Your name is Jane Crocker, and you're trying not to cry as you watch your house crumble under the flames you set, infested with blood-covered zombies.
The epidemic had started a month ago. Your dad had refused to move house; bought a shotgun, even. You hold it in your hands, stained and shaking, hoping none of them come out.
You know that your friends are coming to get you, but you're not sure what to do until then. Dirk was always the planner, the one who knew what needed to be done and did it, and Jake took action. Even Roxy was a lot better than you.
You don't know where to go or how to survive.
You go to the house closest to you and search for car keys. You find some, and get in the truck sitting outside. You have no idea what you're doing, but you have to get away.
Taking out your dad's PDA, you sign in as your handle, tears pouring from your eyes. You tell Dirk you're coming to him.
You're going to Texas.
You've never been more terrified in your life as you figure out just how the truck works.
After stopping for gas and some more supplies, you hop into your truck again. It's been five days since you left home, and you've gathered plenty of things - guns, ammo, a pitchfork you're particularly fond of, clothes and food. You're dressed more rugged than you've ever been - a bandana around your head to keep your hair back and wipe away any sweat built up from the heat of the desert, ripped up capris jeans. You have a loose t-shirt and running shoes for practicality.
You know your close to Dirk now; you've been driving non-stop. You've barely slept at all, and when you're not sleeping you're driving.
Sure enough, you spot a sign telling you you've entered Texas. You don't know where Dallas is from here.
Luckily, you don't have to.
Another truck is parked in the middle of the road. A familiar face is sitting in the back, smoking a cigarette and playing with a knife.
Dirk.
You stop in front of him and jump out, gun in hand.
"No zombies around here," he drawls, and lord is that what he sounds like? Deep and throaty with a prominent Texan drawl and how did you never know that? "I eradicated them."
He hops down from his perch and spits out his cigarette. His clothes look a lot tighter than yours. After taking a good long look at you, and you him, he hugs you tightly; you can't help but start crying because you're not alone anymore.
"It's good to see you," he says quietly. You sniffle.
"You too," you manage to get out. After a long moment he pulls back.
"We should get moving. It'll be dusk in Dallas if we don't move quickly, and I need to grab some stuff before we head out."
You're confused. "Leave? What about your brother?"
He stiffens visibly. "He was out on a supplies run when we got attacked. I assume he left town. I haven't had contact with anyone since except you and Roxy."
"What about your Bro?" you ask. You don't mean to pry, but family meant a lot to him; you know.
"Dead." He walks over to his truck. "What about your family?"
You look down. "Dad died saving me. John was on Vacation when the epidemic happened, visiting Jake and Jade. I don't know what happened to him, but I'm sure hes safe."
He gives you a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry to hear that. We'll try to contact them at Roxy's when we get wifi."
"We're going to Roxy's house?"
"She has a stronghold there with her mom. We should be able to get there quickly if we push it." He opens the cab of his truck. "Get in yours. We're bringing supplies with us, and we'll need a lot of storage space. Follow me."
You get in your own truck and tail him the whole way back to his apartment. He tarps down and secures your truck before rushing you into his apartment building.
He goes straight to the control room and sets the place on lockdown. You feel a little safer because of it.
When you leave and head for the stairs, you look out the door and scream.
There are zombies pressed up against every inch of the glass, slapping it and moaning. Dirk takes your hand as you watch thick steel slide over it and cover them.
"That's why I wanted to get here before dusk. They're attracted to the light - it means people. Food." His face goes stony. "That's how my bro died. We were late coming home - it had been a long day - and we sent Dave back to grab something we forgot. We wanted his aj as well, the little shit." He leads you up the stairs. "We got swamped. We had to cut through the throng. I got there first and he made me lock it down before he could get in. He's been missing in action ever since."
You squeeze his hand. "I'm so sorry."
He shrugs. "It doesn't matter now."
It does, and you both know it.