Jenna watched the zombies shamble past her on the street towards the radio tower, making sure she didn't move a single muscle. Attracting their attention now would almost certainly be a death sentence. She didn't have many options right now, she couldn't go onto the street, the zombies would definitely see her, and she couldn't exactly go back the way she came either. Staying put was likely only going to get her into more trouble as well; there was no telling how long her chances of not being seen were going to hold. Maybe there was a way into the house she could get into without making much noise. Before she could put that plan into motion though, there was a low moan from behind her. Her head jerked around just in time to see a Zombie making a grab for her.

[b]"God-fucking-dammit..."[/b] She almost growled. She was going to kill that prick that alerted the zombies. She rolled to the left, barely just avoiding being grabbed by the undead creature. Before it could recover, she drew the katana she carried and with her right hand and brought it down on the Zombies neck, almost taking it off in one stroke. It didn't seem to effect the zombie, however, as it lunged at her again. This time it was greeted with a mouthful of iron from her S&W in her left hand. Before it could claw or try to bite her, she pulled the trigger, putting a bullet right in the things head, blood spattering all over her coat. [i]"Damn, this ain't gonna come out at all...[/i]

As she lamented the fact that her fur had just been ruined, it seemed her little scuffle attracted the attention of the rest of the hoard. Yep, if she got out of this alive, that guy on the tower was a dead man. If she did die, She'd come back as a ghost and haunt his ass just to make his life miserable. She took a serious stance and counted the zombies in front of her, calculating her chances.

---

Cristoph took a long drag of his cigarette. The pickup seemed in fairly good condition. The problem was the mass of zombies in the unfinished building next to it. Certainly, he was sure he could get to it from here. Doing it without alerting the horde though, was unlikely. Even if he did, starting up the engine was likely going to attract them. He was taking a gamble anyways, because if it didn't start it'd be pretty much a death trap. Either way, it was a gamble. He doubted he'd make it to the church on foot, since he got pretty lucky earlier, he almost walked right into the horde he had to go around. He sighed and spit out the butt of his cigarette, crushing it under his foot. So much for his last one.

He took his Tomcat in one hand, and made sure he was holding right, and his finger was on the trigger should he need it. Then, he bolted for the Pickup trucks door, hoping that he was fast enough to make it before the inevitable happened, and the zombies started chasing him.