The date is 3/242300, the time is 8:00 AM

Nobody knows where the plague came from. It's some sort of nano-technology of highly unusual design. 150 years ago, it began to turn the masses into undead hordes.
Some places fell almost immediately. Some took over a century to fall. This is Icarus City, Texas. It fell just 2 years ago. It's now a rusting jungle of twisted steel and concrete. Many people have turned to looting and crime in order to get what they want. It's a white line nightmare. However, some manage to eek out a semi-honest living in encampments in the city.

Lewis was inspecting the fence. A section of the wooden fence had finally given way. Previously, it had kept the shamblers out, but today one of the zombies had managed to bust it down. He sighed. Time management was very important now a days. He found that there simply wasn't enough time to get food, get water, repair reinforcements and find ammo. And if he didn't do all of those things, he'd be royally screwed.

Still, he had to stay here. There was still food and water here, and he simply did not have the ability to carry it all with him. He needed a home base. Besides, you do not want to be outdoors at night.

Kylie's 'bed' was virtually invisible. Even if raiders had come to search the truck for equipment, there was a good chance they may have skimmed right past the bundle of dirt-smeared blankets in the passenger side foot-well. Age taken into consideration, Kylie was still small, and took up very little space. It wasn't until the bundle of blankets moved that anyone would guess there was a girl curled up beneath them.

With a yawn, Kylie sat up. She disentangled herself from the blankets, climbing up onto the passenger seat and looking out the window. The truck was parked on a cracked cement pad, accompanied by a handful of other vehicles. All were in various states of disrepair, and a nearby building proclaimed itself to be an auto repair shop. Farther into the distance was a large junkyard. Ruined buildings beyond that. Kylie looked sadly in the building's direction. It was the very same repair shop where the attack a few weeks ago had separated her from her sister. She returned here as often as she could, hoping that Jean would show up. With a quiet sigh, the girl folded up one of the blankets and stuffed it into her monster-shaped backpack. The only other object inside was a package of instant noodles. A moment later, she had left the truck and started walking.

---

"Jean!"

Kylie's small voice carried across the wasted landscape of the city. It was quiet, with few people around, but she still moved cautiously. There was no telling when a horde may come out of nowhere. "Jeeeeean!"

This was how she spent most of her days now. Wandering the area around the repair shop, calling out for her older sister. Her journey today brought her to the edge of the nearby junkyard. Kylie stepped over the ruined scraps of metal, and slowly began climbing a mountain of scrap and trash to get a better view. A few times, she nearly stumbled. But she was nimble, and reached the top quickly. Standing on an old tire at the pinnacle of the mountain, she cupped her hands around her mouth to shout again. "Jeeaaan!"

Near Kylie, in an open door in a shadowy building, two glowing eyes can be seen. And then two more sets of glowing eyes appear. They do not exit the door, however. The sun has proven thus far to be the most effective deterrent against the undead, and they rarely left the safety of the shadows.

Three raiders are sitting next to each other at a camp. One of them is sharpening a cleaver when they hear a little girl shout "JEAN!!"

They look to each other, and then one of them says "Is that little girl going off again?"
Another says "Yeah. It's driving me nuts. How about we make her shut up?"

The other two raiders chuckle.
"I'm serious."

They stare at him awkwardly a moment, and stop laughing.
The one sharpening the cleaver says "Well, I'm going to go see if I can steal some coffee."
The third one stands up and says "Yeah, uh...I'll go with him. Why don't you stay here and guard the camp?"

They both leave, leaving the one who suggested harming the child alone. He shouts "Fuck! You!" at the top of his lungs and then sighs. He takes a few painkillers.

"Jeeaaan!"

Mileficent grumbled upon being awakened by a little girl's voice. She had been sleeping in the trunk of a rusted and bashed car, the only thing she could find that could suitably hide her and give her a little security. The only thing she had with her was her switchblade and handgun. She knew that the handgun wouldn't last long, but it was good for intimidation when facing bandits. Mileficent's eyes slowly pried open and she yawned.

'Who the hell is-'

"Jeeaaan!"

Mileficent's thoughts stopped and her eyes bugged out the instant she heard the girl's voice again. Eventhough she was a criminal she still had a small soft spot for kids, not to mention the fact that noise attracted both wanted and unwanted attention. Mileficent put her boot up against the top of the trunk and pushed it open.

CrRrRrEeEeEeAaAaAaKk

She winced at the loud noise it made as she pushed it further. Mileficent then crawled out and stretched, trying to get the kinks out of her legs, being tall and sleeping in a trunk wasn't really the best combination. She glanced around and looked up at the kid standing ontop of a tire on a pile of scrap.

"Hey kid!"

Mileficent shouted and waved her arm trying to get her attention.

"What the hell are you doing up there?!"

Kylie stayed silent a while, hoping beyond all rational levels of hope that she would hear her sister's voice call back. She was answered by nothing, save for someone swearing loudly in the distance, and the loud creak of rusty metal grating against itself. Ignoring both of the noises, she cupped her hands around her mouth to yell once more. The second she opened her mouth, a yell cut her off. "Hey kid! What the hell are you doing up there?!"

She jumped, nearly stumbling off the top of the mountain of junk, but managing to catch herself. Turning around, arms now held out for balance, she saw a woman standing at the bottom of the pile, waving her arms to catch Kylie's attention. The young girl looked down at her, hesitating for a moment.

Maybe she could help.

Kylie quickly started to descend the scrap heap once more. She moved slowly, baseball bat held in one hand, the other grabbing onto pieces of metal for balance. "I'm looking," she explained as she made her way down. "For my sister."

Reaching the bottom of the pile, she turned to face the woman standing there. Immediately, Kylie's confidence faltered. From a distance, she'd looked all right. But up close, she was downright intimidating. Kylie stared at her strange hair and dark clothes for a second, seemingly having forgotten what she was going to say. "Um. She's a few years older than me. And her name's Jean. She's got a blue t-shirt and a black backpack," Kylie recited. She shrugged her own backpack off of her shoulders. It was childish, a plush monster with arms and legs affixed to the body. "Not like mine. Hers is a real backpack."

Max crept through the house, flashlight darting back and forth along the walls. He had learned the hard way to always check every corner of a house for Zed before you searched it.

He heard a sound in the distance, a high pitched call. Perhaps a name of somebody - living or dead, Max didn't know. What he did know was it was never a good idea to just call out like that. The city might've looked dead but it was very much alive. Whoever did that shout was just asking for trouble. Max figured after he was finished up here, he would head in that direction and see if he could figure out what was going on over there.

Whatever, the house was clear and Max started searching for supplies. The door to this building was locked tight, always a good sign when you're looting. His haul consisted of several tin cans and a single battery. Not exactly the jackpot, but it was better than coming up empty handed.

Max shut the door behind him, hoisted his axe over his shoulder, and walked quietly down the street, curious about who was calling attention to themselves, blissfully unaware that he had just robbed somebody blind.

Mackenzie hefted her backpack, taking a moment to appreciate the reassuring clack of the few cans it contained and the friendly midmorning sun that kept the zombies off the streets. She continued up the deserted street, her pace relaxed but her gaze continually roving across shop fronts, alleyways, and rooftops, squinting as she walked towards the sun. During the day, it was your fellow humans you had to watch out for; depending on who you met, you might be in for more trouble than you'd find with the zombies. She attempted to keep an ear out for suspicious sounds, but the tinnitus always made that difficult. eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee....... She swore softly to herself, half out of frustration, half just to pass the time; cursing was an art in which all tradesmen were quite skilled.

Her trusty spear served as a pretty good walking stick, its leather-wrapped end softly saying tung, tung, tung as she progressed up the street. Up ahead a decrepit spire distinguished itself from the surrounding flat brick and shingling: a church? As she approached, she remarked that the building itself, while obviously falling apart, had a reasonably well-kept fence around it. Upkeep meant inhabitants, which might mean trouble. She was about to double back when she locked eyes with a young man who appeared to be inspecting the fence. Shit.

She couldn't see very much of him, just what was visible through the fence. Since he'd already seen her, though, Mackenzie figured she might as well test the waters. And a fenced-off church was more easily fortifiable than most of the buildings she'd seen on her trek today... She nodded at the man. "You look like you could use some help with that fence."

Lewis was startled when he saw another human being, however, when she spoke, she mentioned that he might need help with that fence. Lewis said "Er...yes. I do."
He starts to hammer away at it some more. "Would you like to help?" he asks.

"You got another hammer?" she asked, inspecting the fence section Lewis was working on. Ideas began to swirl through her head: there was a good bit of sheet metal back at the shop, and probably some acetylene torches... no barbed wire, but that was easy enough to make... of course, retrieving any of it depended on whether or not zombies had taken up residence back there.

Recovering from the reverie, she stuck out her hand. "Mackenzie Stuart."

Sweat beaded down her forehead and slid down the side of her freckled filled face, trailing down her neck. She was thirsty and tired. The noises would keep her up all night and if it wasn't the zombies it was the people she found lurking around. To think, times like these all people do is take and kill...well Gill couldn't blame them, hell she would have done the same thing if it wasn't for the fear of losing whatever sanity she had left. To survive you had to take care of yourself and that was something Gill lacked in that way of thinking. It might have just been the doctor in her but whenever people were hurt or needed help she would go to their aide in an instant. Sometimes in her travels that almost cost her her life. But somehow she was lucky enough to get out. Stopping she looked around, wondering if anyone was around her. She needed water, her throat was dry and each time she licked her lips she could feel how they began to chap.
"Ah Jaysus, oi nade ter git sum water before oi pass oyt." she whispered to herself, wiping the sweat from her forehead.
As she continued to walk she saw a man. A tall fellow with dark messy hair. She was about to call out but knew better than to do that, especially if the man was armed. Instead she followed. He had to be going to shelter, and shelter meant food and water. There she could strike a deal, who didn't like doctors right?

Lewis hands her a rubber mallet. He shrugs "Best thing I could find, unfortunately."
He sighs and gets back to work. He shakes her hand and says "Detective Lewis Smith."
He is about to finish, when he hears someone yell out "JEAN!!"
He just barely hears it. He says "Did...you hear that?"

Mileficent watched as the kid slowly climbed down the pile, flinching a bit when she saw her slip a few times.

"I'm looking for my sister."

Mileficent let out a silent sigh once she heard the kid say that she was looking for a sibling, it was tragic when a kid still had faith when the evidence clearly points out that the sibling is dead. She watched as the kid's confidence suddenly faltered once she got a look at what she looked like, but Mileficent was used to this reaction. Being a criminal and not exactly normal looking.

"Um. She's a few years older than me. And her name's Jean. She's got a blue t-shirt and a black backpack. Not like mine. Hers is a real backpack."

Mileficent glanced at the kid's backpack when she dropped it onto the ground. It was small, and it didn't look like it had much in it.

'Poor child...'

She thought as she looked back at the kid.

"Well I haven't seen her so far. The only people I've seen have been bandits and such."

Mileficent said and crossed her arms, thinking to herself. This was a kid with nothing. No one to protect her, nothing to really defend herself with other than a bat that would probably break sooner or later, and she was an easy target due to the fact that she was shouting all the time. Sure, Mileficent was a criminal with no real respect for mankind, but she still had a protectiveness over kids. Mileficent sighed,

"Look kid, I can help you find your sister. You need someone to protect you and yes, I can see that you have a bat, but still."

She paused for a second.

"Oh and you have to STOP shouting for her. It attracts things you don't want to see. We can find her while still being quiet, okay?"

Together they repaired the fence, the familiar din of the mallets thankfully drowning out the perennial tinnitus. They had almost reattached the last splintered section when Lewis asked if Mackenzie had heard something.

Immediately she dropped the mallet, hands automatically finding the familiar leather grip of the spear, yanking it from where she had thrust it vertically into the withered grass. She perked up her ears for any extant sound but all she could hear was that godforsaken eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, and the silence of the deserted street. "I didn't hear anything, but the way my hearing's gone that doesn't mean much. What was it?" she asked, speaking in a low voice. It wouldn't be zombies in the daytime... raiders? Some new abomination created by the virus? She took a few steps back from the fence, cursing herself for giving up on martial arts all those years ago.

Max continued down the street, bypassing the occasional chunk of cement or twisted metal. He grew more and more cautious with each step, as moving out in the open like this would no doubt attract attention from any onlookers. The shadows in the alleyways and side streets were mysterious and foreboding enough to keep anybody on their toes. Even after living in the city for so long, Max wasn't entirely used to the many sounds which crept out from the streets. They scared him, but he was also very curious as to their source. It is for this reason that Max continued walking to where he thought that scream originated.

He crossed an intersection, and thought to himself that however many years ago, one looked both ways before crossing the street. He smiled, closed his eyes, and walked blindly into the middle of the street. He felt as though he could hear something behind him, but opening his eyes and turning around, he saw nothing.

Gillian pressed her back against the wall. She would stay close to the buildings that were safely apart and away from the dark corners that could have something waiting to grab and drag into the further darkness. Peeking over her head popped from the corner of the building. Once he continued to walk she followed the man, wondering where he was heading off to.
It was funny how voices could travel in an empty city. The city's buildings causing voices to jump off and echo. In the air she could hear faint voices and wondered if the man she was following was heading that way. Maybe this man was a part of a group. Hopefully she could appear to them and be able to make a peaceful bargain.

Kylie watched Mileficent warily as she spoke, her grip still on the baseball bat in her hand. However, as soon as the woman mentioned being able to help her find Jean, the girl’s face broke into a smile. As she continued to talk, the delighted grin only grew wider. "Thank you!" she blurted out, even as the woman was finishing speaking.

She’d lost count by now of how many days she had been looking. There had been close run-ins before now. If Kylie stayed out too late with her searches, that was when the zombies came out. If she trespassed on the territory of the wrong band of raiders, there had been times when she’d had to make a quick sprint in the opposite direction. So long as she had always returned to the floor-well of the truck where she slept before nightfall, issues had been minimal.

But here was someone who was offering help. Even if Kylie knew how to handle herself, she could only achieve that for so long. She nodded quickly. “Okay. I can be quiet, I promise," she agreed without hesitation. She picked up her backpack, swinging the monster over her shoulder once more. "My name's Kylie."

"Mkay. I'm Mileficent."

Mileficent said with a small smile. She had to find a suitable place for the kid to rest since they were going to be together for a while. She had heard of a church that was a nice safe haven but to her dismay it was inhabited by a cop. Cops and criminals DON'T mix. And Mileficent was one. But if she was going to help Kylie out, she needed them both to be well rested. Plus sooner or later Mileficent was going to need to scavenge for food to feed them, and bringing Kylie along wouldn't be a good thing if she happened to run into a small horde or a group of bandits.

"Okay, we need to find a place that's safe for both of us. I've heard of a church that is suitable, but its inhabited by a cop. And.. well..."

She shifted nervously,

"Me and cops don't reeaaallyy... mix. We don't get along much. But you need a better place to rest that has more security than where ever you were sleeping before."

Mileficent thought for a moment. Kylie was a kid. Kids are seen as innocent. Maybe she could use that to her advantage.

"Do you think you could persuade the cop into letting us stay? I'm pretty sure no one can say 'no' to an adorable kid like you."

She said with a playful tone in her voice and ruffled Kylie's hair laughing a bit.

Lewis says "I thought I heard somebody shout out a name...maybe it was nothing..."
He walks over to another table and lays out a map and a few pieces of paper. He glances it over a little. "I'm just going to check some things off. One second..."

Kylie quickly covered her head with her hands as her hair was ruffled, grinning as she smoothed her bangs down again. She'd actually managed to get her pigtails even that morning, but they were now slightly askew. The girl didn't seem to notice. As soon as her bangs were straight, she was satisfied. "I can probably do that. Cops are nice. My mum worked with cops a lot," Kylie answered. "She was a security guard."

The slightest hint of sadness crossed her face for a moment, thinking about her parents. She missed them. Had missed them every day since they'd gotten sick. However, the sadness vanished after a second, as the young girl remembered that her sister was still out there somewhere. And now, she had someone to help her search.

"I think I walked by the church yesterday. It's that way, right?" she asked, pointing in the opposite direction she'd walked from.

Eventually as Max walked, he arrived on a street with a church on it. He knew of the church's existence, as he had passed it many times, never going in. He wasn't religious, but it just felt wrong to loot a church.

What he wasn't aware of was that the church now had occupants, and so he continued his stroll until he was close enough to realize that there were two people there working on fortifications. Unsure of their intentions, he dove (rather clumsily) behind a nearby piece of debris that was just barely large enough to hide behind. He had attempted to be stealthy about it, but the "THUNK" of his weight hitting the ground didn't help him all that much.