Rebecca:
My eyes blink open as I yawn and stretch my arms. I want to rub my eyes but I forget I'm wearing a gas mask so I accidentally hit myself in the air.
"Ahh," I say after hitting myself. I instead shake my head. "Fuck."
Once fully awake, I look around and see Bailey still sleeping on the ground. She's sleeping near the extinguished fire, the fire nothing more than a pile of charcoal papers and a fainted trail of rising smoke.
"Hey," I say as I push myself off the cold tiled floor. "Where the hell is Drifter?"
I turn my head left and right but don't see the bastard anywhere. The only ones in the storage room are Bailey and me.
"Hey Bailey," I say, dropping to my knee and shaking the girl. "Wake up. Come on. Get up."
"What," Bailey says, pushing herself up. She yawns and clears her throat and also hit herself in the head. "What? What is going on? Is it infected?"
Bailey grabs her baseball and looks
Tristan: I watch with the rock ready in hand. The shadow in the red mist is huge, and it seems to be growling. It moves fast, running and disappearing before somehow reappearing behind us. "What is that," the kid shouts. I look around, trying to keep my eyes on the shadow but, somehow, it's like it knows it's being watched and is disappearing into the mist on purpose. "Wait for it," I say, holding out my hand. "Wait for what," Rebecca asks, her shaking body turning left and right as the growls come from all over. "Wait for it," I repeat. "Wait for it!" I hear the sound of squashing mud from the side and turn. I see the shadow emerges from the red mist. A large, grey wolf with bloody cuts and open wounds leaps out. The wolf shows off its sharp yellow teeth as it growls. I scream as I charge toward the infected wolf. I slam the rock against the side of the infected wolf's face, knocking it to the forest f
Marcus Fellow: As I run, I look down the sight on the top of my assault rifle. The second the infected wolves are in my sight, I squeeze the trigger and shoot it. The wolf whines as it falls to the side. "Get him to his feet," I yell, pointing at the man as I run past him. Two of my soldiers help the man to his feet while the rest of my squad follow after me. As the wolves charge and jump at the mother and her child, I wave my fingers, giving the order. "Engage! Engage! Engage!" My soldiers and I light up the sky with flashes of light. Our rifles scream louder than any thunderstorm. By the time we're done, the forest is a mess of dead infected wolves. However, despite how many dead dogs there are, I know we're still not safe. I keep an eye out as I approach the two. "Easy," the mother says as I walk up to them, pointing my rifle at them. "Easy." "Are you friendly," I ask. "Are you friendly? Answer the question!" "We're friendly," the kid replies, holding up both her hands. "We'
Bailey: "Wow," I say after walking through the steel door and seeing the bunker. "This isn't much." The bunker is smaller than the one in Boston and with fewer lights. All of the buildings I can see aren't much more than makeshift tents, put mostly together with what looks like rope and sheet metals. It doesn't have metal walls. In fact, it doesn't have any walls at all. I can see the exposed dirt. As soon as I said those words, I feel a slap on the back of my head. While rubbing my head, I turn around to see Rebecca glaring at me with red eyes. "Sorry," I say, lowering my head. Tristan, Rebecca, and I turn around when we hear a grinding sound. We see two of the soldiers closing the steel door. With the door close, the soldiers around us take off their gas masks, revealing their sweaty, dirt-covered faces. "So now what," I ask, taking off my own mask. "You three will have to come with us," Marcus answers. He shakes his
Rebecca: "Hey," I shout, running after the little son of a bitch. The second the kid hears me, he starts to run. "You! Give me back those ration cards!" The kid speeds up as we run through the marketplace. For once, I'm glad it's a slow day. It means there aren't any people to block me as I chase after the little thief. "Get back here," I shout as I pick up speed and close the distance between the two of us. "Get back here now!' Reaching out, about to grab the damn kid, he takes a sudden, sharp left turn. As he's turning, I lunge for him but miss and end up rolling onto the floor. "Rebecca," Bailey says as she runs to help me up. "Are you okay?" "I'm fine," I answer, shaking some dirt from my hair. I look at the pathway the kid disappears down. I push myself up and run to it. "Must be my lucky day," I say as I look down a narrow alleyway. The narrow alleyway leads to a trash-covered dead-end, and there, at the
Tristan: “What do infected wolves have to do with low supplies,” Bailey asks. “About six months ago,” Marcus starts, “The infected wolves got into the bunker. They somehow dug a way down until they found a pipeline. Breaking through the pipelines, the infected wolves found their way into the bunker.” “Damn,” I say. “That’s taking it lightly,” Jacob comments from the side with crossed arms. “It was late at night when those fucking wolves attacked. Half of us were asleep when they did. They slaughter dozens of us before the first shot was even fired. By the time all of us were awake, they had taken over most of the bunkers. To save what few of us were still alive, the military used explosives to seal off whole sections of the bunker.” "I guess that’s why this bunker is smaller than the other ones I’ve seen." I look toward the tiny city. “A few of the sections we had to give up were the cafeteria, the water filtering plant, and the first motor pool," Marcus says. He looks toward t
Tristan: "I can't believe this bunker had a garden," Bailey says. "I mean, an actual garden. Even we Rebels didn't have a garden." "I know," Rebecca says. "A garden. Fresh vegetables. Like, actual fresh vegetable carrots and potatoes. It's a dream." "Too much trouble," I say. I stop when I come to the end of the tunnel. Seeing the rusted ladder in front of me, I look up and see the manhole cover. "I don't hear any scratching. The wolves must have left." "Hopefully they're on the other side of the park," Rebecca says. I hold out my hand, about to grab the ladder but stop. There's still blood on the ladder. It's still dripping. Pulling my hand back, I reach into my pack and pull out an old rag. I wipe the blood on the ladder before throwing the bloody rag back into my pack. With the ladder cleaned, I grab and climb it up. Rebecca and Bailey follow me up the ladder. Once I reach the top, I place my ear against the manhole cover. I still don't hear anything. I look down at the two a
Tristan: Chris's body, at least what the infected wolves didn't chew off, is sitting against one of the walls of the ranger station. His chest is ripped open and so is his head. His left arm is missing and both his legs are nothing but bones. "Holy shit," Bailey says when she sees Chris's body herself. "The wolves really went crazy on Chris." "Poor bastard," Rebecca says. "That's not right," I say. "Yeah," Bailey goes on. "That's not right. I hope Chris was at least dead before they dug into him." "Not that," I say. Looking around some more, I then approach the front door of the ranger station. With the wooden plank ready in my hands, I peek in. "Son of a bitch," I say, lowering the plank. "I was right. Fuck. I hope I wasn't but I was right." "What," Rebecca asks. She and Bailey walk up to my side. I step aside to show them what I've found. There, in the ranger's station, is a blood-covered floo
Rebecca: Wiping the blood from Bailey, looking for the bite mark, I look up when I hear growling. "Go," Tristan says, pushing me and Bailey. "Go. Go!" Holding Bailey in my arms, I run toward the sewer. Reaching the hole, I hold her with one hand while climbing down. Tristan covers us while I climb down. The second he can, he jumps down the hole and pulls the cover over us. It's not even a full second before we hear scratching and sniffing from the other side. "Son of a bitch," Tristan says as we climb down. My foot hitting solid ground, I step back and listen as Tristan jumps down himself. I listen to Tristan as he fumbles around for his lighter. It takes him a minute or two but finally, we have light. "Hey," I say, snapping my fingers. "Bring that light down here. Come on. Come on!" Tristan drops to his knee and shines the light in front of me. It's a small light but it's better than nothing. Digging through my pack,