[b][u][center]Jack and Family[/center][/u][/b]

Jack’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel of his Honda Pilot. The crisp leather covering of the wheel squeaked dully under his long rough fingers, emphasizing the morose silence contained in the family vehicle. The big SUV had towed its way through three undead thus far and its front had become stained in blood and gore. Jack had long assumed that the corpses had fallen off, and had been unpleasantly surprised by a straggling undead that had attempted to crawl its way up the hood and unto the windshield, [i]while[/i] the Pilot had been in motion. An increase in speed had deterred it, and, eventually it had fallen off and was left in what Jack had assumed would be a gross pile of guts and flesh.

These monsters thirst for human flesh now seemed to Jack, insatiable. After all, any intelligent hunter would have given up the hunt as soon as it became clear that there was no hunt. But these creatures…were not easily dissuaded. Three hours of slow silent driving had proven they were simply mindless killing machines instigated by some unknown force to keep going. Just walking and walking, limbs missing, feet decaying, eyeballs falling out of their socket…they just kept walking… Walkers, Jack thought humorously, and snorted.

“What’s so funny?” Jem’s accusatory voice sounded from the front passenger seat. Remembering his children, Jack took a moment to glance in the rearview mirror; Scout was fast asleep in the back seat. Her head was drooping to the left and Jack scowled thinking of what pain it would cause her and what complains she would bring forth when she awoke. 

“What’s so funny?” Jem repeated, sounding agitated. 

“Nothing, boy.” Jack answered, keeping his eyes firmly placed on the road. The trees lining the black tarred roads seemed to bend over ominously, clawing down at Jack’s 2013 SUV. Emory University was coming into sight, and Jack sighed with relief when the school’s tall white halls became clear. His relief quickly turned to anxiety as he spotted several of the walking dead ambling about slowly at the entrance way of the main building. 

They would need to drive around to Cox Hall, the cafeteria building, or at least get out and walk on foot. The vehicle would attract too much attention, and the least thing they needed was leading a bunch of undead to the site of refuge. 

“How come we didn’t take the BMW?” Jem sound accusatory and Jack’s scowl deepened with contempt. What kind of boy had he raised? Janice wouldn’t have done better, he had comforted himself many times. But, had he really made a difference? His boy was a cranky, vain, self-centered, know-it-all, and Jack knew it. And, to top it all off, he was afraid Jem was beginning to become too fascinated with sex. Jeez, kid couldn’t even get anyone pregnant and he’d brought home a stack of Playboy magazines the height of the Empire State building. 

“Don’t be [i]vain[/i], Jem,” Jack growled, resisting the urge to throw in some profanities, “Tell me what you’re going to do with a BMW in these conditions. We don’t have luxury anymore and we don’t need it. We just need to survive.”

He glanced at the boy, just in time to see him fold his arms tightly over his chest, glare out the window, and utter something completely unintelligible. Forgetting Jem for the time being, Jack turned his attention to his sweet daughter. Scout was the spitting image of Janice, right down to the dimples on her sweet little chin. Her only defining paternal feature were Jack’s eyes, which she carried with the same gentleness as her father’s, even when she was furious. Jack guessed he had done a right with this little one.

“Louise, baby, wake up.” Jack couldn’t see her, keeping his eyes on the road, but he heard her stretch awake, leather crinkling under her body as she unwound. 

“Wha?” 

“We’re getting out of the car.” Jack said, parking indiscreetly as possible. The tires moved along slowly, and the walkers seemed oblivious to Jack and his family in the deadly silence. 

“Be quiet, Jem.” 

“I know,” the boy scowled as he got of the Pilot, closing the door gently behind him. Getting out, Jack opened the back door, pulling Scout into his arms and placing her on his shoulders. She blinked sleepily and tangled a small hand in Jack’s hair. 

The walk to Cox Hall remained silent until the family of three approached closely upon one of the Hall’s entrances. A group had already assembled and seemed to be waiting impatiently in the front for the doors to open up. 

Jack glanced apprehensively behind him; the gathering was stirring another more dangerous assembly. Undead were slowly approaching in the direction of Cox Hall. For a moment, Jack eyes made contact with the hallowed, sick blue irises of a walker; nothing looked back. 

“Daddy,” Scout exclaimed sounding wide awake, “A dog!”

A big fawn dog among the crowd had immediately caught Scout’s attention, and she seemed animate to intermingle with the strangers who sought safety. Dogs were her favorite, and surely the path to her appreciation. 

The crowd seemed to be waiting on the doors to open; and Jack was beginning to feel subconscious, walking among the crowd in his pricy suit with two young children. He wasn’t prepared to fight anyone, especially when people would assume he had money. A few days ago, that was true; but now he was as poor as everyone else.

Not stopping for pleasantries, Jack pried his way through the crowd, Jem following behind, strangely aloof and morose. 

Wrapping on the door, he jumped when a definitely female voice responded, sounding somewhat aggravated.

“Give me a break buddy. I piled a lot of shit in front of these doors, and I’m the one having to pull it all away again. [i]By myself.[/i]”

A New York accent. Huh. [i]Rude[/i], was the first adjective that came to mind. Jack had gone to New York a grand total of once; he would not be returning. The streets were a thousand time even more packed than Atlanta city, and the people shoved and pushed if you were taking long. Granted, Jack thought apprehensively, many tourists did stop in some pretty damn stupid places to take pictures. 

Stepping back into the crowd, Jack watched as the doors were pried open, leaking light onto the small group as the sun began to set in the background…

[b][u][center]Selina, Kate, and Hershey 
Hershey POV (That’s right, I’m writing from the POV of a dog.): 20 MINUTES AGO[/center][/u][/b]

[b]“Hey, wanna let us in? The dead – uh, walkers – they'll see us if we're out here any longer! Please open up!”[/b]

Hershey’s ears perked up as a human voice penetrated the moving walls at the head of the cafeteria. Selina, one of his human’s, head jerked up. 

She was rubbing Kate affectionately, and Hershey longed to pile himself on the women like he had done in puppyhood. But he was too big now, and neither of his owners had given the signal that it was OK for him to jump on them. And very recently, it was only Selina that seemed to tolerate his affectionate want for cuddles. Kate would lie with him, but no longer allowed him to sit on top of her lap, or throw himself on top of her. Of course, something in her had changed; day by day, she had smelled differently, and Hershey was sure he could hear a little heartbeat coming from her stomach. 

Now, he wasn’t sure what that meant, but he had followed Selina’s example, and been extremely gentle and patient with Kate. And both seemed to appreciate it, and very simply, that made Hershey perpetually happy. The bump seemed important and worth protecting, and so he accepted being unable to cuddle with Kate or Selina.
 
Therefore, he had remained astutely stuck to the floor, sitting very close, and resting his head on Kate’s leg. 

Now, Selina slowly moved, allowing Kate to take her time getting off of her lap and sit herself down in another chair. Hershey licked her hand, before following Selina to the front of the cafeteria. She sighed, placing her hands on her hips, and Hershey nudged her curiously.

Looking down at him, she outstretched her soft palms to rub under Hershey’s jaws. He loved that, and his tell wagged happily.

“I guess it’s time to dismantle my work of art.” Hershey couldn’t understand a noise she uttered, but could understand when her thumb pointed to the pile of chairs assembled unceremoniously in front of the moving walls. Sitting down patiently, he watched with curiosity as she began to shove chairs and tables out of the way, shouting in a somewhat muted voice that the doors would open up soon.

“Hope they heard me,” she muttered, and continued her tedious job. Hershey could hear the crowd outside; many heartbeats, included one that told Hershey there another big dog outside. Bigger than him, he thought, before getting up and prancing back to Kate. Together, they sat and watched Selina work endlessly on her well put together fortress. 

[b][u][center]Selina POV: NOW[/center][/u][/b]

“Give me a break buddy. I piled a lot of shit in front of these doors, and I’m the one having to pull it all away again. [i]By myself.[/i]” 

“I could help you,” Kate voice sounded from behind, and Selina was quick to respond.

“No! Don’t stress yourself babe, I’m nearly done.” And truly, she was nearly done. Just three more chairs and a table and…presto.

Selina pried open the doors, mouth popping open as she was greeted with a vast array of people. An awkward little group composed of strangers and familiar alike. There were clear groups, but the groups intermingled with each other pleasantly and Selina was almost surprised someone hadn’t pulled out a shiv yet and demanded money, power, or safety.

“Um,” she pushed the doors open some more, “Welcome to our humble abode.” She said sarcastically, gesturing an arm flamboyantly in the direction of Hershey and Kate, sitting lonely and confused at the back of the cafeteria, “Hurry up and get the fuck in so I we can pile up some chair and tabled and avoid [i]them[/i].”

She jabbed a finger pointedly at the assembling group of undead in the background. College students, she thought sympathetically, noticing several of the decaying, walking corpses had shoulder bags drooping from their bodies. Positively, she realized, it slowed many of them down; those bags were probably filled with laptops, binders, or notebooks, maybe even textbooks, and that would surely hinder those mindless monsters. 

Gesturing again urgently, the pulled one of the doors more widely open, holding it for the large group. Behind her, out of her eyesight, Kate had her hand stuck in her backpack, indiscriminately wrapping her hand around the handle of a handgun.