[center][b][h3][color=black]Striker[/color][/h3][/b][/center] [center][color=gold][i]You're always hiding behind your so called goddess So what you don't think that we can see your face Resurrected back before the final fallen I'll never rest until I can make my own way I'm not afraid of fading I stand alone Feeling your sting down inside of me I'm not dying for it I stand alone Everything that I believe is fading I stand alone Inside I stand alone[/i][/color][/center] [color=black]The music blared in Strikers ears over the sound of the loud rumbling engine of the Harley Davidson he drove down the forest plagued road they found themselves on. It just barely blocked out the noise of the loud engine of the bike, but then again after almost three or more months on the road he had already gotten used to the sound of its engine. Some would say a motorcycle was a bad idea, especially given the zeds had good hearing, but truth be told they didn't really have the ability to think the sound of a motorcycle was anything good to eat. Which was a good thing in his book, they were able to remain somewhat safe at least when they were traveling, however that did not take away from the fact that the convoy of vehicles were all slowly growing into the final stages of breaking down. Striker would be a lier if he said he did not have high hopes when this convoy was first formed, they had thirty people, good vehicles, ammunition, food, water and most of all they had a plan. It went well at first being on the road, there was a form of happiness, safety almost traveling amongst the wide open freeways. But when the first deaths occurred only a week in, people started to realize that they were not as safe as they were making it out to be. It was a nice gesture he supposed, travel with us and live among those who would protect you, but when people started taking it a bit too seriously and depended on you to keep them alive... it was bound to go bad. No matter what way you sliced it, everyone had to try and protect themselves, hell Strikers entire team, a team of ten highly trained men fell to a horde of these infected pieces of shit. He had been lucky that day himself, lucky he had gotten detained in the quarantine zone a bit longer then intended, by time he had arrived back at the Refuge Camp Donaldson the entirety of the survivors had been compromised. Nearest thing he could figure was that one of the survivors had been secretly infected inside the walls, and then started the epidemic all over again. It was not a pretty site to say the least, he had seen less body parts after a Jihad bombing in a public area. [center][color=gold][i]Skin against skin blood and bone You're all by yourself but you're not alone You wanted in now you're here Driven by hate consumed by fear Let the bodies hit the floor Let the bodies hit the floor Let the bodies hit the floor Let the bodies hit the floooooooor One - Nothing wrong with me Two - Nothing wrong with me Three - Nothing wrong with me[/i][/color][/center] The rock music blasted through the headphones as Striker revved the black Harley and speed up a bit, he had always kept a distance away from the convoy, he was none to impressed with the driving of some of the others in the group, and the last thing he wanted was to be crippled by one of them. The last time a vehicle broke down they nearly drove someone off the road trying to stop the vehicle, it was what happened when you panicked a little bit too hard. Striker flew up a slight incline as the convoy came back into view, he had just been in time to see Hunter one of the younger men of the group kicking a smoking ambulance. Striker shook his head as Chop Suey by system of a down came on in the earphones that were attached to the piece of shit MP3 player he had. He had seen this dance before the last time a vehicle broke down, this was the scream at life moment. Striker pulled his motorcycle up slowly as he twisted the brakes and came to a silent stop, his boot hit the ground as he turned the key in the ignition and the engine clicked off. Hitting the kick stand with his foot Striker got off the motorcycle and took off his head phones just in time to see the group going in separate directions, looks like he had missed the meeting again. Striker looked around subtlety at the woods surrounding them on both sides, it was thick and hiding only god knew what, but it seemed quiet for now... little too quiet in his opinion but that wasn't all together bad now and days. Striker clicked the holster of his Beretta preparing it just in case of a surprise attack as he approached the ambulance and looked at Hunter who looked like he wanted to set fire to the vehicle and be done with it. [b]"Well Hunter it seems that God has once again decided to rain down his blessings among us. I take it that the engine is reacting badly to zed flesh again huh? The smell alone is enough to make you think about momma cooking dinner at home."[/b] Striker joked with about as much hilarity as a person delivering a sad eulogy at a funeral as he approached the ambulance and bent down to his knee taking a look. Yeah it was definitively overloaded with the greasy black charbroiled skin that was zed, leaning back up he shook his head. Seeing the foreign doctor nearby he walked over to him silently, to say he liked the man was an over statement, the dude just seemed to rub him wrong in a lot of ways. Striker always had an eye for trouble, and secretly he had been waiting for some shit to go down the last passing months with the man. However he had kept that to himself, mostly to keep the air clear of static and the fact that the man had done nothing to any of them. Leaning beside the man with his upper back half against the truck he spoke in a dulled down southern mixed deep voiced accent. [b]"Well I see it was your turn this time Doc, nothing a couple bandages and a shot of morphine couldn't cure... that is if we were lucky enough to come across any at this point. How is everything else holding up?"[/b] Striker kept his eyes moving around the area silently, he kept his ears open for possible zeds, the last thing he wanted was to be caught with his compliment down.[/color]