Why couldn't it have been aliens? [Tag: Mike]

[Warren da Silva]

Today was certainly a fine day to raid the nearest pharmacy. One of Warren's earliest lessons had been that fire escapes could often be his best friend, and with the help of one, he'd found an isolated rooftop nest to hide in. On the rooftop, a maintenence closet had become a very useful spot to lay low. He'd only needed to evict the tenants first. Fortunately, that only amounted to a few cleaning tools and such-- no diseased zombie people to speak of. When things were quiet enough, he'd sneak out for supplies, and he'd take as much as he could in the hardy backpack he'd taken from one of the many people who'd crossed his path and not been as fortunate as he.

Although the infected seldom seemed inclined to inspect the rooftop, he'd enjoyed a few thrilling close calls, usually involving the heated pursuit of someone else. Fortunately, the infected weren't nearly afraid enough of heights to linger long enough and find him... though the scenario of being trapped inside with the infected beating in the metal door to get at him had only played out in his mind a zillion times. Often enough in his nightmarish dreams. Odd as it might have seemed, a biohazardous apocolypse wasn't exactly the best thing for calm and restful sleep. To that end, he'd swiped a few bottles of valerian root suppliments from the pharmacy on his last venture to help him get the sleep he knew he'd need in order to survive.

It hadn't helped much, though.

Stepping out onto the rooftop cautiously, he scanned the area and found no one around to threaten him. Looking back into the closet, he sighed, missing luxuries such as clean bedspreads, dressers, and space to stretch his legs. There was essentially just enough room for a twin sized mattress, and he'd made use of the shelves along the back wall as well to store his various provisions. He kept what few clothes he'd managed to accumulate in a folded stack on the floor, at the foot of the matress, and there wasn't much else to speak of in Warren's lovely little home. He cleared his throat-- he'd been struggling with a bad cough for the past few days, and pulled his hoodie tight around his body as if it would shield him.

In fact, it likely would. Clothing had often been the only layer seperating Warren from a damning contamination on more than one occasion. Were it up to him, he'd never see another close call... but he needed supplies to survive. Among those included his 'medication'. He felt certain that in such madness, he'd soon die of cardiac arrest without it-- although that certainly sounded a lot more pleasant than being caught up by New York's finest citizens. Quietly and cautiously, he shifted his leg over the edge of the building, and prepared to climb down too floors to the fire escape. He'd only done it a billion times, but growing complacent could cost him his life just the same.

Nevermind the possibility of falling. The infected could burst through a window at him if he made too much noise. He soon felt a cool lick of rain, and managed to smile a bit, knowing it would work in his favor by bringing down his scent. Thoughts entertained his idle mind as he went through the motions of climbing down, and he wondered how long it would be until there was no food left to survive on. It seemed more likely that the population would die out first, but non-perishables were harder to come by these days. Dragging frozen burgers and a grill up to the roof top didn't seem like a lot of fun.

Warren looked around warily for what might be lying in wait. With careful, muffled footfalls, he began to make his way toward the back street that he'd use to reach the pharmacy. That street had perhaps become the most dangerous part of his routine, but it certainly beat the more open and 'populated' areas. It wasn't long until he began telling himself that eyes were on him. Picking up the pace, he glanced around for cover, should it be needed, and that was when the uneven and frantic pattern came. No one charged like that unless they were already gone, and as soon as he heard them closing in, he broke into a sprint and hoped to lose them.

This was the trouble with urban ruin, though. As he charged on for his life, he quickly realized someone had unwittingly placed a large courier truck right at the end, blocking his path completely. Thinking fast, crawling under didn't seem wise. He might get caught by the heel, or be caught prone on the other side-- and the large vehicle's door was just behind the width of the alley way. Now he was out of escape route, and out of options, so he turned to catch sight of one of the largest men he'd ever seen. The man looked like a lumberjack straight out of the forest, at least by the size of him, and escape quickly gave way to 'get out of his reach as quickly as possible'.

He'd have to actually take a long stride toward his pursuer-- and quickly. Launching himself up from an overturned trash can, Warren caught his fingers through the grating of yet another fire escape and quickly flattened his body underneath, hoping to be out of reach and quickly realizing that he wasnt when he felt an impossible strength begin to pull at him from below. It was his backpack, or his life, so he didn't waste time writhing his way out of the thing and letting Mr. Lumberjack have it. Next it was his shirt, which hung from his form, and he regretted not tucking it in beforehand. He felt the fabric rip, and let out a squeal, shutting his eyes and clinging for his life.


"C'MON MAN!!" he shouted, losing his mind in the moment. He began to seriously consider this to be his last day, and his knuckles went white against the grating as he rattled it with frustration, "THIS JUST SUCKS!!!" he held fast like a cat, but soon let out a panicked scream as he felt the fire escape give a few inches downward as a result of his foolish jarring. "No-no-no-no-no--please-please-please-no!!!" he clenched his eyes shut, and was soon holding his breath. There was nowhere to go but down, and his muscles were beginning to seriously burn. To make things that much worse, the very surface he clung to for safety threatened to come down on them both and crush him to death.

[Mike Lane]

Mike was off on a little adventure with Victoria today. They were going off to gather food. The group could only go so long without eating. The vending machines just weren’t enough in the museum to keep them all satisfied. So every few weeks two of the group members would have to go out and run down the nearest store to gather some food. This week is was all up to Mike and his older cousin Victoria. Him and his cousin were close, and everything he looked at her he thought of her older sister, Anna. Mike was with Anna when the breakout occurred and didn’t get to her in time before she could bit all over by infected and soon died. He blamed himself, not knowing what else to do about it. He also lost his older cousin, Bennett. Both of them became infected and Kayla had to kill both of them. She was the only one with access to a firearm at the time.

Mike and Victoria set out. They tried to be quiet about it and not alarm any infected that they were on their way. It wasn’t that easy to sneak around with so many of them devouring the streets. So, they had to take alleys and backstreets, wherever they could go without having to worry about infected surrounding them and taking a bit. It was their time to get some food.. Not the infected’s.

“Here we are, we can slip right through the back.” Mike explained. The two of them were hiding behind a large truck that carried food which was located behind the store. There was a large metal door for transporting food inside the store, and that was there ticket inside. Victoria looked around to see there were infected coming from the next lot over. “Hurry up, lets move!” Victoria said as she tugged on his shirt and they ran for the store. Mike opened the door and let Victoria in first. He looked around to make sure they were not being followed before slipping inside and closing the door. They were in the back, so they were basically surrounded by meat. “To bad we can’t eat stuff like this…” Mike muttered as he sighed and walked through to the find the set of doors that went out to a set of registers where one would by the meat. “Speak for yourself..” She muttered as she followed him out.

Mike had his crossbow all loaded and ready to go. Victoria came weaponless, knowing they were going to need some free hands to transport the food back to the museum. One infected came out from ne of the isles. He was big, fat, and his clothes were ripped all over. “Sorry tubby, not today!” Mike said as he pointed the crossbow at him and fired, nailing the fat infected right in the forehead. It went down with a thud and Mike looked back at her. “Maybe we should hurry.” Victoria suggested and Mike nodded.

With that, they hurried. Victoria found a cart and they started loading it up with anything that looked appealing.

The only thing they had to worry about was how the hell they were getting the stuff back to the museum. Usually they just took the cart over to the museum and exposed of later. It wasn’t the safest thing, but it usually worked for them. One more infected came in from the isle and Mike shot that one down as well. “We got everything?” He asked. Victoria looked at the cart and nodded her head. “Yeah, I’d say so.” She said, and then they ran back out to the back of the store, through the meat lockers, and outside. Mike looked back and saw a ladder going up the roof. “I’ll create a distraction, you just keep going. Don’t worry about me.. Go!” He demanded and she ran off, pushing the cart. Mike climbed up to the roof with the crossbow hanging from his back. Lucky for him he had a holder that was strapped around him like a bag, so he didn’t have to worry about juggling it.

He ran over to the edge of the store where the front entrance was and started to shoot. He shot at the infected, one after another. He knew he was going to have to go back down there and get some arrows, but he wasn’t worried about that right now. “Come get some dinner, bastards!” He yelled as he kept shooting until the infected around the store were down for the count. He ran across the roof and hoped on a street light that was right next to the building and used it to slide down to the ground. He then proceeded to collect his arrows from the infected around him and reloaded them in his crossbow.

He saw some in the distance and decided to get a move on.

Mike ran down the street a ways until he heard something crying for help. He saw somebody being attacked from a fire escape and Mike ran for the building next to it. He could still hear the man yelling from outside. "THIS JUST SUCKS!!!" Mike hurried to the top floor and ran over to a window that was luckily already open. "No-no-no-no-no--please-please-please-no!!!" The man was about to lose his grip and fall to his death with an infected hanging off him. He kneeled down and aimed right for the head of the lumberjack looking infected and launched the arrow. He got him right in the head and watched as the infected fell down to it’s death. “You’re welcome!” Mike said almost full of pride as he hung out the window and waved so he could see where Mike was and that he was the one who just saved his ass.

Mike then went back inside and ran back down to the ground floor and back outside. He went around to the alley where the man was coming back down and Mike ripped the arrow from the infected’s head. “Hey, I’m Mike.. Nice to see another survivor.” He said as he loaded the crossbow again and then raised his hand for the guy to shake it.

[Warren da Silva]

Warren needed a moment to catch up. As quickly as the stranger had appeared in the window to snipe Warren's assailant down with a shaft to the skull, he'd vanished back inside and left Warren alone for what felt like a terribly long period. With cautious glances, Warren quietly and carefully eased himself down to his feet, dropping into a crouch and taking a moment to catch his breath. Regardless of all the bad luck leading up to this point, he was considering himself a lucky bastard now. He took his backpack back up from the ground as it was within reach, and for a moment marveled at its impeccible durability. His shirt hadn't fared so well, and he could feel the brick of the building against his skin in his defensive position, but he hadn't felt any grievances upon his skin.

After a moment, the stranger reappeared on ground level and Warren seemed nearly as surprised as when he'd appeared the first time. He was up to his feet quickly. "I haven't seen anyone in weeks..." was the first thing he thought to say, "Are there others?" he asked, though he maintained a healthy distance even from the stranger who'd saved him for the moment. Warren was clearly quite shaken by all that. Catching a few more breaths, he hugged his chest defensively, just waiting for his heart to slow down. "Thank you... I was so close... I was..." he glanced back to the man's disfigured corpse and winced as he thought of being caught up by him. "I'm ah... Warren. I owe you one," he only briefly tlanced at Mike's offered hand, then his eyes wandered up over the fire escape, as if he didn't understand the concept of a handshake at all.

Still quite on edge, Warren looked all around, nearly paranoid that more might find them. He was still clearly quite shaken by the ordeal, but began to think more and more on what it might mean if there were other survivors too. Maybe there was a better, safer place that Warren could be laying his head down. For some time, he'd been on his own, and that hadn't been easy. He needed all of the backup he could get,, and Mike with his Robin Hood skills certainly seemed like a perfectly reasonable start.