Chapter One of the Survivor's Chronicle

Deliver us
Monday 3: 27 PM

"How's it coming in here?"
The question is backed by no small deal of strain- tell tale signs that their safety is threatened.
The mind summons horrific images unbidden- all of them involving failure and death- or worse. It all hinges on our plan- and Kinsey's part of the plan is the most detail- oriented.

"I need a few more minutes. Can you give me that?"
The sound of paper crackling fills the air as a harried woman shakes the next overlay of maps out. "Keep them of us."
"We can see their teeth through the 'cades, Kinsey." Feeling the pressure, an agitated glance is shot across the makeshift table to the speaker.

The bearer of bad news is leaning on the table, his fingers splayed out between the maps that have already been searched through. New calluses are forming over his palms- a fresh gash is visible over his knuckles. The bloods already clotting... near the beginning of the siege is as near as it can be placed. He wouldn't pull himself from the fight for anything short of being overtaken in moments.

Olive colored skin bristling with two-day growth rests beneath searching eyes the color of slate. The ever-changing eyes of Ryan are penetrating through Kinsey's dark ones, imploring the gravity of the rapidly unraveling plan. Mirroring his gaze, an equally desperate situation is reflected back to him.

Rocking back from the table, Ryan takes the news badly as his slender form twists to look back the way he has come. Shadows fall across his features that are at odds with one another. A genetic puppeteer has captured the brow and eyes of a troubled mathematician and submitted a model's hallowed cheeks and just- right chin. In any other chance encounter, his closest ally would have dismissed him as a pretty playboy and never would have known the brilliant strategist lurking behind those eyes.

Privately, Kinsey believes that same reaction would have denied their friendship which had been forged through need. Passably pretty, no one would ever compare the daughter of jet mechanic to a model. A no- nonsense bob of dirty blond hair rests atop of the mind of someone with a brilliant eye- to see things. Patterns, designs, images trapped beneath marble- and when thrust into an alien and deadly world, routes to safety. When pressed, routes to their strongest desires.

Not a trace of makeup is apparent on her pale face, not that the two days on the run has had any affect on her normal indifference to her appearance.

The gaping holes in what they knew of one another has always stuck going down Kinsey's comprehension, some partially digested piece of whom someone was- here & now, with no knowledge of who they were Before.

"Than reinforce the cades."
Fire is put into her voice, backed by steel resolve. If we cut and run now with nowhere to go, we'd be picked off. We'd die in the streets. The lucky ones would die.

Ducking her head, the bob is all Ryan can see of the inscrutable woman as she immerses herself in the work.
There's a surprised outcry in the outer room and Ryan breaks into a run, muttering a curse as he departs.

"Three over..." Nails bitten to the quick trail along a map, looking at the building plans. The nominated Navigator could get us out of this building easily, but the whole 'burb was infested. We wouldn't be able to rest after the siege that's started before dawn.

Low on ammo before, it was hinging on her ability to get us to a cache of weapons not obvious to the hordes. The last overrun police station had been the beginning of today's' horror.

Only through Kinsey's recollection of the building layout had the group been able to hole up in their safe house that had sheltered them for the better part of the day. The more independent survivors who had been looting in the P.D. alongside them had not heeded her 'hunch' ... and had paid for it.

Recognition sparks behind smudged glasses as the route is traced with a finger trembling with anticipation and a great deal of stress.

"Ryan!" A triumphant shout lifts the spirit of the men who were straining at the doors and windows of their makeshift safe house.
"I have it!"

Rustling clothes are the only audible sound that the crew emits. Stretching out from her perch on the window, Kinsey Kowalsic is twelve feet from the concrete below- there's no sign of the horde yet. Fate has given them a reprieve- the excitement of breaking through the last of the barricades has pulled the undead from their positions outside of the safe house.

Strong hands grip her, pulling her across the void onto a small hutch of a balcony. It was a swift call to avoid having her hip jutted against a rather ill-placed gnome. The balcony was even smaller than it had appeared on the plans. Chiding herself on her estimation of their bodies in proportions to the route she had planned, she turned to check on the rest of the crew.

Ryan is already stepping onto the pompous barrier intended to keep some innocent toddler from toppling over the side.

As he finds purchase above, Kinsey receives a cumbersome pack from across the way that contains their priceless maps and her plotted routes. Shouldering the pack, the undaunted woman stretched out to guide the third adventurer onto the balcony.

Always a touch on the reckless side, he leaps to close the distance to her. Fingers are splayed over his head as he leaps across the void. He slows in mid air as though he might not make it.

Already committed, his legs follow his bodies leap through space in his silent gamble with gravity.

Her heart hammers in her chest as outstretched fingers glide over the loose fitting plaid button up shirt plastered to his body. They catch under his arms and lock across his broad back, wrenching him away from the yawning concrete abyss below. Locked in a precarious embrace, the two survivors lean towards the cramped hutch where a dusty barbecue lords over the only one to remain as the world spiraled into hell. It's the same hideous thing Kinsey almost ran into- a rather kamikaze- looking garden gnome whose expression looked almost gleeful at their plight.

Bracing her arm against the wall Ryan is in the process of scaling, her scathing remark hurls through the air.
"Burke, your an idiot- I almost didn't catch you!"

"Than I would have had a lovely evening jog."
'Burke' is the only name this strapping young man has offered his new companions, a lone name stretching over his reckless nature and buoyant deposition that seemed to refuse to be apprehensive about their situation. Even if falling down to the streets below would bear his tender flesh to the merciless horde nipping on their heels- and that was just the horde that they knew about.

"Up, now." Fingers knitted together to form a stirrup to hoist her up to the roof. The hutch has become bulky with the two of them, taking into account the cumbersome pack that extended from Kinsey's back and Burke's muscular frame that looked to be ripped right off of RAW. There's a bit of time wasted trying to turn in the small space as the two shuffled around the other.

By now Ryan has already crouched low to the roof, his waiting hand held aloof to catch Kinsey. The positioning of each of the crew had proven to match speed with versatility- Ryan's height has allowed him to stretch greater distances, Kinsey's climbing aptitude had pulled the crew through a touchy situation around the church's bell tower and Burke's strength hastened the heavier and oldest member of their crew along.

As this decision was revisited, Ryan's eyes lift momentarily from the situation on the hutch -he would not call it a balcony- to the one at the safe house they had just left. The last member of the crew was perched outside of the windowsill patiently, giving him a small nod back.

'I'm all right." He seemed to relate across that chasm of No Mans Land to Ryan with that steady gaze. "Although it is getting a bit hot this side of Dodge. I would love to come across to safety, if it wouldn't be any trouble."

Lincoln Segher was without a doubt the most purpose- driven and collected man Ryan had ever come across. In a situation where everyone seemed to succumb to the stress and go a bit crazy, he remained polite and courteous. Grey was threatening to overtake his mop of black hair, making him their elder by several years. A well made shirt stretched taunt over a broad chest that spoke of many years of active living.

Wordlessly accepting the help, Kinsey nimbly moves against the young man. Marveling at how easily she is catapulted upwards as her foot is supported by the makeshift platform of the young bodybuilders' body; her eyes reflexively glanced back at Lincoln. As she does so, a sharp splintering of wood cuts through their silence, her blood instantly running cold.

Ryan's swift capture and pull on her hand brings her back to her body with startling clarity as she struggled to find purchase on the slopped roof.

Crawling past him, she resisted his efforts to take her pack -"You'll need your hands, the 'cades just broke next door."

Scrambling forward on all fours until she reached the end of the roof, realization dawned that the next step of their route looks to be the easiest.

A new supermarket had recently been completed- and the workers had yet to tidy up the signs. A rigging hung snugly next to the roof- adjusting her glasses, she could see that a platform stretched the distance between the two buildings. Peering down the side of the apartment they were scaling revealed another rigging attached to this building.

Pulling her pack free, she appreciated the weight being lifted from her shoulders. Rising up to a crouch, she swung the pack and calculated the force to hurl the pack to the supermarket roof. It thudded unceremoniously on the other side.

Turning around to shimmy down on her belly, she hung as her feet investigated below her. Starring upwards at the darkening sky, Kinsey persisted in her exploratory work until her toes brushed a surface.

Carefully swinging her body away from the wall to give her legs more reach, Kinsey guessed that this was the rigging that she had seen.

Trusting her calculations, Kinsey released her hold on the wall. Falling down the side of the building, gravity pulled her into a horizontal dive.

Monday 7: 49 PM

"That should do it." Kinsey replied as she wrapped the excess back onto the roll of bandages.
As Kinsey bandages his hand, Ryan recalls Kinsey's actions while he and Burke had been escaping with Lincoln.

His heart still leaped into his throat when he remembered seeing Kinsey walking across the narrow platform between the constructions rigging around the building. As agile as any tightrope artist, he recalled the total absence of fear in her eyes.

Burke, however, had an issue with heights... that expression brought a faint smile to Ryan's face.

Pulling himself back into the present, Ryan examined his hand. The cut wasn't very bad, but there were no Band Aids in the communal pack.
Infection had become a large concern since they had witnessed someone- an average looking someone- Turn in the streets while they were en route towards the P.D. yesterday.

Glancing over to the slumbering forms, he remarked.
"Its amazing how they can just drop."

"After that escape..." Kinsey finished mentally.
"I know, I'm still wired."

Her gaze followed his, noting the two sleeping with their extra shirt balled for a pillow.

It reminded her that they had been forced to run and leave behind most of the provisions that they had scrounged that day.
Reaching for her pack, she looked through with concern.

"We still have the guns." She noted the four pistols that they had picked up. "Not much ammo, though. Some must have fallen during... the breach."

Ryan wordlessly settled beside her on the floor, looking into the pack. He noted with dismay that they had nowhere near the amount they had hoped to get- they had planned on mounting an offensive tomorrow.

Then we had to bolt for the roofs when zombies broke into the Police Department. We were restocking at the P.D- and this has put us back…

"Not much food... we can have an orange for breakfast." Travel time was calculated mentally as she recalled the route that she had laid out. "We should reach the mall around 4 'o'clock tomorrow."

It was seven o'clock at night. After the narrow escape, they had climbed for another hour to escape the horde on their heels. Luckily enough, the zombies didn't seem to be able to smell them while they moved across the roofs or scuttled across stairwells and fire escapes.

The barricades in the buildings they were climbing across had looked shabby, so they didn't have a chance to rest until they had reached the school that Kinsey had chosen. This suburb seemed to be much better than the last- no groans harassed them through the walls, no fists pounded on the barricades they had nailed up with pieces from nearby bleachers and desks.

Slumbering in the gym- due to the high windows as an emergency exit point- absolute darkness was threatening to overtake the four. Kinsey had set their lone flashlight between them while she had bandaged his hand.

Contemplative, the two fell silent. Two days ago all four of them had been total strangers. Now, they were always together.

It was them against the world.

Inception

Ryan could still remember wandering the streets two nights ago, alone and very confused. At first he thought that there had been a terrorist attack when he came across a slew of dead bodies at the 7-11 where he bought his coffee every morning.

Stepping across the doorway, he had seen the zombie devouring the shopkeeper. In shock and suffering through his urge to vomit, he had witnessed someone -Burke- attempt to save the shopkeeper armed with a Louisville slugger.

In the mess that had followed, Ryan had clocked the zed with a nearby fire extinguisher and ran from the scene with Burke. The shopkeeper had died- and given chase after them with his murderer.

Very frightened and confused, the two had been attempting to break into a nearby bar- which had bars across the windows. Their angel- Kinsey- had forcibly dragged them in off the street and continued to nail the door shut behind them.
The one breaking up stuff to use as barricades was Linc, who had wandered across Kinsey liberating some water bottles about twenty minutes earlier.

That first night together had been very traumatic- and had formed a bond between the four that made up the group.

Kinsey hadn't slept at all, choosing instead to crouch by the door with a hammer in hand.
Lincoln had fallen off and pitched and turned something awful. No one said anything about it to him when he woke up on the hour, every hour.

Ryan had passed that night worried about his parents- they lived right outside the town limits and didn't watch the news very often. 'Depressing bias' his mother had once confided to him.

Two evenings had passed since then and no one knew about their loved ones. The town had been quarantined- and each of them possessed loved ones outside of the city limits. Cell phones didn't work- and they had quickly discovered most of their possessions had to be abandoned to stay agile & mobile.

Glancing over, Ryan noticed that Kinsey had fallen asleep, slouched against the pack.

A feeling of relief surged through him, for Kinsey's bouts with insomnia were worrying him something fierce. He suspected that something had happened while she slept- but she had been tight-lipped on why she couldn't sleep.

As he balled up a T-shirt to place under her head and laid her down on the floor gently, he reflected that they really didn't know each other very well.

Ryan didn't know what her middle name was, if she had a boyfriend- he knew she wasn't married, for she wasn't wearing a ring. That she was practical had been picked up quickly- she had led the looting of necessities like food and water.

Glancing over to Lincoln, he recalled he was the one who knew precisely where the police department was. That had been a little weird.
Lincoln had taught Kinsey how to aim with a gun they had found while looting the P.D- and had the patient tone of a teacher. Maybe he was one as that profession.

Settling in to keep watch, it was unsettling how much he didn't know about the crew. They had instantly started calling themselves that when they planned the morning activities.

Find out about our family; get enough weapons to kill those undead bastards; save people. That was their little creed, no matter how modest their beginnings.

Tuesday 12 noon

As noon rolled around, Kinsey was peering out of the high windows above their heads. The windows overlooked the school main and had no direct access to the streets and had not been barricaded. They afforded a small smidgen of the street passing the school that Kinsey was studying.

Their things had already been packed up for they were normally on the roof by one PM. The zeds seemed to be more active at pre-dawn hours and less active in the heat of the day.

It would make the next trek a bear with the sun bearing down on them, but they had to get to the mall. Breakfast had consisted of a solitary orange apiece and no one was kidding themselves about the state of their armory.

The mall seemed to be the best bet to find what they needed.
"It looks clear." Kinsey reported as she joined them.

"Let's get going then." Burke replied conversationally, slipping a gun into the waistband of his jeans. Ryan felt himself uneasy with that development, but said nothing.

Everyone had agreed they could not fight until they had enough ammo to do it right.

Shouldering the pack, Ryan followed Kinsey out to start breaking the barricades down to rejoin the world.

Tuesday- 4:26 PM

Ackland Mall
When it was realized there was no way to reach the mall from the roofs, the group had been forced them to slow down. It was then they realized that the parking lot was littered with bodies. A cluster of determined looking people with weapons were crouched beside wooden crates beside the barricades of the mall entrance.

Ackland Mall was a madhouse. This was agreed on within the first ten minutes of their

arrival. As they evaluated the building from the roof of a nearby sporting goods store, a man in a blue sweater vest had shot someone who had walked across the parking lot. Immediately a volley of shots from the mall defenders cut him down where he stood.
Green-clad men, two of them- had emerged from an opening high above the barricades and had carried the wounded man who had been attacked without provocation into the Mall. The man who had shot the passerby was left lying on the concrete, clearly dead.

"It seems pretty clear cut." Lincoln determined. "Walk out in plain sight and look non-threatening. Harmless as baby bunnies. Not shooting some random guy might help with that."
Burke evaluated the body of the most recently dead, not looking convinced. "Is he gonna Turn?"

"Doesn't look like it."
"Must only be bitten ones. Like the movies."
"Creepy mess."

In the end, Kinsey and Ryan had stepped into sight of the mall, hands up and guns tucked out of sight. After pausing to ensure a barrage of bullets wouldn't make them take cover, Lincoln and Burke joined them walking towards the mall.

The gun toting defenders barely glanced at them as they dropped through the chute. Set up in prone and standing positions, they clearly took this seriously.

"You hurt?" A high pitched voice demanded as a nervous looking man clad in green ran up to them. A short man with a fuzzy mass of red hair peeking out from beneath his green cap was evaluating them.

"What's this?" Without waiting to hear an explanation, he had seized Ryan's bandaged hand. Almost immediately Burke was beside the little man, his own hand weighing heavy on his arm.

"I have FAKs!" The man chirped, attempting to shrug out of Burke's grip. This attracted the nearest gun toting defender, who leveled Burke with a flat stare.
"He's a doctor, won't hurt you none."

The doctor was released and immediately opened a small portable First Aid Kit. "You haven't been disinfected have you?" The man didn't seem offset by Burke's behavior.
"I washed it out." Kinsey offered.

"Was it a bite?"
"No. Scratched it on a nail climbing over barricades."
"Seen any zeds since then?"

"Saw what?"
"Zombie bastards." The stern defender offered from his position. He had stood and was wandering closer to them, a shotgun under his arm.
"Yeah. We had a scuffle with them in Lurkinswood."
"I'll give you this then." The man had pulled out a wipe and ripped it open, wiping it over the open wound. Resisting the urge to snap at the unexpected pain, Ryan watched the expert way the man bandaged him back up with a clean bandage.

"You get bit, disinfect." The man was advising, handing Kinsey the opened first aid kit. "There's a stack of these in the pharmacy inside. You guys aren't reviver's, are you?"

"No." Came the collective answer from equally puzzled people.

"I got it, Rex." The burly man told the doctor, who was happy to hurry off without being thanked.
"You lot have been holed up, huh?"
"That obvious?"
"Lot of people are coming out lately. Food, water... unreality. There's a gun shop to the left-" He turned and pointed.
"Everyone can help themselves. Recommend you don't sleep here, we're enforcing a barricade plan out there. Been a string of kills around here lately, so be careful. Stock up and sleep somewhere else. You think of defending the Mall, you come on back here."

With muttered thanks, the group moved on to restock. The mall was a restocking paradise, but the slew of questions at finding people was startling. Why had that man shot the other one? What was reviving?

Spotting the doctor bent over a crouching man, Kinsey vowed to find out as she grabbed an armful of FAKs and headed over towards him.

"Its how you bring them back." The doctor replied as he swabbed an open wound with another disinfectant wipe. His patient- an Asian man of about thirty- winced but did not complain.

"Bring them back?"

"From being zeds. One stick- and bang. Dead body."

"Sounds easy."

"Its not." The doctor closed up his kit and glanced around. Kinsey guessed that he was looking for more patients.

"Its tricky. I can teach you, if you want. Plan on hitting the revive point tomorrow afternoon."

"Okay." Kinsey agreed. "I'll be there. What time?"

Tuesday 11: 47 PM

Swearing jolts Kinsey from her sleep. It had been fitful at best, yet she finds herself resentful as she struggles out of her sleeping bag. A decent night's sleep around the mall was becoming a myth. The lull of sleep recedes as sounds of danger fuel her limbs to move faster.

'Danger' is the sound of nails scraping wood and of hands and feet beating on the barricades that had been erected before they had settled down to sleep. The worst sounds were the listless moans of the zombies; it seemed to chill the marrow of her bones.

"Kinsey!" Ryan shouts over his shoulder. His voice is strained as he stands beside Burke, supporting the barricades with their hands. To her left, Lincoln is tearing down the interior of the safe house to make more material for barricades. It looked like the bathroom door was first on the list- as privacy dies.

"Kinsey, get-"

"I'm here." Kinsey replied at his elbow. Accepting a piece of wood from Linc, she placed it over a thin area of the barricades. She winced reflexively at seeing dead, dirty fingers prying at the cracks. The wooden pieces that had been nailed together earlier were being pulled down from the outside.

Linc leaned over her shoulder to place a nail. As he drew the hammer back, the sound of splintering wood was the only warning.

A hand burst through the weak spot in the wood. It was a mangled, dead head of a more seasoned zombie. This was registered in about two seconds as the hand groped about. With stunning precision, it honed in on Ryan and seized him by the front of his shirt.

As Ryan was pulled against the barricades, Kinsey locked her arms around his waist. As she braced her feet and pulled with all her strength, Ryan pushed off of the barricades. The hand was now aided by the horde- a gaping mouth could be seen pressed up against the opening. It was a frightening visage of modern dentistry with partially digested meat- human, no doubt- caught between silvery cavities.

BAM!

The gunshot fired at close range shocks ones' senses. The second and third shots are no better, but it's clear that Burke's aim is improved with each shot. As Ryan and Kinsey fly backwards from the opening, Lincoln slams a piece of wood over it and nails with a renewed sense of urgency.

"Damn." Burke remarks as he tucks the gun back in its holster and steps up beside Lincoln.

"Shit." Ryan pants as he sits up. His shirt is examined- it's torn down the front, but the skin on his chest is intact. The close call sparks conflicting emotions. "Shit!"

"You're telling me. Never shot anything before."

"This isn't working." Lincoln's normally calm voice was strained. "I'm out of wood."

"What about the cabinets-"

"That's blended cheap crap. Won't hold."

Fear stole over the four as they stared at each other, terrified.