[center][h2]Fall of Wilmington[/h2][/center] A ringing engulfed his hearing as his vision slowly came to existence. Amidst the sound of the ringing he could hear the crackling of a large fire and screaming, chaos that was once under a shameful attempt at being controlled. “W-What the fuck...” His focus came in as he looked slightly off to the side at the sight of his unit's Humvee. Its side was caved in where the 10 ton Mack truck, carrying a full load of Best Buy product, as seen by the scattered TVs and Laptops strewn across the pavement from the jackknifed trailer that had undone itself in the process. The driver of said truck could be seen twenty feet away from it in a lifeless corpse. John's eyes widen as he scrambled to get up, only to notice the sharp pain from his shoulder and the migraine that had begun to show its ugly head. 'Fucking should-ARRGH' He silently screamed as his weight buckled the dislocated shoulder. He grit his teeth and growled as he placed his other hand on the shoulder and jammed it up and back, placing it in its appropriate place, causing his vision to fail on him once more. [color=00a651][i]'Gotta move...Gotta get up now!'[/i][/color] Once again he began to move, slowly as to not cause much dizziness but enough that he wouldn't remain on the ground for too long. John had, as soon as he got up, ran over to the Humvee to check on his brother in arms...Only to find them dead. Tyler, known to John as “Kermit”, had his head cracked open against the driver side window. His best friend, George Ramirez, who he called “Rammy”, had been thrown about when the vehicle was hit and his body laid over the shifter, his head smashed against the dash with blood running down to the shifter. James Johnson, “JJ”, a greenhorn just out of the academy and into the unit, had his neck cracked open among other wounds. The last man, Felipe, who they all called “Frenchie, was nigh recognizable as he took the brunt of the accident. He scanned over them as his heart jumped to his throat. His breath hitched a few times as he let out a almost inaudible “Oh god”. He had gotten his team killed, so he thought. But thinking soon stopped as he felt a forceful yank back by unknown hands, only to see as he fell back to the ground, a face that was bloody. She, if she could even be recognized as a she now, was missing teeth and skin on parts of its face, not needing to mention across its neck and torso. [color=00a651]“Fuck!”[/color] He yelled as he grabbed hold of its collar and pushed up, attempting to literally save his own skin. Among the pain emotionally from his friends' deaths and the physical pain from his shoulder, he also had heard the sounds of feet approaching his area. Quickly and instinctively he he went to action. His right hand shot down to his left side, unsheathing his issued blade and jammed it multiple times in the side of the walkers head, its lifeless eyes becoming even more so as it went limp. He rolled back onto his feet as he withdrew his rifle and and looked around only to furrow his forehead. What seemed to be dozens of these...things, came charging at him with crazed looks in their eyes. Without hesitation he raised his rifle and fired, the sound of muffled pops echoing through the city as the silencer did its job. [color=00a651][i]'Move. Don't stay. Get the fuck outta here.'[/i][/color] He thought as he shuffled backwards, occasionally looking over his shoulder for some kind of exit, or way to escape. Car, truck, bike....hell if there was a skateboard he would use it. He didn't care. John had pivoted and ran around the corner away from the horde and into a nearby building. [center][h2]Present[/h2][/center] Heavy panting, the sound of boots hitting small puddles as they slapped down onto the pavement. [i][color=00a651]'Was it supposed to rain today?'[/color][/i] He wouldn't know. All he knew was that it was cloudy and it had begun to drizzle earlier. He focused on the road in front of him, Creek Road, near Aston PA. He had taken residence in many spots since the Fall of Wilmington, DE. In most of these cases, it wouldn't be for long. His most recent was at the 7eleven in Aston. Packing his bag with a few small candies and water and a cartoon of smokes before he moved off to Cocoa's pizza across the street to snag a few beers. A few pops could be heard from the inside of the pizzeria as John had cleared the entire place before enjoying a few brew-skis. For John however, a few meant about a case, especially should his past come creeping back to him and it didn't help when he could at night still hear the screaming of soon-to-be-dead survivors begging to God for a second chance only to be snuffed out in the quiet night. He had awoken sometime in the morning and could hear the sound of walking corpses attempting to enter his place of residence. Apparently, one of the coolers had become loud enough to attract a few of them and had a bit of a fight making his way out of the building but had managed to get down the road and onto Creek Road, a windy, wooded road that lead towards Brookhaven and Chester/Toby Farms. He had continued down the street, passing nearby cars for both the rising dead, survivors or even a set of keys for one of the said vehicles and it wasn't until he made it near the Brookhaven Swim club did he come across a Dodge Ram 1500 with in small silver print, the word [i]”[color=silver][b]Hemi[/b][/color]”[/i]. He grinned as he made his way over. A few silent kills, severing the stem from the rest of the body, which he learned over the time was an efficient way to do it, and he had made it to the truck. He looked into the driver side window to see if there was anybody, or anything, in there. Seeing it barren, he then opened his hand to place on the door, slowly closing his hand around the handle to open it with the least amount of noise. With the familiar sound of an unlocked door, he smiled and opened it and placed his gear in the passenger seat but remained with his rifle. John was a patient man in some aspects but when he finally came across a truck that was; 1) not locked, 2) not crawling with corpses and 3) not on fire or damaged, his frustration would raise as he tore the car apart for the keys to it he would curse aloud and slam a fist on the arm rest, causing it to crack. [color=00a651]“Where the fuck-” [/color]He had leaned out the car to check to see if anything was near but jumped and raised his rifle down, firing two shots at a hand under the truck. John positioned himself in a way that would allow him to leap a few feet away from the truck so he could crouch down to see... Nothing...Nothing but a dismembered hand. How did he miss that? A question that he pondered, even though he knew the answer. He needed to stop moving. He need some rest...good rest. But he still brought his sights to the hand. [i][color=00a651]'Nothing attached to the arm......But....wait....no way-” [/color][/i]He smirked at the sight of a set of keys, a key-chain on the set with the words [i]”Dodge”[/i] etched into it. He moved in close to the hand with pistol drawn, just in case his mind deceived him but this time it was to his benefit. He had jumped into the driver's seat, fidgeted with the keys for the moment until he found the right one and placed it into the ignition. Turning it he would see the lights come on, the annoying repetitive beeping sound when someone didn't buckle in. Further he would her the sound of a monster beginning to churn, the sound of that sweet, sweet Hemi. That churning would turn to the roar of the engine coming to life... Anytime now.... Anytime.... [color=00a651]“WHAT THE FUCK MAN GODDAMN PIECE OF- ARRRRRRGGHHH!” [/color] It had no gas. The owner of said hand had forgotten to refill his call before the walkers came. Sadly this cost him, sadly this infuriated John as he got out of the car raging about how [color=00a651]“THAT STUPID FUCK HAD A DAMN TRUCK WITH NO FUCKING GAS!? ARE YOU SHITTING ME? CHRIST ALL FUCKING MIGHTY MAN! SHIT!” [/color]He kicked the truck multiple times, putting some major dents into the side of it. Now he could try to cipher some of the gas from the car that was in front of it but that would take to much time and effort and he didn't have that kind of time. So instead he would continue walking until he reach Brookhaven. From there, he would see what he could do.