Walking Dead: Requiem

Page One: Disorder
Today will be the day, she tells herself as she watches the fly dance across the ceiling before landing on the wall. The doctors tell her she won't be seeing anyone for a while now, not with the behavioral issues she has displayed in the last few days. The beds brillowed husk digs into her back as the straps securing her make circulation that much harder for her to move. The fly on the wall continues watching her as she does it, waiting for her next move before attempting to land on her face. And when you do get brave enough, you vermin, you will become my snack!

After six months of intensive therapy in a new hospital, Moreene Hindle has found coping to be alot easier in here than at that damned Cahill facility. At least here, the windows are allowed to be open and the orderlies do not use her body as a way of making money from the lesser patients. Though she was reaching fifty, Moreene still had the body of a woman in her prime whose age could not be measured in looks alone. Even after the birth of her son Aaron, she still worked out and kept healthy as long as she possibly could, even when her husband demanded the surgeries. It was insulting to her that she must continue becoming more and more what he wanted her to be and less herself. When Aaron graduated highschool and left for college, her relationship with Nicolaus became more volatile as he no longer had a son to model after himself, though Aaron would always be an individual, something that Moreene was very proud of in her son. Not long after, the real troubles started and Moreene was only able to handle but so much...

The fly on the wall flew away, scared by the noise that suddenly emitted from outside her open door in the hallway. "God dammit!" Moreene cursed. Then there was another noise, this one stronger then the last. Possibly a gurney turning over while transferring one of the more outspoken patients, Moreene couldn't tell. A loud, piercing scream followed what sounded like someone punching a rack of thawed veal, wet and squishy. The scream sounded like Dr Sonai, that African pratt whose only medical training consisted of seperating scalpels for hock-plastic surgeons in LA. Maybe he finally let one of the sodomites get a little too close to him...

The sound of the security alarm wailed throughout the facility, the switch-release doors slamming closed in response to the alarm being triggered. Before it closed, Moreene caught a glimpse of what appeared to be several of the orderlies darting down the hall to reach the end. No, this wasn't some patient escape... this was something bigger. An intrusion most likely. The facility was maximum security, surrounded by a staggering brick wall Moreene would only see for two hours a day while doped out of her mind and escorted by two orderlies and a nurse.

The boisterous wail of glee and madness echoed in the hollow hallways followed only by the painful and terrifying screams of pain and horror, something that made Moreene feel a tad uneasy. The blaring sounds and flashing lights in her room began to give her a mild headache before suddenly, the alarm stopped though the glaring flash of the lights continued. Moreene began to smell what she knew all to well as smoke. Finally, the doors to all of the hall's single-room dorms flew open in unison. The screams stopped, though she could hear the occassional giggle, yelp or actual cry for help outside. Staring at the now open door, Moreene caught a glimpse of something she thought was one of her fellow patients taking the chance to make an ass of themselves. She was wrong however, as this individual was different. Dressed in orderly clothes, the bland white outfits each of them wore, the stocky-built man shuffled his way down the hall and into the dorm across from her. Inside was Morgan Campbell, a young paranoid schitzophrenic whom was begging to the figure she probably saw as Allah to help her. Reality would shake Morgan's core however, as whoever it was began to bury his face into hers, causing the woman to scream in sheer pain. Moreene struggled to see until her sight was blocked by a small horde of more shuffling, moaning people who were seemingly made up of orderlies, doctors, patients and outsiders. Something DEFINITELY wasn't right.

At this instant, Moreene knew that crazy had left the building and something far more sinister and rotten had come in.
 * End Of Page One. To Be Continued.

Page Two: Call
"Wake up cupcake! We gotta call!" Leon shouted from the front. Aaron Hindle checked his watch, the time was eleven thirty-four a.m. He sat up in the back of the EMT, stretching out his stiff bones and muscles after the nap following an exhausting ten hour shift. "What is it this time?" he called back. "Hit and run downtown." Aaron climbed into the cab, shutting the back doors of the vehicle as Leon immediately began to speed out of the hospital parking lot. As they drove past the emergency room section of the lot, Leon noted something about it being crowded which Aaron couldn't quite make out. He began to check the instruments and equipment, hoping that they might have everything they need while listening to Leon and Sherry up front talk about some random bullshit. Aaron knew they had been sleeping together, Sherry being one year ahead of Aaron while Leon was an all-around man whore. However, Aaron loved how the idea that the two would become so awkward while in his presence, as if he didn't know.

"Jesus Christ..." Leon muttered as the EMT arrived in downtown LA shortly before noon, the scene apparently revealing itself to be a nasty one. The street had been barricaded by two police cruisers and the scene was being stared at by your average nosey civilians. Leon and Sherry jumped out quickly as Aaron went back to open the back doors, preparing to help Leon with the gurney while Sherry would talk to the officer first on the scene. As they carried the large grated bed around the truck, Aaron took in what had happened: a car had plowed through four pedestrians crossing the busy downtown intersection before ramming itself into a nearby J-Crews outlet. The injured citizens were moaning in pain, save for two who only layed still. As Sherry talked to the officer who had first arrived, two more were detaining the driver of the car, a man in his late forties who was screaming like an insane person who had known what he was doing. The kind of screaming Jack Ruby must have been shouting after murdering the claimed assassin of John F. Kennedy, Lee Harvey Oswald. This however, was not a scene of retribution, nor was it one of vengence as the layout had been too prominent and the victims too random. No, this was something far more disturbing.

As Leon checked for vitality on one of the less injured victims on a nearby stoop, Aaron checked a young woman whose injuries were minor, considering she might have taken off the drivers side mirror of the car. Seeing the woman was OK and hearing her account of how the mad man seemingly came out of nowhere, Aaron placed a compressed bandage onto her side where the mirror hit her before running to check on another victim. This one, a man in his mid-fifties and wearing a business suit was not moving and made Aaron fear the worst. He checked the mans pulse to find not the slightest sign of life as he looked about the injuries. He spotted the damage made by the sedan as well as something else on the man's leg, something that appeared to be a gunshot injury. As Aaron began to grow more and more concerned, Sherry approached him after the officer ran to help his commrades with the crazed assailant, "Aaron," she began, "this is TOO weird!" Aaron responded, "Tell me about it, This guy is DEAD! And look at---" Sherry interrupted him, unphased by the revelation of this man's mortality "No Aaron, you don't get it! The driver is the city comissioner!"

Aaron stopped what he was doing as he watched the officers tackle the city-elected official into a nearby cruiser, the sounds of the screaming crowds distracting him from his job. What could have made him do this?! he asked himself, terrified of the possible answers. Recently, Aaron had heard of a few incidents like this involving the users of a drug known as PCP and bath-salts, though in those instances it was the more of the street-level citizens than an all-out judge in training.

Before he could contemplate another thought, a dozen piercing screams all at once placed his mind into a seemingly endless void of confusion and shock. A million thoughts overloading at the hands of a million voices, all screaming and coming from those pointing at him. Only when Sherry screamed in a tone that erupted deep from somewhere beyond her lungs did Aaron finally look down and see what would make him scream as well, the seemingly dead businessman's once lifeless face leeched onto Sherry's forearms and ripping away a solid chunk of her tanning bed clad flesh. Almost immediately, Leon was there, stomping in the man's face as a nearby civilian woman pulled away Sherry. Aaron could only watch in terror before he was jerked up by Leon, screaming words at him that Aaron could not yet hear before turning back to Sherry.

All at once, it seemed like the downtown section of Castro became a cesspool of chaos as the uniformed officers disappeared into the crowd. The ringing of their gunshots brought Aaron out of shock as he turned to see the now lifeless Sherry being helped up by Leon. "COME THE FUCK ON AARON!" he shouted, dragging his most recent lover and coworker back to the EMT. Aaron would finally come around and take Sherry by the other arm, helping them to make it back to their truck through a sea of terrified people. "OH FUCK, AARON! BEHIND YOU!" Aaron turned around just to be tackled by the crazed business man, his bloodied face now chomping for Aarons' when suddenly a fist intercepted the man's jaw, sending him back onto the pavement. Aaron turned to see his savior, the now free city commissioner, who would go onto help the EMT's and the woman who had aided Sherry back into the emergency vehicle.

Inside the truck, the hands from hundreds of panicked citizens would begin rocking it too and fro as the commissioner shout for Leon to get them the hell out of the area. As Leon defied this command, instead helping Aaron to place Sherry across the floor, the commissioner proceeded to withdraw a handgun he must have stolen from one of the officer. The fifth passenger, the woman who had dragged Sherry away when Leon was beating on her assailant pleaded with us to obey him, stating, "The man wasn't alive! I'm telling you, he WASN'T!"
 * End Of Page Two. To Be Continued.

Page Three: Solitude
The sounds of undead moans fill the hallways of the Butner Sanitarium, followed by the occassional scream for help or worse.

Moreene Hindle remained in her bed for what seemed like hours, silently listening to the painful deaths of those around her and guttural moans of the hungry intruders. The smell in the air was foul, but she had smelled worse in her time. The smell was overwhelming but it wasn't going to bother Moreene Hindle, not the smell of the blood in the air nor the tangy scent of decay. No, the only thing bothering Moreene was concern for her beloved son Aaron. A very sweet young boy growing up, he was forced to become strong early on and he was more than capable of staying away from dangerous situations. God knows that in their family, he had too or else face the wrath of his father though sometimes it was in brave defiance and sometimes, like with his mother, rage-fueled vengence for the harm he would cause. After Aaron graduated from highschool, he tried his hand in the military while going to school part time. However, the marines were built of a life he could not accept as Aaron was a strong-willed pacifist. If only Moreene would have left Nicolaus when Aaron suggested it, she could know that he was OK right now...

From outside of the room, Moreene heard random noises in the hallway here and there until nothing was heard at all. She would lie quietly, as if she had a choice, and trace her thoughts backward to a time when she was free and happy. A time before AND after the damned marriage to Nicolaus Hindle. A new noise distracted her thoughts and she looked back to the door, watching as a hulking orderly stopped before her. His silhouette made her believe he was alive and checking on her, so she called out, "The FUCK are you looking at?!"

A long, solid moment of tension past until the large figure stepped into the room and was revealed by the infrequent flashing light of the fire alarm to be an orderly she knew as Afran. A usually sweet, tender, teddy-bear of a man inside an imposing African-warrior build, Afran was now a torn and bloodied human being whose face had been peeled in half. Moreene could only watch as he slowly shuffled towards her, his arms reached impossibly far towards her body. She jerked to move, her restraints only getting tighter with each struggling move. As he he grabbed onto her thigh, he prepared to lunge his teeth into her when suddenly he stopped in place following a wet, thrusting sound from behind him. He lingered for a moment before sitting up and staring back into space, falling to the floor with a solid thud. Behind him was another orderly and his best friend, Malik, whom Moreene had some distrust for when she first came to Butner. A well-built Kenya native in his mid-twenties, he had punished Moreene for the beating of a doctor by placing her in isolation only to stand up for her later on as he knew of why she did it.

"Miss Hindle," Malik said to her in his crisp, native tongue, "Are you OK?!"

"What the FUCK does it look like spooky?!?!" She replied angrily, "Your kujo-sized boyfriend there almost KILLED me!! What's going on?!?!"

"The building was invaded by sick people, VERY, very sick people who bite!" he replied.

"No shit, they're hungry!" Moreene interjected as Malik began to undo her straps, "What the hell are you doing?!?"

"Getting you the hell out... I gotta say, of all the people in this ward, I'm happy your alive the most! Now get out of here!"

Moreene sat up, feeling the circulation of her hands coming back to life through her wrists as Malik finished with her ankles. She looked down to see what appeared to be the sharp-end of a broken broom-stick portruding from the back of Afran's skull, quite obviously what saved her life. Malik helped Moreene up and together, the two of them carefully proceeded into the hallway of the C-Level ward. Malik had to cover his nose as they exited her room, whispering to her, "They're drawn to noise! We be quiet, we get to the lounge and barricade ourselves in until help comes!" "What about the rest of the hospital?!" Moreene asked. "They're dead, Miss Hindle, ALL dead!"

Malik helped to carry the still sore body of Moreene through the hallway, each sight more ghastly than the last. It seemed that the entire world was dead, from what Moreene could see by just glancing at the blood-splattered hallways and unrecognizable remains of her former fellow patients and overseers. "Why me?" Moreene began, "I've been nothing but a racist cunt to you and the other homies of this hospital..." Malik hushed her as they reached the end of the cooridoor, sittiing her on the floor before going to take a glance down the next hall. Moreene looked down the way they had come and saw figures beginning to lurch their way in their direction, having given up on what must have been stale prey. As she gave them the finger, she was hoisted up by Malik and rushed the opposite way from the lounge towards the elevators. As they ran, she could see the logic in Malik's change of heart as more lumbering shit-head's began to pace their way for them.

As they reached the elevator, Malik rapidly pressed on the row of buttons as if it would make the doors open any faster. Moreene watched on as a horde of the shithead's slowly marched their way in the direction of the only prey seemingly left in the hospital. If the building had been full of life of any kind before, you definitely couldn't tell anymore. What these things were, they were not human as their distance began to close in by less than twelve yards at this point.

Soon enough however, the elevator doors finally opened and Malik pulled Moreene inside before proceeding to press the door close buttons. As the tall, silvery doors slowly came together, Moreene waved goodbye at the slow walking menaces who despite killing everyone in the hallway, gave her a way out of that damned hospital.
 * End Of Page Three. To Be Continued.

Page Four: Derelict
The gaping streets were filled shoulder to shoulder behind the high-rise parking deck in Central LA, some of the people being terrified citizens while the rest were quite different. Leon steps next Aaron to check on his friend as he leans over the cement wall blocking cars from falling nearly five-hundred feet below. He hocks a loogie into the street, the thick bulb of spittle landing flat in the bald-spot of one of the cannibals. "Damn," Leon started, "fuckwad doesn't even realize he has a loogie on his head..."

In the long and intense three hours it took the ambulance to reach somewhere plausibly safe, the streets having been plagued with chaos every mile of the way. Men and women, children and senior citizens, an indiscriminate flood of panic, violence and horror. In the twenty-five years of his school-to-college-to-work experience, Aaron Hindle has never seen a more evident sign of the apocalypse.

Of the small group who made it into the EMT, Sherry was by far the most painful. The bite she suffered only a few hours ago has already began forming what appears to be some sort of gangreen, or possibly epideral rot... whatever it was, Aaron had never seen such a progressive thing in his entire career. While Leon tended to their coworker and friend, her savior, a girl named Brandi, tried making use of her cell phone.

Commissioner Holland approached Aaron and began popping what appeared to be nitroglycerin pills. He leaned over the wall next to Aaron and began telling his story, "Shit hit the fan in the office this morning... woman comes in with her face missing and just started chomping down on a deputy... a god-damn DEPUTY! I just got the hell out of there and in my car..." His voice flustered under the realization he may have very well killed some people.

"AARON! COME HERE!" Leon yelled out, prompting a very shaken Aaron to slowly make his way over his colleagues. As he stood over Leon and Sherry, he could already tell what was going on as the tears began welling in his eyes. Leon proceeded to grab a blanket from the truck behind him and lay it over Sherry's limp body was slowly cover, tucking it in gently with a soft core of emotion only seen by someone who is truly hurt. Aaron, Holland and Brandi could only watch, the attention of all three settled on Sherry. Only one thought came to Aaron's mind... "I've got to find my wife..."

"Dude, that ain't happening man! You SEE what's going on down there, DON'T YOU?!" Leon's tone became enraged, the stress of the situation cracking into his mind like an eggshell against stone.

"I don't care man, I-- I've gotta go get her."

"Son," Holland interjected, "I've got a family too... wife, kids... all around the place, but getting myself KILLED isn't going to help at all!!"

"He's right Aaron, we need to get out of town and who knows?!!? She may have had the same idea! At least WE have the truck! At least WE have a chance to help people trying to escape this---"

"No, Leon, I can't NOT go. I'm going. That's that."

A moment of silence passed among them as Aaron's words sank into the others thoughts, even Brandi thinking it over to herself.

"I can't go with you buddy, I'm sorry." the sincerity in Leon's next words were almost chilling, "And the truck isn't going either" Here was the badass kid in highschool, the dangerous rebel, who was slowly crumbling under the fear of his own mortality. Aaron was fearful as well, but he felt like he had to do something rather than run like he had for his entire life. Sure, his marriage was failing and he was pretty sure that Autumn had cheated on him... but he took an oath, that for better or worse until death do they part... and this seemed just as good of a time as any to make good on that oath.

Aaron looked around the empty void that was the parking deck, five times the size of any house that he had ever seen in his life. Not seeing anything but the exit to the stairwell, Aaron made his decision and started walking for it.

"I'll wait for two days, Aaron..." Leon called out, hopeful in his words as they entered Aaron's ears. "There's a food shop on the other side where we can get food and supplies, but when we're packed and ready... I'm out."

"I'm going with you..." Brandi stated out of nowhere, getting up and running over to Aaron who had not yet stopped.

As his friend proceeded to exit through a door into the unknown, it became clear to Leon that the next two days were definitely going to be the longest ones in his life.

***

As Brandi followed the selfless young man who had just seen a city official crack, one of his coworkers die and the other turn his back on him due to the obvious risks, she began to see hope out of a seemingly endless void of despair that she herself had inside. They made it two floors down before hearing the groans from all around begin to echo.

Aaron stopped in his tracks, shushing Brandi as he carefully peered down through the stairs to find only emptiness. The distinctly unnerving sound of feet dragging became just as obvious as he backed up to the nearest door. Brandi covered her mouth in desperate terror, not knowing what would happen next while Aaron peeked through the window of the door behind them. What he saw made him feel just as hopeful as the young woman was slowly losing...


 * End Of Page Four. To Be Continued...

Page Five: Remorse
The Best Buy Moreene Hindle and Malik passed by seemed to fill out a more dangerous section of West Village, evident from the carnage that made this area more distatful than the rest. The vicious hordes, boundless and bloodthirsty demons from hell ravage the soil of the earth, tearing the flesh from anyone they come across and all she saw here was looting. In whatever world was soon to follow, Moreene could tell that it wouldn't be any worse than the bullshit world she was already in.

"I'm missing the point Malik..." Moreene spoke aloud to the African driver of the sedan, carefully navigating the lower west-end of LA.

"The point is that these, things, are not of any science. It's impossible to resurrect the dead unless God's hand intervened." His words were shaken, though calm and collective in the whisp of his tone, "The trials and tribulations of humanity come at the time of the Rapture, when the plague of seven years begins with three of those years being a living nightmare... INCLUDING the dead walking the earth!"

Moreene was impressed, for she had once believed that Malik and his fellow tribesman had worshipped a monkey or something.

As Malik's four-door found its way off of the Sunset Boulevard and into a web collected of suburbia, Moreene found herself looking past the bloodshed that spilled the streets all around her and instead seeing her life as it use to be. There was a time she had a family in a house like one of these, complete with a mortgage, dog, swimming pool and trademark soccer-mom van... Dear God, she thought to herself, I wonder what happened to the dog?

The car slowly pulled into the driveway of a beautiful two-story house just outside of town as Malik carefully placed the gear into park. He took a moment to look around, seeing that the chaos had yet to find its way in every nook and cranny of the city. "DAMN child! Is this where you live?!" Moreene asked. "It's where we lived, Miss Hindle" Malik opened the door and carefully climbed out of the car and as Moreene began to follow, the young man turned back to face her, stopping her from moving with a glance. It was only at this point that she noticed he had yet to turn off the engine of the car.

"This is as far as I go, Miss Hindle..." he said with a soft, apathetic tone that made his intentions clear, "I came back to save you and others I felt were safe enough to be freed. Usually that consists of those who were self-admitted, but I was happy enough to see you had somehow survived. You have family, your son... Aaron was it? Your husband..."

A cold, incessant chill coursed its way through her spine at the thought of finding the son of a bitch who put her away all those years ago, freezing her in place as she stared coldly at the orderly. She felt that out of this stare she could easily dig her fingers into Malik's eyes, gouging them out while using her legs to take him down all at once. Out of the anger and the regret she felt however, a shimmer of light did ring true of Malik's statement... Aaron is still alive and she could feel it in her gut like butterflies. "I'm sorry Miss Hindle, I was not thinking..."

"It's OK. What are you saying?"

Malik removed the small assortment of supplies he'd taken from the cafeteria on their way out of the facility, leaving three of the five cans of double-noodle in it's place, "Find your son, Miss Hindle. Find your peace. Mine is with my people."

A tense moment of understanding followed as Moreene carefully slid across from her seat into the drivers side. A sense of morality in Malik's revelation giving her the feeling of not only freedom, but of hope. As she watched Malik smile at her and close the door to the car, she began questioning if she should even be driving a vehicle after all these years, not too mention the fact she was still in her patient garb. No, she would need to change into something more suitable and passable if she planned on getting anywhere.

Regardless, Moreene felt more than comfortable once the car was moving back out into the street. Her memories fleeting throughout her mind like a child riding his bike as she placed the gear into drive and drove on, knowing exactly where she wanted to go.

***

The cold wind whipped through Aaron's hair as he sped through the interstate, the feeling of Brandi's tight and insecure grip around his waist. It was only now that he realized it had been almost six years since he'd last driven his old Suzuki dirt-bike, though the Yamaha R600 their legs were wrapped around was but a quick reminder. If finding the easily manuverable streetbike in the parking garage wasn't lucky enough, then finding it's keys on the dead owner most certainly was... save for it's dead owner.

Initially hesitant, Brandi wore the owners helmet for safety while Aaron felt a chilling calm from the high wind velocity piercing his face like burying one's face into snow. The interstate was in constant panic as citizens of all varieties attempted flooding their way out of the city. There were riots, fights and most of all there were attacks from the cannibals who plagued the said streets of Los Angeles. The motorcycle easily avoided much of the carnage and gridlock, given that they were going against traffic back into downtown.

Aaron's apartment was a little more than fifteen blocks away from the next exit, giving him a sense of hope for his wife Autumn's safety. She would've been out that night after working at the office, mingling at one of the nearby upscale bars with friends... among other singles. Aaron began feeling that Leon was aware of his plight and that was why he tried keeping him from going after her. It was obvious because Leon had been Aaron's best man for the wedding and even then argued it, though the thought of his good buddy getting laid must have prevailed. When was the last time I even wore my ring... Aaron thought coldly.

He whipped the bike back onto the exit, wheeling it down the opposite direction along all of the other vehicles stuck in place. The congruent streets they found himself on slowly began taxing Aaron's hope as the nightmare was getting thicker and thicker than ever as he sped closer and closer to his block. The lower west-end had a sincere plea for help as masses flocked churches, bars and hospitals, some going from one to the next.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Aaron pulled up to the front of his apartment building. The five-floor complex consisting of around sixty units that spaced around a wider spread than it appeared. For the first time since the nightmare had begun, Aaron began feeling a sense of dread as he parked the bike in an alley between the building and a tavern next door. Brandi dismounted, removing the helmet almost at the same time so she could allow her hair to drape past her shoulders once again.

Very carefully, the two survivors made there way to a fire escape hovering ten feet above them, the ladder dangling just out of Aaron's reach.

"Oh no..." said Brandi, softly and sullen as she grabbed for Aaron's arm. The threat was obviously clear as two of the rotting cannibals appeared from the entrance they had just came too. The stench of their decay filled the night air, providing Aaron with the knowledge they had not just been smelling sewage throughout the evening. No... he had smelled this stench on his third call out when he and Leon had answered a call that detailed a shooting. When they arrived on the scene they would learn that the maniac an off-duty officer had killed was a serial killer who'd kept bodies in his crawlspace... the smell being the same as the one he smelled that night when he entered the house with detectives to rescue one of his captured victims. These cannibals might very well be dead, if he didn't know any better.

Almost at once, Aaron responded by running the opposite way down the ally while he grasped onto the young woman's hand. This would prove fruitless however, as more of them began filling the opposite way. How many ARE there?! Not taking time to answer his own question, he looked back to the ladder of the fire escape and formulated a desperate plan.

As the vicious biters began to close in on Aaron and Brandi, instinct took over as the former used what strength he had to lift Brandy upward in his arms as he is forced to hold her buttocks for support. He wasn't as strong as he used to be. Seemingly ignoring this, she would go onto see the idea and reach for the ladder. As he lowered her down she brought the steel ladder down as well, only to be pushed straight back up by Aaron's persistant movement.

Aaron felt the clammy hand of one of the cannibals touch his hand as he waited for Brandi to give him enough room on the ladder to begin climbing. A portly man in his forties, Aaron punched him in the face and watched in horror as his already brittle skull shattered under the force... though not stopping him for a second. Another one reached out and grabbed onto Aaron's shirt, the grasp of the cannibal woman's being stronger than any vice that he could think of, her chomping teeth clicking closer and closer to his face as he used every ounce of strength to hold off the overwhelming horde.

"COME ON!!!" Brandi shouted from above, having made it to the fire escape. In one desperate, selfless manuver, Aaron kicked off the female before turning to climb the ladder as fast as he could as her grip ripped away part of his uniform. As he climbed as fast as he could, the portly man's crushed face found it's way into his leg and Aaron braced for the bite, only to feel it had no affect. The soft tissue of the man's gums rubbed his ankle once before Aaron finally made it out of the ensuing horde's reach just in time.

Using the same leg the "gummer" had just tried gnawing on, Aaron kicked the release back on the ladder causing it to retract as he rolled onto the platform next to Brandi. Just below, she watched as what seemed like dozens of cannibals reaching helplessly for their only chance for a meal. Taking a deep breathe, she looked down at the tired young man's sweaty face as he began to take a deep breath and say to her, "Sorry--- for grabbing--- your ass."
 * End Of Page Five. To Be Continued.

Page Six: Spent Luck
Autumn Tate-Hindle cried into one of the many pillows on her soft memory-foam bed, the tears moistening the fabric as she slid her face over to breathe in fresh air. The feelings she had seemed to be spilling from her every emotion that was initially repressed. As she brought her face back into the pillows damps core where she had printed an outline, she felt the soft, gentle touch of a hand. She had not even noticed someone had entered the room... "Take it easy baby, it's going to be OK."

Autumn tightened back up, her emotions sucking back behind her ego all at once as she slapped away Gary's hand from her shoulder, "The FUCK it will be... and don't touch me like that, you're NOT him!" All at once she lunged from the bed and pushed him aside, pacing straight out of her bedroom and into the front room of her apartment. The twenty-year old Gary had just been shut out once again by the maturirty of this foxy woman.

As he followed Autumn back into the main room of the apartment, he watched as she made herself a highball at the minibar Aaron had built. In the living room were three others who had panicked during the crisis outside and needed somewhere to go. Like Autumn and himself, they were also tennants of the apartment complex and were force to flee from their homes to hers, now watching CNN on Aaron's 40" plasma TV. An elderly couple from 2A and a young skater punk named Jaxin, younger than Gary by almost five years who lived with his father. The luxurious and spacious apartment made everyone elses look shitty, something that Gary attributed to both of it's successful and hardworking owners. Though in the same complex, his was barely half of it's size.

"Got anything to eat legs?" Jaxin asked outloud.

"Hey! Show a little god-damn respect you little punk!" Gary defended. He knew the reference very well, as Autumn was never afraid of showing off her long, lucious legs by regularly wearing daisy-dukes and miniskirts. Only a few hours earlier, Gary had those very legs wrapped around him when the shit started hitting the fan, the elderly couple pleading at the door to be let in as the building was invaded by sick and rotting psychopaths. Gary didn't even want to know what Jaxin's story was, as the teenager was covered in blood that obviously wasn't his.

"Oh, get the hell over yourself asshole! We ALL know she doesn't even really like you!" Jaxin spat back, his anger in check as the others dimmed down... save for Autumn, whose anger got the better of her as she slammed down her drink and stormed into the living room, "Get the FUCK out you little SHIT!"

A tense pause entered the room until the elderly husband, Byron, attempted defending Jaxin, "Now, now, we don't need to be like this---"

"Shut up old man," Autumn began with a loathing spat in her tone, "you want to protect him, you go with, him!"

Byron conceded into his fears as he held closely onto his wife Tess, who was just as scared as he was.

"Whatever you upscale fucking slut, wait until one of y'all turns and then wish someone was around who had the rocks to do something about it." After the angry and blatant statement, Jaxin stormed up and grabbed his equally bloodied skateboard as he headed for the front door. "Now, hold on a fucking second," Gary began boldly, "what the fuck are you talking about?"

Jaxin took a deep breathe as he looked down at the marble floor, sadly realizing just what he had done though tried his best to not show the fear he now carries, "Dad came home. Got bit by one of those faggots out there... before I'd left to get up here where it's, nice and high as hell, he turned."

"You say, turned? That's where you lose me..." Gary replied.

"Turned. As in, from who he was into one of them."

The cold chill returned to Autumns body as she took another swallow of the drink she had made, finishing it before biting into the ice that remained. She felt her filling respond to the cold chunks but ignored the pain, trying to negotiate what to do. On the one hand, she could send ALL of them out and plan what to do next... which probably consisted of drinking more, crying and then taking to her infamous pill collection under the sink of the bathroom. However, she did feel like she owed it to herself to see where this plague of sorts was going before doing anything rash. The news said there was an outbreak of something on the south-eastern part of the country but not a word of the issues they were experiencing. Maybe things will work themself out, she thought to herself.

Having calmed down, Autumn turned to her group of neighbors, "You can stay. Sorry for being a bitch, but please understand... I'm under a lot of stress. Aaron's out there somewhere, the streets are filled with, how did you put it? Them? And I'm left here trying to figure it all out."

Suddenly, a woman's scream filled the outer corridor of the complex outside. Byron jumped for the remote and turned the mute on, pausing the sound from the TV. Jaxin carefully backed away from the front door, rearing back his skateboard like a club as the elderly couple stood arm in arm, praying silently. Autumn felt Gary's warm hand hold onto hers, though she felt like pushing it away again she found herself unable to move at all. As they all waited for a follow up to the scream,

***

Aaron used the fire-axe's tipped point to find the back of the vicious cannibal ontop of Brandi, whose only hope was holding its chomping teeth by pushing its forehead back. The axe found its mark and did no good, not even slowing down the middle-aged tennant whose sould was apparently lost to the plague that has engulfed LA. However, Aaron was able to pull the man off of Brandi using the axe as a hook until he forced it back out while Brandi rolled away screaming. He helped her up and together, they ran out of the second-floor apartment into the outer corridor that surrounded the apartment complexes beautiful courtyard.

It seemed that the gated door to the building has been working against those inside, instead of keeping out the cannibals on the street it kept in those locked inside of it. However, most of the ones Aaron saw were people he knew... an oriental family whose breadwinner was a movie producer, a few corporate families and Mister Duncan the magician being among them. A nearest was a small group seemed to have found a feast as they ate into the body of a German Shepherd belonging to the producer's family, distracting them from noticing Aaron leading Brandi down the opposite way towards the staircase leading upstairs.

Never in his life did Aaron see this coming... choosing to rescue his wife from an army of monstrous cannibals instead of going through two years of divorce that seemed inevitable. While his best friend and coworker Leon awaited his return, he would be risking his life and the life of a porn starlett who'd be next years most recognized actress. Before entering the nearest apartment from the fire escape, Brandi told him that the life she has was replaced with the life she deserved, a statement Aaron called bullshit on since everyone else was involved. In the land of dead people walking, no one person is to blame.

Crossing over to the next two floors was very easy as the biters were not even that far along, not surprising to Aaron who knew that the country's economy was keeping more and more tennants from renting the upscale apartments of the complex. Aaron and Autumn only made it work because of the work they both put into it, long, hard hours of night-ended shifts compiled with the double life that Aaron so eagerly hides from the world. It was all about the money to him, keeping what he had safe and protected from the vicious world outside which has since become one of pure insanity... Mom...

"Are we almost there?" Brandi whispered to Aaron, breaking his last thought of concern, "I mean, which one is yours?"

"On this hallway." Aaron lead Brandi down the hall of the top floor, both now comfortable enough to keep from crouching though the sounds of the hordes below echoed throughout the courtyard. Confident at this point, Aaron began smiling as they approached the front door of his apartment while fishing into his pocket for his keys. As they passed the door to the apartment that was two away from his own, Aaron noticed it was open and glanced inside to meet the eyes of its tennant, Vincent Sinclair, who tackled him into the cobalt guard railing of the corridor. Instinctively bringing back the axe, Aaron thrust the business end into Brandi's arm causing the young woman to scream out in pain. She dropped to the ground, clutching the bloody injury that he had just created, distracting him long enough for the cannibalistic neighbor to send both himself and Aaron over the rail.

Aaron dropped the axe before falling over with Sinclair, the latter sailing off onto the pavement below as Aaron managed to grab onto the railing for dear life. The hordes below began swarming around Sinclair who would miraculously rise as well and reach upward for the dangling Aaron. He glanced over to notice some of the smarter cannibals were going for the stairwell and it would be only a matter of time before they reached Brandi, still crying on the floor from her disastrous injury.

One floor below, biters began reaching out and pulling on his pant legs in an effort to reach him as he feebly attempted kicking them away. In that one instance... Aaron Hindle knew what was going to happen. He thought of all the things he wished he had told those he loved... his understanding of his mothers actions against the woman who stole her husband... his double life that further pushed him away from his wife... his sincere apology to Brandi for slicing into her arm instead of trying to make her stay with Leon... all at once, he began to give in and simply fall to his death in an attempt to allow the young woman he'd nearly killed an attempt at surviving by sacrificing himself to the biters. Those god damn, no good fucking... biters...

Aaron felt the warmth of a hand grab his own as he proceeded to let go of the railing. Looking up, he saw Brandi reaching for him with not one but both hands, the look of agony intense across her face, "COME ON!!!"

He began using all of his strength to slowly pull himself up, rung by rung until his feet found the cement floor of the corridoor. He hoisted his leg over it and fell onto Brandi, causing her even further pain.

"I'm so sorry... I'm so fucking sorry..." he began. Through all of the and all of aching her body felt, Brandi looked into Aaron's eyes before saying, "Yeah, yeah, this actually deserved an apology..." There eyes met with a glimmer of interest, empowered by the hope that things might very well work out. As he started to regain his thoughts and his breath, he looked to injury. Though shallow and a flesh wound, it was definitely causing her alot of pain but she would be OK once he reached his medical bag in the...

"Aaron?" she spoke.

Aaron looked for the voice that used his name to find that Autumn was standing in the hallway outside of their door along with two others from the apartment. A young kid named Jaxin who had his skateboard reared back and ready for action, and Gary, the twenty-something that Aaron was positive Autumn had slept with. Her eyes were wide with a mix of horror and rage, something Aaron had not seen in a long time though her tone was something he was all too familiar with. The sight of Aaron's head in Brandi's lap must've really pissed her off.

"Hey honey... are you OK?"

***

Moreene stared down at the body of the man she had married, dangling from a rope attached to the beams next to the body of a young woman he was undoubtably living with. They died together it appeared, having hanged themselves in an attempt to escape from the horrors they could not handle. She thought to herself, Sack of shit probably knew I would get out and talked this one into killing herself to avoid me killing her too. Finding herself perplexed at the strained face left on her ex husband, she realized that it resembled the angry one he had while trying to argue with her after she had caught him in the act. A pudgy, puffy, pug-like face that only made her want to laugh but only allowed her to cry.

She had packed her bags with things he hadn't thrown away, changed into some decent clothes, stole his high-grade scattergun and was ready to ship out though seeing this only made her want to continue staring.

"Four years now... four years, I dreamed of how you'd look when you were dead. Playboy extrodinarre and closet-pedophile, Nick Hindle, dead at the hands of the long-suffering mother of his child. Nancy Grace would've loved it." she spoke to his dead face, "But I never wanted you dead... someone HAD to be here for Aaron. Like you ever cared when our son moved on and away from us, being too old and such for your love... did you even try to call him? See if he was OK? I will. For all of---"

Her words were cut short as she watched Nick slowly begin twitching, as if trying to respond to her words. She continued staring forward until suddenly and seemingly out of nowhere, his cold and shoddy hand reached out for her. Moreene backed away in confusion, trying to tell if he was alive or if he was dead. Whatever the cause, he was trying his best now to reach for her. His eyes puffed out of the sockets and his lips displaced by his portruding tongue, he was dead by all means but was still moving, still trying too... grab her. Eat her. He was one of them. One of the foul smelling ghouls who Malik had all but told her were the walking dead. Something uneasy passed through her gut as she watched this monstrocity of realization occur before her when suddenly, it turned into glee. The dead woman hanging next to him had began to move as well, though much slower than Nicolaus.

Moreene turned to her bag behind her and picked up the 12-gauge double-barrel she had stolen from his mantle. Loaded with two buckshot rounds, the aimed it right at Nicolaus' forehead before cocking back the hammer. Ignoring the weapon, Nicolaus continued only reaching and grabbing for her as she slowly began to smile.

"Tonight, Nicolaus... we are complete. First you. Then her. Tonight, Nicolaus, you will rest in pieces. Then, I will find our son and make things right by us all." Moreene said to his undead body before pulling the trigger, laughing as she did so.


 * End Of Page Six. To Be Continued.

Page Seven: Reunion
''The end of days at long last has finally reached our world. God has chosen you and me, along with the rest of the entire world to witness these trials and tribulations. It may not be what anyone of us has come to expect, us church going folk and disciples of the Lord's name... no. This is HIS plan... HIS choice and HIS calling to us, as his children in order to provide our very reason of living an answer. But the answer is not what we wanted, nor what we expected. On that note, who are WE to expect ANYTHING from him?! His dominion over us is only that of the creator, whom intervenes when he truly finds it necessary. At this point, my brothers and sisters, it is very clear that this plague is in fact the answer we have seeked for so long as God himself has found it necessary, to test our faith... ''