Damien jumped at the sound of a loud crack followed by a thump. [i]What was that?[/i] He was lucky enough to have found a handgun in one of the desks he had looted only minutes. Raising it, he peered around the corner into the police station lobby. [i]It's not a biter.[/i] He thought, relieved. The Gun had no ammo in it. This was unlikely to bluff a Biter, but a kid... Stepping into full view he raised his weapon pointing it at the mans face.

"Drop your stuff, punk" He growled, looking as intimidating as possible. [i]I hope he has food.[/i] Damien had already hit a few houses but when this all went to hell most families headed towards the refugee centers. That had turned out to be a bad idea. The army had been able to round up the biters at first, even putting them in the camps separately to be quarantined and possibly treated. This meant that on the first night hundreds of people were awakened to the now veracious undead, a violent whirlwind of blood and bullets and gnashing teeth.

"I swear I'll put a bullet in you and take it from your corpse if I have too" He added.