Disclaimer: I don't own Dawn of the Dead.
Note: This takes place in a Fictional city named Titan City. Also I choose to use walking zombie's .
Scott Anderson coughed as his partner's cigarette smoke reached his nostrils.
"Put that shit out", said Scott rolling down his window and swing his arm to push the smoke away.
"Take it easy rook", replied Jacob King, Scotts veteran partner. The 40 year old big African-American man flicked his cigarette out of his open window, and it vanished in the dark. He then rolled up his window and turned his head toward Scott."Happy?"
Scott just ignored him and looked at his rear view mirror. Scott kept his dark brown hair short, with his bang's cropped up. His face was void of any facial hair. The young US Marshal looked over at Jacob and said."When are we stopping we haven't eaten since...I don't even remember."
"I like the way your thinking", said Jacob grinning and scanning the streets like a hawk for some where that would serve food.
Scott looked down at the car's digital clock. 10:37 P.M. He brushed some crumbs off his white button up shirt before stretching his arm's.
"Hot meal dead ahead", said Jacob pulling into a desolate parking lot. A few other car's were scattered about it. He wasn't surprised given the time and all. Jacob pulled up next to a red Camaro. Somebody has a lot of money, Scott thought to himself as Jacob turned off the car. Scott pulled his door handle and pushed it out. He stepped out of the car let out a big yawn.
"Aren't tired are ya?", asked Jacob.
"Why would I be, only been on the road for 8 hour's", said Scott.
Jacob chuckled and the two Marshal's began to approach the diner. 'Chief's diner' it read on the roof.
"I bet you an Indian owns this place", said Jacob as they neared the door.
"I think you mean Native American", said Scott.
"Yea what ever I call em Indians", said Jacob.
Scott reached the door 1st, pulling it open letting two old women walk out and Jacob walk in. He followed after his partner letting the door slam shut.
The TV was glaring on about the strange wave of violent behavior sweeping the world. Scott had yet to encounter any of these 'rioters' as they called them. But he had heard about them from friends. Plus it was all over the news and internet.
"Hope Nel is OK", muttered Jacob as he slumped down into a booth.
"I'm sure she is", said Scott sitting down opposite of Jacob. The two Marshal's had drawn a few curious looks, mainly because the gun's holstered at their waists. Scott looked down at his chrome M92F. They tried to make him carry a Glock, but he was to fond of his M92F. Jacob didn't mind so Scott just left the Glock in the car most times.
A thin young blonde haired woman approached the two men. Her skin was very well tanned which was surprising considering they were in a coastal city. Her tag read 'Allison'.
"May I take your order?", she asked in a surprisingly cheerful voice, considering the late hour and all.
Jacob scanned the menu his eyes moving all over the plastic covered paper.
Scott spoke up first."I'll have the tenderloin".
She scribbled it down on to her pad."And to drink?"
"Coke", Scott said.
"And you, sir?" she asked Jacob.
"The KC strip with a Coke also", said Jacob setting his menu down on the table. The waitress Allison scooped up both menus and turned back towards the kitchen and hustled off towards it. Scott laid his head back closing his eye's. He thought about their current assignment. They were suppose to pick up some crime witness from the local sheriff. They were still a few hours from their destination though. They were expected tomorrow . It was one of the easier assignments.
Scott was roused by the waitress returning with their drinks. She set both cokes down on the table. She smiled and was about to turn away before Jacob said to her."Excuse me Allison but could you tell me some where we could find to rest?"
She turned back towards him and said."Right across the street is a nice hotel".
Jacob thanked her and she walked off back towards the kitchen. Scott laid his head back down.
Scott tossed his duffel bag down at the foot of the bed. The motel room was very small. All that was in it was a queen sized bed, a small TV on a dresser, and a table with 2 chairs. No bathroom and no shower. He approached the table, placed near his bed, and removed his pistol holster and badge. He set them both down on the table. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt tossing it on to one of the chairs, revealing a white sleeveless under shirt he then kicked off his back spit shined loafers. He took a seat at the foot of the bed scooping the remote up off the mattress. He pressed the power button.
"...The number of people exhibiting his behavior is increasing in our city and it is recommended that all civilians stay in doors unless they must leave their home", a man in a navy colored police uniform was saying.
Wonder whats making people act so crazy, thought Scott. Guess its the full moon, he thought looking out side up at the glaring white full moon.
He eased him self back down on the bed, his feet still hanging off and slowly drifted to sleep.
Jacob was roused by the sound of his phone ringing. His eyes shot open. He had his hand on Glcok and was scanning the small motel room.
"Damn thing", he muttered fishing the phone out of his slacks pocket. He looked to see who was calling. It was his wife. Uh oh, he thought to himself. He flipped open the phone.
"Hello", he said in a worn out voice.
"Jacob one of those crazies is trying to break into the house!", his wife squealed. Jacob could hear banging in the back round.
"Did you call the police?", asked Jacob standing up. Not that he could do anything from here.
"Yes but there line was busy", replied his wife.
"What?", asked Jacob. Is it that bad there, he thought to himself.
"What do we do Jacob!", yelled his hysterical wife.
Jacob thought for a second."You and the kids get to basement, but first go upstairs and under mattress his a .38. Fully loaded. Grab it, all you do to fire it is pull the hammer back."
"OK", sobbed his wife.
"Nel I love you", whined Jacob, angry and sad he could do nothing from where he was to help his wife.
"I love you too", she replied. He could hear his two sons crying in the background. Damn it!, his mind screamed.
"I'll call Hank and have him check on you", said Jacob.
"Alright", said Nel who had calmed down a bit.
"I'll talk to you later", he said in a calm voice, trying to comfort her.
"OK", she said.
Jacob flipped close the phone. There was nothing else he could say. He flipped it back open and opened up his contacts. Scrolling through it he found Hank's, his brother, number. He pressed the call button and waited.
Ring...
Ring...
Ring ...
Ring...
Ring...
Ring...
It finally just went to his voice mall. A youthful voice said:
"Yo this is Hank if your hearing this I'm either working or partying, I'll get back to ya when I get back to ya".
"Fuck!", yelled Jacob throwing his phone down at the bed. He yelled Fuck a few more times before there was bang on the wall next to his.
"Shut the hell up!", yelled a voice.
Jacob took a deep breath and sat down on the side of his bed. I need to get some sleep, he thought to himself. But how can I sleep when my wife and kids are in danger. I'm sure they'll be fine, basement has a strong door and she can handle a .38.
He seemed to convince himself things would be alright, he laid his body down on the bed. He reached over to the lamp and flipped off the light. He then slowly drifted to sleep.
