[u][b]Day 35 of The Outbreak[/b][/u]
[b]Morning - 11:00 AM[/b]
[b]Weather - Cloudy[/b]
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It has been 35 days since the Epidemic started. That's what people have been referring to it as. 35 days since the Virus struck the world, tearing it apart faster than anyone had ever wondered, or thought it had the potential to. Most people don't like to refer to the undead as "Zombies." Most will say "Walkers" or "Biters." "Geeks." Anything to avoid that Z-Word. Most of the city's population is dead. Or undead. Military, Police, and anyone who was expected to protect the survivors, are now all gone. Focusing in on Pittssburgh, Pennsylvania, some survivors have managed to stay alive with rough survival skills, and genuine luck. Supplies, after a month's time, are running low. It is time to go and search for what we need. Focusing in even closer, a young survivor stands alone at the top of an apartment building.

Jason Crowley, 22, wakes up in his sleeping bag on the roof of an apartment building, with the only door into the building chained shut. Looking up at the cloudy, foggy sky, he wonders if they're clouds, or smoke from fires, or bombings of other cities. Getting up out of his sleeping bag, Jason looks over the edge of the building. Streets, filled with Walkers, and destroyed vehicles. Police Barricades knocked over, and quarantine zones torn through. The river, full of bloated corpses and walkers that tried to end their own lives before they had a chance to turn. Too bad it doesn't work that way. The city is a dangerous place, and sometimes, you have to go into that urban jungle to gather the basic supplies.

Jason opens up his backpack, looking at his inventory. He takes out a bag of graham crackers, with only about 5 left in the bag, broken, mainly crumbs. "Fuck." He mumbles to himself. He takes out a water bottle and holds it up to the light. You know when you look in a water bottle and there isn't really anything in there, but it has enough to cover the bottom little ring of the bottle? That's what this bottle has in it. He grabs his back pack and throws it on his back. He grabs his shotgun from beside his sleeping bag, and puts in in his little home-made satchel on the side of his pack, just in reach. He picks up the fire-axe from the apartment hallway, and goes to the fire escape on the edge of the roof. Slowly and carefully, Jason climbs down the fire escape.

"Well, here I go. Down into the city. Son of a bitch." He says, climbing down, into the alleyway, which is completely devoid of Walkers for some reason. He walks to the near end of the alleyway, and hides behind a dumpster, looking into the streets. "There has got to be a way to do this without dying..." He sighs under his breath.