[b]Name:[/b] Eric Connors
[b]Group:[/b] "Walkers" (Michael Connors)
[b]Age:[/b] 32 
[b]Occupation:[/b] CNC Machinist, Operator 
[u]Family life[/u]
Father: Reggie Connors. Died in 2011 from cirrhosis of the liver.
Mother: Susie Connors, 58. Lives in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Lives off pension of father. Fate unknown.
Older Brother: Damien Connors, 35. Lives in Seminole Alabama. Works as a paralegal. Fate unknown.
Leech of an Ex-Wife: Jessie Landry, 31. Lives in Kansas City, Missouri. Works as a [s]heartless bitch[/s] [s]succubus[/s] travel agent. Deceased.
Son: Michael Connors, 10. Currently traveling with Eric Connors. 
[b]Hair:[/b] Light brown
[b]Eyes:[/b] Dark brown
[b]Height:[/b] 5'10" 
[b]Weight:[/b] 166lbs
[hider=Picture][img]http://reeltheory.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/Lago_DuckHunt1.jpg[/img][/hider] 
[b]Blood type:[/b] B+ 
[b]Immune:[/b] No

[b]Gear:[/b] Eric travels with everything with him, and staying mobile is his strongsuit. He takes with him a camouflaged molle pack a little smaller than full size, packed tight with camping equipment. Flint starter, solar camping lantern, rechargeable kinetic flashlight, portable radio, cast iron skillet, bed mat, waterproof tarp, weather resistant sleeping bag, Sawyer water filter, Camelbak, and anything else you'd take with you for a week-long hunting or camping trip. Along with this Eric is stocked with a few boxes of 12-gauge shells and .300 magnum ammo for his Remington 870 pump-action and Weatherby Vanguard respectively, with a rifle cleaning kit that he doesn't use as often as he should what with being on the run all the time and all. Eric crafted a shell rack for his Remington the week that he first got it and his Marlin has a 3-9x32 sight attached, and both are equipped with slings. He collects food, water, and other valuables when he can and normally has a supply that'll last at least two days of living and more if he stretches it out. Eric also has a few other odds and ends with him: half a roll of duct tape, couple screwdrivers, some batteries, and whatever tobacco products he can lay his hands on which is two cans of dip and almost a full pack of Camel Crushes right now. Eric keeps a Leatherman knife clipped to his pocket and a larger hunting knife on his pack.

Another change of clothes is packed into his bag, but it's mostly filled with other things. The one exception is socks, of which he has nearly five pairs. Eric chooses to attire himself in his camouflage hunting coveralls, hiking shoes, fur lined camouflage jacket, and cotton work gloves to keep himself warm in the cool weather and especially at night. When he isn't wearing his black knit cap, he's probably wearing his John Deere hunting hat.

[b]Bio:[/b] Eric Connors grew up in Chattanooga, Tennesse, with his mother, father, and older brother. His father worked as a mechanic while his mother stayed home to watch the kids. During the spring and summer the boys would run around outside and play sports until they were old enough to drive around and get into trouble, and in the fall and winter their father would take them hunting, just the three of them. It wasn't a particularly exciting or eventful upbringing, but it was a happy one. Eric was a little too scrawny for the football team in high school, so he joined track instead and concerned himself with shop where he'd get to work with wood and metal. Eric always enjoyed working with his hands and began working with his father at G & L as soon as he was any good. Right before Eric left for college, his father severed most of his fingers in an accident where they were caught in a grinder at work, after which he spiraled into alcoholism.

Eric saved his money up to attend college in Aurora, Colorado at Pickens Technical College in 2003 to learn how to work with metal, changing his major from welding to working as a machinist after his first semester. He met his future wife Jessie in Denver while out with some friends of his on a trip to Denver, and the two stayed in contact and eventually grew close. Eric married her when he got her pregnant in 2007 and they moved to Colorado Springs. They had a healthy boy, Michael, named after Michelangelo which Eric swears is from the famous painter and not the Ninja Turtle. Finding work was difficult for Michael and the young family was normally strapped for cash, which wore on their relationship, but Eric did manage to find stable work by 2009 with NAMJet up in Denver. Unfortunately this was almost a 2 hour drive one way, and Eric found himself away from his family often. In November of 2011 alcoholism finally killed Eric's father and Eric. This was the final nail in the coffin for Jessie after Eric wouldn't "get over it and focus on his own damn family" and she filed for divorce. By April of 2012 the divorce was finalized and she got the kid. Eric moved back to Aurora after this to lessen the commute, and to get out of the house that he'd lived in with Jessie. He found out later that she'd been cheating on him since March of 2010.

Eric spiraled into depression and hit the bottle pretty hard himself, but didn't manage to fall as far as his old man did. The divorce was pretty rough on him, his ex-wife trying to take everything she possibly could from him while only giving him every other weekend and half the total holidays with his son. Eric occupied his time by dedicating himself to work, drinking, and the only two hobbies that would give him any sort of joy anymore: metalworking and hunting. Overtime he began to isolate himself, going out less and less with his coworkers in favor of staying home to drink or spend his weekends to himself or finding fun things for him and his son to do together. He knew that Michael resented him, that that harpy had been planting bad ideas about him in his head and it made him try his best to win his son over. They did bond over their mutual love of hunting, but Michael would always complain that he didn't do things "like Scott does" and it tore him apart to hear it.

One of those holidays he'd have with his son would be Valentine's Day, February 2017.

Eric decided to go on a hunting trip with Michael for elk out by Keystone, a few hours away. It's not like he had a date anyway, and that ice-hearted bitch knowingly gave Eric Valentine's with his son so she could get fucked all day, so he wanted to give his son something fun to do. Eric had Michael take the rest of the week off from school, they loaded up into his Jeep Grand Cherokee and off they went. They ended up spending four days in the wilderness, and despite the cold Eric thought that Michael had a pretty good time. He bagged his first bull on day two, and even though they didn't see anything on the last day Michael couldn't wait to score his kill. They loaded up on the 19th and began the long drive back to Aurora, and walked straight into the apocalypse.

The first sign that anything was wrong was the aircraft. The Air Force Academy was a ways up from where he used to live in Colorado Springs and he'd hear the jets and helicopters taking off all the time, but never like this. Never this many and never like this. There were tons of jets and helicopters overhead, often at once, but Eric didn't think anything of it at the time. Maybe some kind of multi-day airshow or military exercise, he couldn't say. But it made him uneasy. The second was when the cellphones stopped working. He'd been checking his sparingly while they were out hunting to keep the battery alive, but Michael brought it up first. No signal on day three. At all. But Eric thought that maybe they'd hit a deadzone. They're trip was almost over anyhow. Reality sunk in when they hit the roads. The I-70 was clogged with cars... but it wasn't traffic. These cars were abandoned, some were damaged, and there was a throng of people just walking. Just walking up the I-70. Warning bells were triggering, but Eric took Michael and started walking too. 

He asked a few people as they walked what was going on. Apparently it was a disease, something like anthrax. People thought that it was a terrorist attack and the radio had told them to get to one of the Air Guard stations for their own safety. The people who got sick turned crazy, started trying to kill people. Eric became even more worried. He lived up by Buckley. He didn't want that on his doorstep. Georgetown looked like someone fought a war there. Half a day up the I-70 was when he turned off of it, out by Route 40. There was something like an angry mob down the road, when the marching line of people started turning in the opposite direction. Eric took Michael and headed off into the woods. They'd brought all their gear with them, they were equipped to handle it. They doubled back toward Saxon Mountain Road, where they spent the night cold and hungry. It took another day to get to Downieville, where they saw the people the other were talking about. They looked... wild. Frightening. Eric had tried to speak to one of them when they tried to grab him, but he was too quick. When they started to group together on him he was forced to shoot three of them, and then another one when he went into the gas station for help. Eric stayed away from the roads after that.

It took another few days to get to Denver, and just a second to realize that they should have never came. The place was overrun with those... [i]things[/i]... if the abandoned military blockade hadn't warned Eric beforehand. He knew he wouldn't make it home to Aurora, but he did his best and avoided most of the sick people in order to scavenge the outskirts for supplies. From there Eric skirted Route 470, staying away from the road itself, popping into residential areas, and keeping his distance from the sick to fuel his trek to Kansas City, Missouri, where Michael's mother lived. Another place he should've never gone. It took nearly four and a half months to even get to the outskirts, and it looked just like Denver. This time, Eric went inside. It was hell. So many close calls, too many of the sick, he'd killed more people than he could count and hid for days on end in abandoned buildings waiting for a window to leave, just to make it to where Jessie lived. And he found her alright. She almost took his throat out and he had to stomp her head in. Michael had been taking everything pretty rough, but this took the cake. It took another month and a half just to get the hell out without getting killed, and for what? To see his least favorite person just one last time? He did it for Michael, on a hope that Jess was alive, but he should've known better.

There on out, Eric and Michael were making their way toward Chattanooga, Tennessee, in hopes that his Eric's mother would still be alive. If anything it'd be worth the closure, Eric didn't believe any place was 'safe' like some of the other people he'd met had claimed. Aurora, Colorado Springs, St. Louis, he hadn't been everywhere but he'd been close enough to know what places were overrun and what weren't. Fort Leonardwood was on the way, and he'd come close enough to know if this 'safe' place was what they said it was. Frankly, Eric didn't care all too much. He'd come this far by being lucky and staying the hell away from the sick people, it wouldn't be smart to risk it. 

[b]Personality:[/b] Eric is the down to Earth sort, and prefers to concern himself with matters at hand than to make guesses or assumptions. He's non-confrontational and would rather let an issue lie than get all worked up over it, and would rather just walk away from something than fight over it. A bit of a hermit, Eric keeps to himself much of the time and is very cautious around others. He's polite enough and understanding, but only giving of what he knows he can afford to lose. Eric doesn't trust easily and keeps most people at a distance, keeping himself pretty quiet within groups. He possesses sharp instincts and will go with his gut if he feels uneasy in a situation, and he usually isn't wrong. Above all he is concerned about his son and being a good father, and will attempt to set the example for him as long as he's present. Eric is also known to be steadfast in the face of anything when Michael's welfare is involved.