the back window, taking shots as the targets presented themselves. He kept firing until the gun went empty, bending down fast he grabbed the rifle, heading out the back window of the truck. The popping sounds of the AK-47 mixed with the screams of the infected.

“Come and get me you bastards, I will kill every last one of you fuckers!” he screamed as he kept firing.

He leaned against the truck, still shaken from the wreck. The rifle went dry as one of the infected reached out and grabbed him. He noticed that the dead seemed to be very strong, now locked in a death grip, fighting with him and trying to reach inside to get a new magazine.

The ammo bag was just out of reach, the mouth opened of the infected man, pushing him back against the truck, pinning him to it. He reached for his auto folder knife, flicking it open as he drove it up and through its throat, cutting the spinal cord as he fell.

He spit blood, hitting the dead man in the face. “Fuck you bitch!” he said as he put the knife away, reaching into the truck, grabbing the ammo bag and the Military backpack.

The rifle was loaded with a new magazine along with the 1911, he started around the truck to try and help the woman inside the Blazer. The Blazer, crawling with the dead as the woman inside screamed for help.

He took aim, picking his shots carefully, they didn’t seem to notice him, the live bait was inside and they could feel the meal with in their grips. The rifle clattering as he walked towards the vehicle. The dead were falling one by one; they turned and looked at him just as a bullet ripped through their head.

He could see one hanging out of the driver’s side window, running over the woman yelled out in horror. He took aim as he shot the infected in the back of the head, it laid there not moving, and grabbing it by the ankles he pulled it out and looked at the woman with his gun pointed right at her head.

“Please don’t shoot! I’m not one of them.” She said holding her hands up in the air.

“Were you bitten?” he screamed at her.

She shook her head, no as he opened the door. She unbuckled the seat belt and limped out of the wrecked Blazer. She leaned against the mangled metal trying to clear her head and gather her thoughts.


“Thank you.” She said looking at him with a half smile on her face as a few tears started to run down her cheek.

He kept looking at her, trying to see if she showed any of the sings that he had noticed in the infected. She had no blood running out of her eyes; her blond hair flowed in the wind, as he put the gun into his waistband.

“I’m Sara, Sara Preston.” She said holding her hand out.

“I’m John, John Walker, you sure you’re okay.” He said shaking her hand

He walked back over to the packs, grabbing them as he looked back over his shoulder at her. The dead were lying all around, blood running out of their heads. They could hear them off in the distance, screaming as their feet hit the pavement.

“Look Sara, we need to move out. If you cant run or you slow me down. I wont hesitate to leave your ass behind.” He said in harsh tone that let her know he meant it.

“I can do that and I won’t slow you down, I promise you.” She said as they took off running for an old station wagon that sat along side the road.

His head still throbbing as they ran, he felt like throwing up. He looked over his shoulder and could see her right in step with him; the infected were getting closer as they made it to the station wagon.

He looked inside and saw no keys, the doors were locked. They took a look around them trying to find the best escape route.

“I think I can hotwire the car, it’s been a long time sense I’ve done it. The car should be simple it’s from the late seventies; shouldn’t be a problem.” He said looking at her.

He started to draw the rifle back to break the window with the stock of the gun. She reached, grabbing his arm forcing him to look at her. She pointed back towards the mangled metal that used to be their vehicles. The infected were closer; he knew they didn’t have much time.

“Fuck, I know I can hotwire the car in a few seconds.” He said looking at the infected running towards them like a pack of rabid dogs.

The infected running and screaming as the red foam dripped from their mouths. He brought the rifle up and started to squeeze off a few rounds. He was taking a carful aim making sure each shot counted.

He looked off in the distance behind them and could see an old gas station. He turned back towards her. “We need to make a run for it, that’s were we want to be.” He said pointing, she nodded in agreement.

He pulled the rifle up and fired off a few quick shots as she took off in the lead for the gas station. He through the backpack over his shoulders, pulling the AK-47’s magazine out, he fumbled for a new one in the ammo bag.

He turned, running behind her as he pulled the bolt back on the rifle, letting it fly home as it chambered a new round. Sara was running hard when out of the corner of her eyes a few of the infected popped out of a few stores.

She stopped in mid track; he grabbed a hold of her as he fired into the crowed of the dead, running out to greet them.

“I told you, you stop or slow me down I leave your ass, now get the fuck up and run, don’t stop unless I tell you to!” he said looking at her with a wild look in his eyes.

She took off running, not sure if she was more scared of the infected or the man that was trying to help her. The dead fell as he squeezed off round after round, changing the magazines on the run. “This is what I was trained for.” He thought to himself as they ran for the gas station.

The doors to the gas station looked like no one had been inside the store for years. They were covered in dust. Sara pulled on the handle, the door was locked. He looked around trying to find better cover, off in the distance some buildings were burning. The infected were about fifty yards from them; he turned and looked at Sara.

“Stand back!” he said drawing the gun up in the air as he hit the door, breaking the glass.

He grabbed her as he pushed her through the broken glass and into the store. He turned and fired off a few quick burst from the rifle. They were getting closer and it was just a matter of time before they were trapped or one of them.

He threw the bags inside the store as he ducked in through the broken glass, bringing the rifle up and scanning the area, he could see the stockroom doors in the back. The old signs on the walls were from the late eighties.

He hopped the store was vacant and not full of unwelcomed guest. He slung the rifle over his shoulder as he grabbed one of the old metal shelving.

“Sara, grab the other side and help me slide this over the hole in the door. It wont hold them long but it might just give us enough time to think of a better plan.” He said as they moved it, covering the hole.

They could see out the dusty windows, buildings burning, hearing the screams of those trapped inside as they kept piling stuff up in front of the door. The infected had closed the gap between them and were banging on the windows, pulling on the locked door, screaming as they tried to get in.

“What are we going to do?” she said looking at him with fear in her eyes.

He looked around the store, looking for a way out. “The storeroom, we need to check it out.” He said looking as he reached for the gun in his waistband.

He checked the magazine in the 1911, made sure there was a round inside the chamber. She looked at him, her blue eyes full of fear.

[USMCguysak47]

“Do you know how to use one of these?” he said holding the handgun up.

“No, I cant, I can’t kill anyone.” She said with a shocked look on her face.

“Kill, lady I’m not asking you to kill anything. Those things outside are already dead already. This is survival not killing, if you want to survive you will do it, if not, go ahead and die.” He said to her as she took the gun.

“Is it ready to go, what do, I have to do?” she asked him.

“This is the safety, slide it down, point it and aim for the head and squeeze the trigger.” He said showing her how to operate the weapon.

“Don’t leave me here, please come back for me.” She said with a sniffle as the doors rattled hard again making her jump.

“I will be back, if anything comes through those doors or windows make sure you blow them back to hell.” He said to her as he put the rifle in his hands.

He started walking down the old isles of the store. The shelves were bare with a few old things that looked to be just stored there. He stopped as he got to the end of the last shelf, the rifle in his hand as he turned the coroner looking for one of them to be there.

“What is it, is everything okay?” she yelled out to him with the gun pointed out to her side towards the doors.

“Yeah I’m just keeping on my toes. I’m going into the stockroom now, when I get ready to come back out, I will yell that I’m coming out and if I have found anyone. You got that?” he said as he stepped closer to the stockroom doors.

“Yeah, I understand, don’t worry I wont shoot.” She said with a frown on her face of fear.

He stopped as he looked through the cracks in the doors. The back room had a smaller room with door that looked to have a ladder inside it. The sun was beating down through the hole in the roof; he knew they were not alone now.

He motioned for Sara to come to him, a finger to his lips telling her to be quite. She walked slowly towards him with a look of horror on her face. He pulled her in close to him and whispered into her ear.

“We are not alone, see that door?” he said to her in a low toned voice.

“Yeah, is that a ladder? She said as she started to take off through the swinging stockroom doors.

He grabbed her, jerking her back and off her feat. She started to slap him as he caught her hand, pointing a finger at her. The look on his face was stern, as he gained control of her hands.

“I told you, we are not alone and I have no clue if they are friend or foe. Don’t ever make a move like that again unless I tell you to.” He said looking her in the eyes making sure she knew he meant it.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking.” She said back to him

“There are two of us in this now, we are going to survive this but only if we work together as a team, not by ourself. If you go off halfcocked like that, you might not only get yourself killed but me as well.” He said to her as she shook her head agreeing with him.

“Okay, I don’t want to die, not like this.” She said to him shaking her head.

“I want you to go back to the front of the store, take cover behind the counter and if anything dead gets in here, kill it. I’m going to check out the storeroom.” He said to her as she made her way back to the front.

He slowly pushed the swinging doors open; he could feel the cool air of the dark storeroom. The small room gave off enough light to lead the way over to the ladder. He took the small flashlight he had in his pocket, turned it on and scanned the room around him.

The hair on the back of his neck started to stand on end; he knew this feeling all to well. This was the one feeling he would get when out on patrol in Iraq. He knew trouble wasn’t just on the outside of the building but it was in here with them.

He made it to the small room, stepped inside moving the rifle around sweeping the area as he looked up, pointing the rifle up the ladder. The storeroom was clear; the roof was a different story. He grabbed the ladder with one hand, rifle pointed up as he went rung by rung.

He could feel the day’s heat as he got closer to the top. The sunlight was now blinding him after being in the dark stockroom for so long. He popped his head up through the hole in the roof, sweeping the gun around him.

“Stop right there Mr. or I will blow your head off.” The voice said behind him as he froze on the ladder.

“I’m not infected, my friend and I are just………….”

“I saw you both, I know your not infected, but you sure as hell brought a lot of them fuckers with you.” He said cutting him off.

“I’m just trying to get to my family, that’s all, if you have a way out of here we will leave.” He said as he turned to face him.

“What makes you think your family is not one of them now?” he said looking down at the man as he held the rifle on him.

“I just know, it’s a gut feeling, besides if I don’t find out, what kind of man would I be?” he said looking up at the old man.

“My name is Tom, Tom Johnson.” He said lowering the rifle

“John, John Walker, can I come on up now?” he said looking up at him.

They both stood there on the roof looking out over the crowed of the dead that gathered around them. The infected were looking up at them, screaming as the red bloody foam flew from their mouths.

“We are fucked.” The old man said as he stared at all of them gathered below.

“I see you have a ladder leading down off of here. I also see you have an AR-15 in your hands, so I take it you know what you’re doing.” He said looking at the man with a grin on his face.

“Yeah I know how to use it; I spent my time in the ARMY, two tours in NAM. The ladder goes all the way to the ground. Tell me something why the fuck are you grinning?” he said as they started to walk over to the ladder.

“Well Green Bean, this is a gas station, that ladder and a home mad bomb, we are home free. This is a Marine that can get us out of here.” He said looking at the guy still smiling.

“Fuck, leave it to the Marines to think of something stupid to get a man killed. I think I have something that might work in the office.” He said heading back over to the ladder that led back down inside.

They both made it down the ladder back into the cool stockroom; looking out the stockroom door into the main shopping area, they could see Sara’s wide eyes, scanning the area around her.

“Sara, don’t shoot, it’s me John and I have a friend with me!” he yelled out from the stockroom as she jumped, scaring her.

“Okay, hurry up, I don’t like this, things are really quite out there right now.” She said looking back towards the stockroom doors.

“Shit John, she’s right.” He said as they walked through the doors heading to the front.

The air seemed to be thick with tension; they started to head for the front of the store, no one talking. They couldn’t hear anything outside. They looked out the windows as they walked. The infected seemed to have disappeared.

Harrisonburg, Virginia
July 5th 9:50 a.m.

The two men stopped, looking out the windows trying to get a good field of view. They were smeared with blood and dust. The only sounds were of the fires and a few gunshots off in the distant, nothing close to them.

“Sara, make your way back to us.” He said to her as she walked around the coroner of the counter.

“What’s going on John?” she said as she cleared the coroner of the clerks counter.

“I don’t know, I don’t like this at all. We need to………..”

The front windows of the store shattered as one of the came flying through. The two men raised their rifles up, firing at him. The front door started rattling, the barrier moved back as they started to come in. They all started firing at the infected.

The broken window behind Sara was letting them come through freely as well as the front door. Sara took off running as she was hit by one of them, knocking her to the ground. The two men raised their rifles towards Sara; they couldn’t get a clear shot.

“Sara, move to your left.” He yelled at her with the rifle pointed towards the infected on top of her.

She tried to roll out of the way; the sounds of gunfire were defining inside the store. The infected kept coming as they kept shooting. The two men were working their way to the front, leaping forging over each other. They were both veterans, you could tell in the way they moved together.

“John, help me, I can’t hold him off much longer!” she yelled out as she gasped for breath.

The two men kept firing, beating the dead back as they covered each other. They were knocking them back out of the store. The one infected man remaining inside the store had Sara pinned down, holding her by the throat, he started to bite her as the butt of a rifle cracked him over the head.

Sara jumped to her feet and took off for the back of the stock room. The infected leaped to his feet, screaming at them, he had a glowing look of death in his eyes. They booth squeezed their triggers, rounds flying into the man’s chest as he staggered backwards. The old man took a well aimed shot, fired and hit him in the head. The bullet ripped out through the back of his head, splattering the walls inside with brain matter.

The heat of battle was over for the moment. They both looked at each other and their surroundings. They took fresh magazines and loaded their rifles. They new the battle wasn’t over but just this one was theirs, they won one of the many to come.

“We need to get the shit and get the hell out of here John.” The man said as he walked past him.

“Tom, you have any old propane tanks in here?” he asked as he grabbed the backpack and ammo bag.

“I have a few in the back, they aren’t full or anything. Why?” the man asked.

“I have a plan, get a few of them and meet me on the roof. I want to see how they like a big fireball.” He said turning towards the man with a sly grin.

“I hate when a Marine smiles, you just know something worse is going to happen.” He said laughing to himself as he walked to the back.

The old man gathered up the propane tanks, some extra ammo and magazines and put them into a backpack. He looked at a picture on the desk of his old office that had served as home the last few years. The picture was of a beautiful woman in her thirties, holding a child. “I will see you soon, I love you both.” He said tucking the picture into his jacket.

Sara made it to the roof of the gas station, looking out over the city as she ran over the rooftop. She felt hopeless as she looked at the hoards of the infected creatures waiting for them down below.

She felt cold in the summer’s heat, she was shaking, as her heart rate rose. She looked at her hands as they trembled, she felt sick to her stomach. She could hear the others coming up the ladder as she sat down.

The two men made it up the ladder and out onto the top of the roof, they looked all around them. The infected were still there screaming, banging on the barriers they had set in front of the entrances.

The old man laid the pack with the propane tanks down on the roof. He looked over at Sara and noticed she didn’t seem right. The hot sun was beating down on her as she shivered with chills.

“Sara you okay?” he asked her

“Its cold, I will be fine I think, I’m just really scared, that’s all. I could be going into shock” She said looking at him

“Sara it has to be a hundred degrees on this rooftop or more. Were you bitten?” he asked her as the other man walked over looking at them both.

“I don’t think so.” She said looking at both of the men as they drew in closer to her.

“What’s going on? He asked both of them as he looked at Sara.

The sweat was pouring off of them as she kept trembling with chills in the midday’s heat, her bright blue eyes, turning bloodshot. The two men looked at her then back at each other.

“Sara, you okay? I’m going to check and see if you have been bitten.” He said to her as he moved in closer reaching out to her.

“Okay, but I’m fine, just scared that’s all.” She said looking at him.

He felt her head and could tell she was burning up with a fever, the chills running down her body. The clothes she wore were drenched in sweat, as he started looking over her, making sure she wasn’t bitten.

“John, am I okay? I don’t feel like I was bitten.” She said looking at him as he stared into her eyes.

“Sara, everything is going to be okay just lye here and let me think for a moment. You have a cut on the back of your leg.” He said looking back at the old man.

The two men moved off to the coroner of the rooftop acting like they were looking out over the crowds of the infected below. The screams below them drowned out their conversation; they spoke about Sara and her condition.

“Tom, she has a small bit on the back of her leg.” He said looking at the old man.

“How did that happen, I mean I didn’t see him bite her.” He said with a worried look on his face.

“I don’t know but its there, it could have happened before all of this happened inside the store. We did have a lot of those infected bastards around us at the wreck.” He said looking at him.

“What are we going to do? We can let her change or we risk the chance of her killing both of us.’ The man said in reply.

“I know, I know we can’t, but we have to tell her and let her make the choice. I will not do anything she doesn’t want to.” He said looking at the man with a hard face set.

“You can’t be serious? You and I both know if she turns she will turn on us and you will never see your family alive again.” He said with a challenging command in his voice.

“I’ve dedicated my life to protecting the people of the United States, she is one of those people, and she has the right to choose for herself. If you stand in my way of letting her choose, I will kill you myself, so back the fuck off while I tell her.” He said walking away looking at the man letting him know he meant what he said.

The hoards of the infected below screamed out, wanting the food that awaited them on the roof. The old man just looked at them with a blank look on his face. The young woman sat off to the side of the rooftop by herself, shivering cold as he walked up to her.

“John, I’m feeling better, I’m starting to feel warmer now. I will be okay.” She said with a smile on her face as her blue eyes looked up at him.

He looked at her, knowing this was going to be one of the hardest things he would have to do, to this point in his life. He could feel the nerves in his body tighten and his stomach turn over as he knelt down beside her.

“Sara, you have to listen to me……….”

No, no John, I will be okay, I promise you!” she said cutting him off as she began to cry.

“Sara, you have a bit on the back of your leg. I don’t know when or where you got it, I’m sorry.” He said

She was sobbing and wiping away the tears from her face as she looked up at him. He just looked at her trying to find the words and courage to ask her what she wanted to do, knowing he wouldn’t follow her whishes. The world after the Fourth of July would never be the same again for anyone; this drove it home to him as he looked at her.

“Sara, I need to know what you want me to do. Do you want to do this?” he said looking at her.

“Do what, what are you talking John?’ she said with fear all over her face as the tears flowed out of her eyes.

“Sara, if you turn into one of those things, I don’t know if you will be in pain. Do you want me to wait till you change or do you want to do it yourself?” he said holding the gun up driving his point home.

“No, no, you can’t do this, I don’t want to die, I’m not ready, dear lord no!” she yelled out at him.

The old man walked over looking at them both, feeling ashamed that he suggested what needed to be done and not willing to do it himself. He had a tear in his eye as he stood there looking them both.

“Sara, I will hold you and try to keep you warm and I will stay with you until you change.” He said looking at her as he put his hand around her.

“John, if you want………………”

Sara looked up cutting him off. “You don’t get to have a say in this, I bet it was your idea.” She said. “John, I trust you please, help Me, I will help you save your family.” She said looking up at him as he put his arm around her pulling her in close to him.

He looked down at her then looking back up at the old man standing there. The sweat pouring off of them all, he looked at her knowing this would be the last time he saw her alive.

“Sara, I’m right here, I’m not going any were till you’re ready. I want you tell me of a place that you have visited or one that you would want to go to. The one thing that makes you happy.” He said to her holding her into his chest as a tear ran down his face.

“There is this place my family used to take me and my brothers to.” She said

“Where is that Sara, tell me about it, maybe when this is over we all can go there together.” He said to her as she looked up at him with a smile on her face.

“They took us to this beach in Australia; the sand was so white the ocean so blue. My mom always joked with us that the water colored my eyes while we were on vacation.” She said

“Yeah, I know the place Sara, I can see the blue water now and you know it does look just like your eyes.’ He said smiling down at her.

He pulled her in closer as he talked, calming her down, she was trembling more now as he laid her down on the rooftop. He kept talking to her as the look in her eyes started to change.

“I can see the ocean, John it’s so beautiful, I see my family and they have people with them that I don’t know. Do you see……………”

The rooftop was rocked with the eco of the gunshot, ringing out over the sounds of the infected below. The old man flinched as the gun went off, wiping the tears away from his face.

“I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry Sara!” he cried out holding the gun away from her head.

[USMCguysak47]

Harrisonburg, Virginia
July 5th 10:20 a.m.

The rooftop was getting hotter, Sara’s body laid there as the two men worked to get things ready to move out. The area below them were now a sea of infected, you could look out and see burning cars, buildings and the dead walking, running with rage everywhere.

The propane tanks were prepped and ready to go for what ever plan they could come up with. They checked their weapons, ammo and ate a couple of power bars, washing them down with water.

“Tom, I think we’ll go down the ladder over there, we can fire and beat them back as we make our way down.” He said looking at him.

“Okay, that sounds like a good plan. What are we going to do with these propane tanks?” he asked.

“When we hit the ground and need the space we are going to throw them at those bastards, fire into them and send as many of those fuckers back to hell.” He said taking a drink of cool water.

The man nodded his head in agreement, the days events were worse then any day he had spent in Vietnam. The nightmares he had for years, the ones that drove his family away ended up being tame compared to the reality of what is now today.

The men stood up putting their packs on, full of ammo and extra magazines as they headed over to the ladder leading off the roof. They each had one propane tank strapped to them, with one lose and ready to go.

“You want to go first, or would you like me to do this also.” He said looking at the old man.

“I’ll go first, you know damn well we had no chose in the matter.” He said looking at him

“I didn’t see a we in it, I did it and trust me I will do it again.” He said looking at the man letting him know if he crossed him, he would be dead.

The old man moved down the ladder, the screams of the infected grew louder as the shots from the roof rang out. The infected were falling; he kept working the rifle shots from the ladder out, covering the old man as he went.

The ground around the ladder was littered with the dead, the blood and brain matter everywhere. The man raised his rifle up with one hand, firing and signaling for the other man on the roof to move.

The man on the roof looked out over the infected, putting one leg up and over the railing of the ladder, throwing the propane tank down into the crowed. The infected moved towards the sound of the tank hitting the ground. He took aim, the shot rang out with a loud boom, and the infected were lifted up and thrown out away from them.

The palms of his hands were sweating as he made his way down the ladder; he could barley hold on with the weight of his pack, feeling like with each grip he would fall. The sounds of gunfire kept him focused as he made it to the bottom of the gas station.

The two men kept firing, moving and reloading as the infected kept pouring in on them. The heat of the day was draining them; they kept firing, knowing at any moment their time would be up.

“Tom, we need to move towards the front, now!” he said running with the backpack bouncing on his back.

“I will cover you, when you get to the gas pumps cover me!” he yelled while firing off a few rounds.

He made around the coroner of the old gas station, looking all around him, nothing but a sea of the infected, the walking dead. The city was in flames, black smoke rising up in the distance. The rifle brought up as he squeezed off a few rounds.

“Move your ass!” he yelled back to the old man.

The gunfire filled the parking lot with the sounds of the screams from the infected. The bullets were ripping through each target, leaving blood and brains all over the place. The old man stumbled as he made his way to the gas pumps taking cover.

“What are we going to do?” he asked the young man as they both reloaded their weapons.

“Drop your propane tank here; we are going to make a run for that old shopping center across the street.” He said pointing off in the distance.

The man dropped the pack, took out the old propane tank as he looked at the younger man. The gun fire was constant as the infected kept coming, falling in front of them. The screams were loud; it sent chills down their spines.

The propane tank was placed between to old pumps, they looked at each other and nodding, it was time to run. The packs weighed heavy on their backs, running hard for the old shopping center. The infected right on their heels, one slip and it would be over.

They both stopped and turned, firing into the old gas pumps and propane tank. The infected screamed as the tank exploded, sending a fireball into the sky with bits and pieces of the infected. They took off running, the infected making their way through the fire.

The old man was lagging a little behind, as the younger man turned, pointed his rifle at the infected and squeezed the trigger, flames still licking the days sky with thick black smoke. The man picked himself up and pushed on, falling in behind the young man.

“Tom, when we get there we need to head for the side of the building and find a ladder that leads up to the roof. We can get in that way.” He said yelling back to the man as they ran.

“Roger that!” he yelled half out of breath as they kept moving for the shopping center.

The side of the building shielded them from the sun, as they could feel the difference in the tempter; it was a moment of relief from the days heat. The sounds of the infected still filled the air; it was if they could smell them, dinner was just around the corner.

The ladder leading to the roof was in front of them, it was one that you had to jump up and grab on and pull it down. They turned looking around them, trying to find something to stand on. The old garbage bens, if they could move them that would be their only way up and onto the ladder.

“Tom we need to move those garbage bens as close to the ladder as we can.” He said

“I hope those bastards can’t climb.” He said as they moved over to the bens.

The old garbage bens were not full and very light to move, the wheels on the bottom helped. They moved them right next to the ladder; climbing up on them they could hear the sounds of the infected coming towards them.