AN and Disclaimers:
We don't own The Walking Dead, Robert Kirkman was kind enough to give us his sandbox and we decided to play in it.
This story won't necessarily be a happy one, it will contain graphic descriptions of a violent nature, so please read at your own risk.
This is a collaborated project between two authors: guccileopard and akingwithnocrown .
Now, enjoy the story!
THE ATLANTA JOURNAL-CONSTITUTION
APRIL 2nd, 2011
LATEST MURDER: SHOCKING REVELATIONS
The Atlanta Police Department along with other representatives from surrounding states held a press conference this morning that will no doubt leave the country in shock.
What appeared to be another tragic but routine murder of a prostitute this past Sunday is part of something much larger, and more frightening, than the public could have imagined. District Attorney Thomas Dock revealed this morning that the murder is believed to be part of a serial crime spree spanning, officials deduce, the last five years.
"Due to the tireless efforts of the Atlanta police department, a pattern between many unsolved murders over the last several years have been linked together," DA Dock explained to the newsroom. Dock went on to explain the connection between victims; authorities believe the killings are linked by the concept of the seven deadlly sins - Greed, Lust, Wrath, Gluttony, Pride, Sloth, and Envy. When questioned as to why it is only now that they've recognized such a connection the police went on to explain that all the murders, although occuring around the same time every year, are generally spaced out over the span of months.
A cycle of the sins is completed every year to begin again, each themed murder grotesquely carried out in the same month as the previous years. The police have been able to deduce that a particular group is targeted for each sin; wealthy businessmen for greed, prostitutes for lust, drug addicts and alchoholics for wrath, morbidly obese persons for gluttony, models for pride, homeless for sloth and - perhaps most notably to the general public - major media figureheads for envy. It has been hard for the police to connect the murders until now as each killing is completed differently - the killers appear to have no preference as to how they dispatch their victim. Only now, when the pattern has been completed several times, can the larger picture be revealed and put together.
None of the victims are connected in any way besides their murders and the police can, dishearteningly, find no suspects that would fit into their case. FBI profiliers have been brought in, revealed DA Dock, to help ascertain a more clear picture of who would perpretate such a widespread and violent crime spree. The group gathered at the press conference would hear the final - and biggest - bombshell of the morning.
FBI profiliers believe the killings are the work of two females; debate was high, for if this is true it would be unprecedented. These women leave thier victims in the open and tackle seemingly arbitary victims - the understood M.O. of most male serial killers the world has or not such a thing is true, those present at the meeting quickly adopted the moniker "Whores of Babylon" for the renegade pair.
Any developments in regards to the Babylon murders will be covered minute by minute on our website (address in header). You can find details on the murders included in the pattern on our website as well.
The newspaper rolled over, careening down Atlanta's streets as a wind whipped through the buildings. It would have kept flying, landed in a gutter and been carried away like the rest of the world, had it not been caught against a tan combat boot. A hand reached down to pick it up from the sidewalk, smoothing the crumpled pages.
"Would you look at that?" the taller of the two scoffed, slapping the back of her hand against the headline in distaste.
The younger one nodded her head in agreement: "Are they honestly that dense? Seven deadly sins aren't formally listed in the Bible!" She snatched the newspaper out of the taller one's hands and narrowed her eyes while reading aloud, "FBI profilers believe the killings are the work of two females…"
"That's impossible!" the taller one exclaimed while reaching over to take back the article, her interest piqued due to the rather surprising discovery. "How can they be able to discern something like that from such neat and precise killers?"
The younger one replied, annoyed, "Well, Katja," making sure to pronounce the name the wrong way to annoy the taller one, "had you let me finish reading, I may have been able to tell you."
The taller one, Katja, rolled her eyes, "Don't be so sensitive, Zoya, we all know these words are too big for you to comprehend…" she joked, only for her crooked grin to slip into a frown when the younger one, Zoya, pulled out her lighter and lit the edge on fire.
Katja sneered and threw the newspaper clipping onto the dark pavement, "The only good reading material for weeks and you burn it!" She hastily seized the lighter from Zoya, "Clearly you can't be trusted with these," she muttered as she stuffed the lighter into her worn, denim pocket.
Zoya pouted - she was used to getting her way but her older sister seemed to think otherwise in these rather dire times. From a distance, it would have been hard to assume the two were related due to how they acted but they were more alike than most people knew.
Yes, the two sisters had some distinctive features, such as their skin tone, but that had to be the only thing. The two shared many other attributes: the high, smooth cheekbones that were proper for their oval shaped face; their full, feminine lips; and their long, thin noses. Katja had the larger eyes out of the two, with the bright shade of cerulean that stood out from her dewy, pale skin; and Zoya had narrower eyes, with an icy blue shade that contrasted with her tan, glowing skin.
The two also kept a similar hairstyle which reflected their neatness, both shared the same blunt bangs that framed their face and was simple to manage. Similar cut, however Katja maintained a longer style and Zoya kept a shorter, chin length version.
Katja motioned for her sister to trail behind her as they cautiously continued down the once lively streets of Atlanta, making sure to pause every other moment to get a quick listen for anything anomalous. Once the coast seemed to be clear, they continued to examine the cars for anything that may be of value: guns, food, medical supplies.
Zoya briskly tapped on her older sister's shoulder to point out a store down the block, which looked as if it had not been looted too badly. It would be a heavy risk to take, but the chance of finding water or food heavily outweighed the risks of being seen by a group of walkers.
The pair ducked down and dashed across the block, keeping their voices low, yet remaining on high alert at the same time.
The front door, one glass pane shattered, was hanging open slightly. Katja placed her whole hand up to gesture for her sister to stay close and have her weapon ready, a trusty axe named 'Knock Knock'. With her hand gripped tightly on Buzz, her indiscriminate crowbar, she placed her palm and applied a little pressure to get the door open.
Zoya, keeping her back to Katja to watch the rear, noticed something shuffling about a block or two away. She quickly nudged her sister with her elbow to rush her inside the store. Once inside, she silently closed the door as best as she could to not alarm any walkers in the vicinity.
"Katja," she whispered while still ducking, "we need to find an emergency stairwell or exit. I spotted a walker or two."
Katja turned her head to nod and acknowledge Zoya, and the two snatched up the supplies they could fit into their bag, faintly treading towards the back of the store. Zoya leaned up against the walls to get a feel for the area. Motioning her sister over, the two opened the door.
It led to a staircase, which they assumed to lead to the roof of the building, and they'd found it in the nick of time.
Katja cautiously moved out onto the rooftop, her hands hurting from their death-grip around Buzz. The roof-top, however, was quiet and mercifully free of walkers. It would seem it had seen its fair share of action though - a small pool of blood stained the white-washed ground. A pair of handcuffs attached to a pipe swung slightly in the breeze, covered in blood, and a hacksaw was carelessly thrown to the side.
"Damn," Zoya said, appreciating the scene. Katja only nodded, distracted by the roar of a huge herd of walkers below. Leaning over the side she could see them stretched in either direction they needed to take to escape the city. Though they had moved out of the state to pursue their schooling and careers in Florida, the two had grown up in Georgia and knew that they'd have a better chance of survival if they followed the freeway out of the city into less populated areas.
Zoya joined her overlooking the city, biting her lower lip and worrying her fingers along Knock's handle. How the hell were they going to get out of this one? They'd been in many a tight spot, but none that seemed as dark as this.
As if on cue a flash of red on the street directly across from where they'd come caught Zoya's eye. She stared at the spot it had appeared and was rewarded by the sight of a man running from the cover of a dumpster to hide in a doorway. Elbowing her sister she pointed towards the person who was making some kind of random hand motion. It became clear that he was signaling a group as five more people began darting between dumpsters and cars. Zoya's mind immediately went into hyperdrive, analyzing the situation as if it were a puzzle. Her eyes roamed the street to the left of the one the survivor's group was heading down and landed on a car that had smashed into a light pole. There weren't too many zombies milling around and gasoline leaked in a huge puddle all around the crash. It was right in front of a liquor store. Zoya - her pyromaniac mind in full throttle - was suddenly elated.
She knew exactly how they were going to escape.
She quickly relayed the plan to her sister. The two, once they'd agreed on the roles they'd play in the manuver, made their way back to the stairs and down onto the first floor of the building. They leaned up against the walls by the front door for just a moment, taking a breath and looking for the best path across the street.
Katja counted down on her fingers
1...
2...
3...
The two girls dashed out the entrance, crouching as they ran behind cars and kept in the best cover they could find. They had to do it as quickly as possible - the surviving group they had observed would undoubtably come this way and they had to be ready when they did. Dashing into the liquor store, Zoya whipped her pack off her back and dug through it, producing a glass Coke bottle and smiling with satisfaction.
"I should have known you'd keep one of those around," Katja said, rolling her eyes at her pyro sister. Ignoring the jibe, Zoya ran her fingers over the alcohol, looking for the highest proof she could find. She hit the jackpot when she landed on 190-proof Everclear. Sixteen states had banned its sale, so at least the state they had tried so hard to escape was good for something!
Zoya grabbed the bottle and steadily poured the Everclear inside the Coke bottle. Carefully placing the bottle down, she then grabbed a rag out of her bag and a small cork to close the bottle. Tying the rag and securing it with a rubber band around the bottom of the bottle so that the neck could be used as a throwing handle, she nodded to her sister and Katja (who was shaking her head at the fact that her younger sister kept all the components of a Molotov on hand) tossed her the lighter she'd confiscated earlier.
Their plan was going to be simple: create a (rather explosive) distraction for the herd of walkers that were heading down the streets and would soon close off the easiest way out of the city - anything to get them safe.
"Should we throw it from the other building?" Zoya questioned her older sister while making her way back to the sidewalk.
"Yes," Katja quickly lowered her voice and ducked, "there was a ladder off the side." She motioned her sister to follow behind and the two ran back to the corner store.
Once upstairs, Zoya observed the streets once more, to make sure everything would fall into place. The survivors she'd seen earlier were still in the same spot, waiting to gather their supplies and for the herd to pass by.
She grabbed the lighter and before lighting the rag Zoya yelled out to catch not only the attention of the small band, but of the walkers as well: "Hey!" The walkers hissed as their heads turned to the building. The survivors, gasping in excitement at the prospect of help, began inching along the building, spying the ladder. If they could only flank around and climb it they could join their saviors!
The group tried to make their way to the crashed car to hide behind it as they flanked the distracted group of walkers. It was a bad choice because as soon as they made it Zoya lit the rag and hurled the bottle at the car, aiming to hit the puddle of gasoline already there.
The car erupted into flames, engulfing two of the survivors and bringing the walkers' attention to the group. Screams of horror filled the air and gave the sisters the amusement they'd been craving as the walkers, now in flames, surrounded the remaining persons, pulling them apart and devouring their flesh.
Zoya sighed in satisfaction while marveling at her work; she turned to her sister who was watching the situation as well, "Should we go now?"
Katja gave her a wide smile, "Of couse, sister," She slung her arm around Zoya's shoulders and gave her a quick squeeze, "I'm so proud of you."
Zoya smiled to herself, took one last glance at the scene, and turned to join her sister at the ladder that lay on the side of the building. They both slid down, ignoring the screams and wishing that the survivors would take into consideration the other people that may be around, and continued out of the city.
"The best part - you haven't even heard it!" Zoya snorted from her hearty laughs, "They looked at me," she had to hold her stomach to keep herself from laughing more, "they…they thought I was trying to save them!"
Katja burst into laughter at hearing about the groups' naïveté, "How could they be so trusting? Idiots."
Zoya shrugged in response, "No clue." She tapped her chin in deep thought, "What I don't understand, is how they kept screaming, they were just alerting more walkers…"
"More reasons they deserved the fate we gave them," Katja agreed. "We did society a favor."
"Very true," she paused, "besides, everyone deserves a cooked meal." Zoya giggled at her rather dark sense of humor and the sisters continued moving towards the on-ramp.
An hour later they had traveled a good length of the freeway, scavenging through cars for any valuables. To Katja's utter delight she found enough cigarettes to constitute three packs which she stowed away in a box she had just for them. Zoya would be thrilled - Katja without her cigarettes was not a happy Katja.
Another hour and several good finds later - including a nice handgun that Katja gave to Zoya as she was holding out for a shotgun - the girls were becoming concerned about finding shelter for the night. None of the options seemed like good ones and it was fast becoming dark. They kept trying to start cars but nothing was working and at this rate they'd have to sleep in a car overnight which seemed dangerous. What if walkers smelled them inside the vehicle and by morning they were surrounded?
Neither planned on dying by starving to death, trapped in a car surrounded by drooling lunatics.
They were saved from the decision by the sound of distant gunshots. From their respective positions pawing through cars they looked at each other and smiled. Zipping up her backpack full of scavenged items Katja slid across the hood of the car she'd been searching and jumped the guardrail, Zoya close behind her. It was only about a minute of running in the direction of the noise when they came on a dirt road that went in the direction of the sound. Without pausing to think both girls fell into step with one another, feet pounding on the dirt as they followed the noise.
It was about ten minutes before a huge lake came into view. Both girls had slowed to catch their breath and the gunshots had stopped. There was nothing to do but keep following the road. After another minute Zoya put her fingers to Katja's arm and pointed to the low light of a small fire. Like the team they were both girls melted into the woods on the side of the road, moving slowly through the brush as they neared the fire.
The sound of crying reached them first. It was long and low and pitiful. Next were the voices, mixed male and female, low and strained. Katja and Zoya moved slowly through the trees, edging up on the group. It was impossible to be completely silent however, and the snapping of twigs broke the silence. A voice shot through the air, male with a hint of southern twang.
"Walkers!" it called and the sound of running could be heard clearly. The harsh sound of a shotgun being pumped snapped through the air and both girls knew that every gun in the camp was pointed their way.
"We're human!" called Zoya, praying no one was trigger happy enough to shoot them merely at their surprise at hearing a voice. Katja and Zoya exited the tree line, coming out into the open with their hands at their sides and wry smiles on on their faces. They were right - they could see down the barrel of no less than five guns aimed at their heads.
Perfect.
Thank you for reading the story, we hope you've enjoyed, and if you did then feel free to leave some feedback!
Next chapter will primarily focus on the siblings backgrounds, so stay tuned!
Want to read more from the authors? Then check out guccileopard's story, They Say and akingwithnocrown's story, Dying to Live .
Enjoy your holidays!
