In any other or any other place a holding cell was less than ideal accommodations, but this wasn't just any other time or any other place. This was a way of life that not even Stephen King could've dreamed up in his wildest nightmares. New York City was once known as the city that never slept now it might as well be called the city of the damned. Kyle Walker was one of the lucky ones, if you wanted to call them lucky, who was still alive. The holding cell at the local Police Department had four walls, a roof, and only one way in or out. Kyle not had the keys to the holding cell but he also made sure that the door was locked.

The heat told Kyle that he had survived another night and that it was time to try and figure out yet another way to survive the day. Kyle felt the beads of sweat building up in his gas mask, and as uncomfortable as that was the thought of the alternative was more than enough motivation for him to keep his mask on. Kyle sat up and gathered up his gear as he did he saw a mouse on the floor scurrying around. Kyle pulled out a half eaten granola bar from his back pack and laid it on the ground close enough for the mouse to get to it. 

Kyle looked at the mouse and said, [B]"Bon Apatite."[/B] Not that the mouse could tell but Kyle was smiling under his mask. This mouse was the first contact he had with another living being in almost 3 weeks. The last group he was with tried to convince Kyle that parting with his belongings was in his best interest. The three people in that group seemed trustworthy enough, but after 20 minutes Kyle knew what the score was. He tried to leave in peace these three though had no intention of letting that happen, but Kyle knew how to survive and after about 2 minutes the three would be bandits were all three laying on the ground in the fetal position begging for their lives. Kyle saw no point in killing them so he marched them into a subway station left them to ponder their actions as he locked them in an office.

Kyle unlocked the cell door and left the key on the floor. He opened the door and turned to the mouse, who was devouring the scrap Kyle left him, and said [B]"It's all yours."[/B] Kyle then did the Vulcan salute and said, [B]"Live long and prosper."[/B] With that Kyle made his way out of the holding area to what once was the lobby. He took a look around to see if there was anything worth salvaging. He saw some scraps of food and some beverages, but not knowing how long they had been out or who had them last made Kyle think twice about even touching any of it. He looked around the squad room with his baseball bat at the ready and came across the remains of a dead body. It looked as they the body had a bite in the right arm, but more interesting was the sizable bullet hole in the head with a pistol in the left hand. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened here.

[B][I]Someone got bit and had no intention of going out as a zombie. I can't exactly say they were wrong.[/I][/B]

Kyle patted the pocket of his black leather jacket which contained a grenade. If Kyle ever got over run by a group of zombies he would merely pull the pin and see what was next.

Walker figured he had stayed long enough in the safe surroundings of the police station and it was time to move on. He opened the door slowly and peered out carefully. Seeing nothing to get in distress over he made his way out and saw a bridge in the distance. 

[i][B]Yeah I think it's time to get moving on. It's so unsafe in this neighborhood with all the destruction and death I don't see the property values improving much anytime soon, so let's see what's on the other side. Off to the bridge[/B][/I]

With that Walker began to head towards the bridge while whistling "Bridge Over Troubled Waters".