Vehicles in varying states of disrepair and damage littered the roads of Atlanta, it had been one of the first major cities to succumb to the plague that resulted in the end of the world as they knew it. It didn’t matter though, those who had survived the plague, the fall of modern civilization and the zombies who now roamed around looking for their next meal were more than capable of navigating the streets – provided they were careful. Just because there had not been zombies in the area yesterday didn’t mean there weren’t any there today – it was a lesson the Faction had learned the hard way, with the loss of some of their own. 

Rick Steele was not in the habit of losing people, he still had the military mindset of “no man left behind.” He had been a US Army Ranger before the outbreak. It was true, he had often risked his own life to go back for one of the Faction’s members who had been cut off from the rest of the group and would otherwise have been eaten or worse, taken captive by the Conclave.

The Faction and the Conclave were always fighting for control of the Atlanta area. Rick didn’t care about “territory” like the Conclave did but he did care about keeping people safe. He had lost his family during the outbreak and he wanted to make sure no one else went through that same hell, though he knew he couldn’t save them all.

Today was an uncharacteristically sunny day, if not for the grime of the apocalypse covering everything one would have thought it was a normal spring day. Rick would have brought his daughter to the park on a day like this, she was only three when the outbreak occurred. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, he needed to focus on the situation at hand. He and a squad of Faction members were scouting the area for food, they were in a part of the city that hadn’t been explored yet so they weren’t sure what to expect.

They were slowly clearing an abandoned gas station, with any luck not only would there be food but fuel and other supplies as this part of the city had been overrun with zombies until recently when the faction started systematically clearing them out of the city. Rick had his M-4 strapped over his shoulder and pointed in front of him.

[color=556B2F]“Knock it off,”[/color] he barked in a low whisper when someone started loudly opening a bag of chips.

Everyone stopped when they heard a muffled sound from the back storage area. Rick made the hand motions for everyone to get into position to cover every angle of the door he was about to open. He said a silent prayer before kicking the door in.