[b]Mitchell ST SW/Northside Grocery---> M.L.K. Jr Dr NW
Atlanta, Georgia
United States[/b]


As Deven entered the store he was greeted with a rather powerful aroma of rotting fruit. Directly ahead a short distance was a display that read, “freshly picked fruits from local farms” with an array of what might have once been called fruit, but now were nothing more then molded over inedible clumps. Most of the display had been picked for supplies early on in the disaster but there was still a decent amount of "fruits" left to rot, now the only things scavenging off that display were the flies that swarmed around it. Deven reached up and pulled his scarf up over his mouth in an attempt to alleviate some of the smell. Walking past the display Deven’s eyes scanned over the five check out aisles and the few aisles he could see down from this position. There were no infected down these aisles but neither was there anything much in terms of supplies. He had been expecting this much, it was a fool's hope to think that he might step in and find this whole little market had gone by unnoticed and Deven had no time for fouls hope anymore, no one did. Everyone had to deal in realities nowadays. 

Shifting his backpack slightly Deven began making his way down the furthest left aisle, he didn't have the time to dally. He was still presently
in danger of running into that other group of survivors and they certainly wouldn't take too kindly to him scavenging the place they also had their eyes on. 

As Deven neared the aisle it was clear that it was used for alcohol, which even though he wasn't the biggest fan of alcohol during these times he didn't really have the luxury of being picky. As he walked down the aisle he scanned each rack as he went, those that weren't broken were missing and by the time he reached the end of the aisle he hadn't found a single bottle. 

"Onto the next one." He mumbled to himself.

Giving the aisle one last quick scan he turned and continue down the next aisle which was a freezer aisle for meats and frozen meals. He doubted he would be able to find anything of value here in this section, anything here that wasn't looted early on in this disaster would have gone bad by now and sure enough as he reached the end of the aisle he had found nothing.

Turning he continued on down the next aisle which was another freezer aisle though this one for ice cream. Same for this aisle he doubted he would find anything of value, but one could never be certain. Perhaps a survivor had hidden some supplies in one of these freezers thinking no one would bother to check down this aisle. He knew it was unlikely, but sometimes lady luck had a way of treating the unlucky survivors of this madness to a little treat.

As he walked down the aisle his eyes scanned over all of the different types and flavors of ice cream that had once been so tempting and delicious. He could still remember the taste of his favorite ice cream, he figured there were some people out there that couldn't say the same anymore. But he also figured, that maybe him remembering the taste wasn't that much of a good thing. Maybe him remembering the taste meant that he still held on to the days where on a hot summer day you could go and get yourself a nice icy treat to help fight the heat. Maybe it meant that he missed having that luxury and missed how the world used to be. Maybe if he just let go of how the world used to be then surviving in this crazy fucked up world would just become that much easier. Or maybe it just was as it was, just him being able to remember the taste of his favorite ice cream. As Deven reached the end of the aisle he felt a strange urge to look back, to just spare one more glance. But he didn't, he didn't have the time to dally, not anymore, after all it was just ice cream nothing more, nothing less. 

Reaching the end of the aisle Deven was met with a small display for some wine like most of the alcohol aisle before this one was either looted or filled with empty and broken bottles. Turning right he took a few steps toward the next aisle before he stopped as he heard the shuffling of feet and the raspy breath of an undead nearby. The sound came from in front of him down the aisle he was about to pass into. Instinctively he reached up and pulled his machete from its makeshift holder, gripping the blade tightly in his right hand Deven stepped forward peaking his head around the corner. Directly a few feet into the aisle stood an infected which had been hobbling in his direction likely hearing the sound of his footsteps and going to investigate, as he poked his head around the infected began growing agitated it's pace increased and it began moaning and growling. Deven stepped out completely into view and gripped his machete in both hands.

As the infected closed the short distance between them Deven noticed the satchel that hung at it's side there seemed to be some sort of bulge in the bag that caught Deven's eye. But as the infected got closer it began to speed up as it tried to lunge at him, but as soon as it started to Deven hopped to the side dodging the zombies attempt. The undead's momentum proved to be too much for it to overcome and the infected, much to Deven's horror and mistake, plowed directly into the display of wines creating a loud crash as it broke the wooden display and as the many empty and half broken bottles toppled to the floor shattering. It felt as though the whole world had shook with that crash. 

As Deven quickly moved forward and drove his machete into the zombie's skull he heard a loud and terrifying scream from somewhere down the street. He knew exactly what that scream had come from and as it subsided Deven's heart plummeted to his stomach. As fast as he could Deven dropped down and dug through the undead's satchel pulling out a single water bottle. As soon as he had the water bottle Deven sprung to his feet and his eyes quickly began darting around the room for an escape route. He immediately saw three infected coming towards him from the right side of the store. Between him and them was a double door that read employees only. Without even giving it a second thought Deven darted for the door. 

As he reached the door he pushed against the vertical bars that served as handles to either push or pull the doors open, the door opened with little effort and Deven threw it closed behind him. Immediately he saw a long pipe sitting on the table beside the door grabbing it he shoved he pip through the doors vertical handles where it sat loosely. Knowing the little pipe wouldn't keep the door shut for long Deven hurriedly opened his pack and dropped the water bottle in and put his machete in its makeshift holder as he zipped up the pack his eyes darted around the room looking for anything he could as an escape route. There were two large doors that served as a loading bay for trucks dropping off merchandise but they were both completely shut and would take at least a minute to open and even then would create quite a ruckus in being opened so fast. Then he saw it, to his left just above a shelf was an open window he could escape through there, it might be a bit of a drop to get out but at this point he didn't have much of a choice as he heard the undead begin banging on the door behind him.

Before he could finish zipping up his bag he noticed on the shelf he was about to climb sat three cans of what a quick glance told him was food, below them lay a ripped apart body. Deven figured it must have been a survivor who had collected those three cans before getting attacked. Here he was, he had managed to find some supplies, but now was forced with either risking his life in gathering them or taking the short time the bar in the door provided to get a head start on what he knew was on the other side of the door.

"Fuuuck" Deven growled as he glanced from the cans toward the door and began unzipping his backpack once more.

Rushing to the cans he held his pack with one hand and scooped the cans in with the other, as he did two of the cans fell into his bag but the third just barely missed it falling to the floor in a thud. 

"Fuck it!" He said loudly, zipping his bag as fast as he possibly could before putting it back on his back and beginning to climb up the shelves. He could hear behind him the bar holding the door was getting looser and looser and he could hear the screams of the undead on the other side. His heart raced as he climbed the shelves as fast as he could, just as he reached the window and began to climb through his backpack got caught on the upper part of the window and he heard the bar fall to the floor. The door flew open smashing against the wall as it did. Sparring a glance backward into the building Deven saw two undead sprint into the room, they glanced about for a short second before seeing him climbing through the window. As soon as they did they let out terrible screams and began running towards his shelf. 

"Fuck fuck fuck!" Deven cried as he began pushing harder and harder through the window.

As Deven forced his way through he noticed just how high up his window was, it was at least 15 feet while the building was at least 20 feet high
though luckily for him directly below him there was a white van parked, if he could get himself through the window and keep holding on the drop would be child's play. But as he turned to look behind him once more he felt his backpack break free from the window and Deven slipped through the window losing his grip and falling down on his back directly on his van. There was a loud thud and the roof of the van bent in as he landed.

Deven lay there for a short second as he gasped staring directly up towards the sky, he hadn't broken anything, but he was certainly disoriented. Just as he began to regain his orientation Deven saw a bloodied hand reach through the window as one of the undead reached it. "Shit!" Deven cried as he forced himself up he dropped off the roof of the van and stumble for a second before breaking off into a run. He had come out of the building in a small clearing between the grocery and more houses. To his left was the main part of the grocery, to the right were some houses which were walled off, but directly ahead of him was Mitchell street. Deven felt the pain of his fall slowly subside as the adrenaline coursed through his system, he definitely hadn't broken anything but he guessed he would have a lovely bruise the next morning if he lived that long.

As Deven reached the street he heard the sound of bodies falling against the roof of a car from behind him, he could only assume one of them had made it through the window though he was completely unwilling to look over his shoulder and check. Once on the street Deven immediately turned right nor pausing for a second to plan, any decisions would have to be made on the fly. He could see down the street some distance away there was a fence for a construction sight with that as his goal Deven sprinted as fast as his legs could carry him. He could hear the undead behind him he had a few seconds of a head start but that didn't matter much, if he kept things as a straight sprint like this it would catch him in no time.

Deven heard the infected yelling behind him as it raced to catch him. He cut through a small parking lot in order to reach the construction sight faster, the infected was only a few second behind and gaining fast he had to put some object in between him and it to slow it down, they were fast runners and climbers and were smarter than the average undead but they still weren't as smart as the living the more complicated the route the harder for them to follow.

As Deven reached the fence he jumped and easily climbed over the wire fence, before resuming running. He had only a few second to take in the area. But that was all he needed to see that the construction site had been used as an evacuation sight early on in the outbreaks. Directly to the north across the construction sight and a field of undead was the Georgia Dome. Scattered throughout the entire site were tents, some standing some collapsed all of them marked with either red cross insignias or military insignias. Ahead of him about 540 feet was a incomplete ramp leading up to some raised streets. In front of the ramp there was some scaffolding that led up to the raised street, as soon as he saw this Deven knew where he had to go. Running as fast as his legs could carry him Deven darted towards the scaffolding dodging in between tents and infected as he did.

As he ran Deven heard the fence rattle as the undead reached to fence and easily scaled it as soon as it was over the undead paused as it tried to find where it’s prey had gone. It took a few short seconds for the undead to spot Deven darting in between some tents a head, as soon as it saw him the undead screamed and took off after him. Deven had gained a small advantage, as long as he could keep breaking the undead's line of sight he could keep himself a little ahead of it, but this section of tents was quickly running out and soon it would just be an open sprint to the scaffolding. If he wasn’t far enough ahead at that point then it would all be over.

With that grim thought in mind Deven pushed himself on this wasn’t how he was going to die, not at the hands of these worthless husks, no he had to live on for all the people he had lost along the way. 

Finally Deven broke through the last row of tents, to his luck and also misfortune the area between him and the scaffolding was for the most part void of infected and was relatively flat, it meant he had nothing to worry about avoiding but also meant the undead chasing him had a massive advantage. As Deven ran he heard the excited screeches of the infected behind him, images of him being torn to shreds by the very undead he was running from flashed through his mind, but he ignored every single one of them. He wasn’t going to let that happen, no matter what.

“Come on!” He said through gritted teeth as his feet pounded against the gravel under foot, with every second he could hear the undead getting closer and closer. He could almost imagine it was right behind him it’s raspy broken breath right on the back of his neck, he had to move faster, he had to make it this couldn’t be his end. 

The scaffolding quickly came closer and closer as Deven ran on, his heart pounded in his chest as it circulated blood to his legs which felt as though they were being pushed to their limits his body burned for one thing and one thing only survival. It was a primitive and carnal feeling, the powerful need to survive. When this all began he quickly learned just how strong a person's survival instincts could be, before this all started he never had his life in immediate danger and now it was being threatened at this very second and was on the daily, this overpowering drive was something he had grown accustomed to over the 2 and a half months he had been fighting to survive and it burned bright as ever in him at this very moment. 

As Deven arrived at the scaffolding he jumped as high as he possible could grabbing on to the wooden board that made up the floor of the scaffolding and quickly pulling himself up. Just as he got his whole body up he heard a loud crash and the whole scaffolding shook as the undead jumped and grabbed on to follow him. It had started to pull itself up onto the scaffolding when it was knocked off with a hard kick to it’s head. The undead collapsed back off the scaffolding landing on the ground below. Screaming in frustration the undead was up onto it’s feet almost as fast as it had fallen and was pulling itself onto the scaffolding as it chased it’s prey which was just a single level above. 

From level to level Deven climbed pulling himself up onto each wooden floor as fast as he possibly could. He heard the undead close behind him and a second just now reaching the scaffolding. As he pulled himself up Deven turned and watched as the undead grabbed on to the spot he had just been in. Grabbing his machete he pulled it from his back.

“Leave me alone you undead motherfucker!” He growled before he swung his machete down cutting through the undead's wrist. The undead screamed as it plummeted to the ground below. Without wasting a second Deven turned and began climbing up the next level. As he climbed he heard the undead he had just knocked off scream in anger and resume its climb starting from the beginning.

“They never fucking quit.” He cried to himself as he pulled himself up another level. 

Finally he reached to top of the scaffolding as soon as he did he quickly scanned the area, seeing no infected and turned towards the scaffolding he had just ascended and readied his machete in both hands. The second infected was close behind him and as it pulled itself up the last level of the scaffolding and grabbed on to the street Deven stood on he brought his machete directly down on it’s skull. His blade met its mark and dug deep into the undead's head ending it for good. The body collapsed back limply and fell of the scaffolding entirely nearly knocking off the first infected that followed close behind it. 

Even with it’s severed hand the undead was still a speedy climber and could put most every person to shame with how fast it could scale an obstacle. But fortunately that story was different if the obstacle had someone standing above it with a machete. 

As the undead grabbed onto the street Deven stood on and began pulling itself up Deven wasted no time in swinging his machete down once again cutting into the undead's skull. The zombie went limp and collapsed back onto the scaffolding below as it died for the final time. 

As Deven stared down in triumph at the two corpses of the undead he only spared a quick glance around hi  ensuring there was no other infected nearby aside from the one grouping at the base of the scaffolding. Once he was certain no more infected were nearby he collapsed back laying down on his back on the asphalt as he caught his breath. 

“Fuck runners.” He said breathlessly to himself as he struggled to catch his breath. 

For several moments Deven lay there staring up at the cloudy sky above. He had almost forgotten that it was raining. As he lay there the cold rain water felt better then anything he could have imagined. But he couldn't waste anymore time laying there resting, he had recovered enough and would have to recover the rest on the move he had to see where it was he had ended up and find a place to gather his bearings. Pushing himself up off the street Deven slowly got to his feet as soon as he did he glanced around looking for a sign to show where it was he had made it to.

"Huh M.L.K. Jr Dr." He sighed as he read the street sign a little ways ahead. 

Slowly his gaze turned away from the street sign and towards the city ahead, as he did he heard a gun shot rip through the air which Deven couldn't help but feel may have been a bad omen. Cities were always trouble their once higher populations now only equated to a higher population of undead. While there was a for the most part better amount of supplies to be looted in cities there was also increased dangers of infected and other survivors. But now he was left with little choice, the road to his right was collapsed and was too far of a drop for him to be able to walk away from, the road to his left led to the Georgia Dome and a whole mess of infected, his last choice was the street straight ahead which led into downtown Atlanta.