Shortly after the passing of Bill the survivors save a young man, Quinn O'Malley, from a crashed helicopter. Quinn is a stunt man in the peak of physical fitness with an extensive background in sword fighting, fire arms, first aid, three martial arts, parkour and free running. Perfect new addition to the team right? Except for one minor detail; he's Canadian. And if there's anything Francis hates more then the military, hospitals, doctors, lawyers, cops, elevators, stares, vans, the woods, small towns, tanks, train yards, or the water, its Canada... Eh.
Chapter One: Impact
The young man opened his eyes, the rain dripping down his long dark hair, and onto his face caused his battered body to lurch back into consciousness. Groaning he rolls over, jolts of agony flashing through his medium sized, but very well build body. Cuts and bruises all over ache as he pulls himself to his knees. Crawling out of what remained of the helicopter that had been air born no less then an hour ago, he blinked into the dark clouds and pouring rain. With blurry vision and weak legs he stumbled out into the open, flashes of memories past seeming more real then the moment he was in now. Memories of working on the film set he had been called to, memories of telling his girlfriend this was his big break, that he would miss her, but this was the movie he'd been made, and waiting for. He walks through the rain, and something runs headlong for him. Blindly, he punches it away, and with it, come more memories, memories of hearing about the green flu scare, memories of the downtown of the city no longer being safe, memories of going to the studio, only to open the doors to wave after wave of infected pouring out. It comes at him a second time, again, he punches it away. As he does, his left leg lurches, and gives way. Falling to the ground, what little remains of what he can see fades to black. He expects whatever it was that was running at him to hit him a third time, but it never comes, replaced by a loud distant bang. Then nothing.
Rain. That's what he could hear next, rain. But it was no longer the downpour he had lost awareness to, it was rain coming down on a roof. Twisting himself slightly, he felt the brush of a sleeping bag wrapped around his shoulders, and opened his eyes to the "A" frame of a building's roof.
"Careful, you're banged up pretty bad mister." a voice from behind him spoke. The young man tilted his head upwards to see a thin man of African decent in a dress shirt and red tie. "I don't know how bad yer hurt but you'll make it worse if you move too quick."
"Where am I?" The young man asked slowly sitting up from the floor, the sleeping bag sliding off him.
"Little town of Rayford, Georgia." The man chuckled. "U-uh, are you sure you should be move'n so soon?" he said eyeing the other man roll over to his knees.
"I'm alright. I look a lot worse then I actually am." He replied crawling out of the bedding.
"Well ya look like ya been dragged through a field o' gravel and rose bushes from the state you're in. I really think you should sit down at least, we're pretty safe here."
"Safe?... what is this place?" The young man stumbled to his feet.
"Just a bridge house. But we raised the bridge so the only thing we really have to worry about is the odd hunter or smoker."
"We?" he asked turning his head to the other man.
"Yeah, I got some friends here to. They're actually the ones who saved you. My leg's a little messed up right now... I-I'm okay, I just can't run to well."
"Ah..." the young man gave a slow sigh steadying himself. "Then I guess I owe you and yours a thank you." He walked a little closer to the other man. "I'm Quinn by the way."
"I'm Louis. Nice to meet'cha." the two men shook hands. "Now why don't you sit down Quinn, you look awfully shaky." Quinn slumped down against the wall to sit next to Louis, and gave a grunt of relaxation as he came to the floor. "You looked half dead when they brought you in. Were you in that helicopter we saw go down?"
"Yeah." Quinn said looking down to the ground. "Just a couple people trying to get some place safer... lost some good friends in that one..."
"Hey, I'm sorry to hear that." Louis said patting him on the shoulder. "We lost a man getting the bridge up... tough old guy named Bill. Were you with your friends a long time after the infection struck?"
"Yeah... Pretty much stuck together after it hit. We were all immunes to." Quinn's head sunk in thought.
"Yeah same here. Hell, me, Bill and the others, we went through so much shit together, a big part of me thought we'd always be okay. Like sure we had some close calls, but we always got through. Seeing Bill die to save us though... well, it really put things in perspective for me." Louis' shoulders sagged as he slumped his head against the wall. A moment of silence passed, it was broken by a series of heavy footsteps moving towards them.
"Who all else is here?" Quinn asked looking to Louis.
"You'll be able to see for yourself in a minute. Hey Francis!" Louis called out to a near by window. A large man, nearly six and a half feet tall, very well built, and covered in tattoos awkwardly stepped through the window frame due to his size. He was in black biking jeans and a leather vest to match.
"Kid's awake huh?" he said looking the young man up and down. "How ya do'n?"
"Alright, all things considered." he replied sliding himself up the wall. "Quinn O'Malley." he ended extending a hand.
"I'm Francis." he replied shaking it, passing a shotgun from one hand to the other to do so.
"Where's Zoey?" Louis asked getting to his feet as well.
"She's come'n." Francis said cocking his head to the window he'd entered through. "Haven't been able to get her off that damn tactical rifle ever since she found it." Three loud bangs cut through the air, echoing as they came. "See?" Francis walked over to the window and stuck his head out just beyond it. "Zoey! Get your ass back in here!"
"Jeez! I'm just picking off some ones that got too close Francis!" A young woman's voice called back.
"You've been do'n that fer the last three hours! There's always ones too close!" Francis yelled in return. "Besides, our guest's awake! So get in here before a smoker or somethin' gets 'too close'!"
"Fine!" the young woman called back obviously frustrated. Francis pulled himself back in the window and shook his head. A moment later Zoey clambered in through the window with much more grace then Francis, she was young, looked around late teens to very early twenties, she was just above average height, and had dark hair tied in a pony tail. Quinn stood fixedly staring at her for a moment.
"Hey, I'm Zoey." She paused, looking at him, looking at her. "uh... you alright?"
"Y-yeah-" Quinn stammered. "Sorry. You... remind me of someone... I'm Quinn."
"Zoey. Pleasure." Zoey pulled a large military grade sniper's rifle in with her, it looked very disproportionate to her thin frame, but she didn't move with any kind of awkward stance or shaking as she held it.
Quinn chuckled. "That looks like fun."
"You know it!" Zoey replied with a broad grin shaking some of the rain off it.
"So, what's your story? If you don't mind telling us." Louis asked looking to Quinn.
"Yeah, where ya from?" Francis added sitting down in one of the rooms only chairs.
"Uh, Vancouver, B.C." Quinn replied sitting back down again.
"B.C.? I hate Canada." Francis grumbled looking out the window. Quinn gave him a puzzled and somewhat insulted expression.
"Uh, don't mind him. Francis hates everything for no reason." Zoey said eyeing Quinn's expression.
"Hey! I got damn good reason!" Francis snapped back. "All you Canucks are way to nice for your own good!"
"And how is that a bad thing Francis?" Louis asked raising an eyebrow.
"Let me ask you, how can you live in a town where everyone's a goody two-shoes! You can't get mad at anyone cause they're all so damn nice and forgiving! I'd go crazy in a world where I couldn't get mad at anyone!" Francis crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.
"Right..." Quinn said with a sympathetic expression.
"Anyway." Louis said trying to bring that conversation to an end. "So you're from the great white north huh? What brought you all the way down here?"
"I'm a stunt man. We were shooting a big action flick called 'Time Crisis'. It had everything, explosions, sword fights, fist fights, gun fights, bar room brawls, you name it, this had it." Quinn slumped. "It was my big break... First feature film I got to work on. I'm a sword fighter by trade so this kinda felt like my calling in life." he took a slow almost pained breath. "I even told my girlfriend all about how I was made for this film... Then the green flu struck, and I'm thousands of miles from her... just feels like everything was for nothing..."
Louis patted his back. "Hey, I heard on some C.E.D.A. broadcasts the virus aint doing so well in colder weather, she's probably okay."
"Yeah, but Vancouver's not that cold. There's actually a lot of states colder then B.C." Quinn gave a pained laugh. "But, you're right. I hope she's okay. She's smart, she'd know what to do. I just really regret having left her for this film, this god awful film." He looked over to Louis and held up three fingers. "Three days. That's how long we got to shoot for. Three days. I was stunting and doubling for one of the leads, and then on the fourth, we all nervously go to work, somehow think'n we'll all be okay and open the studio doors to god only knows how many infected!" Quinn slammed his fist into the floorboards. "And they just kept pouring out, all the cast, all the crew, all the P.A.s, set workers, all of them, all infected..."
"That's harsh." Louis said trying to be comforting.
"How'd you wind up here?" Zoey asked walking over to Quinn and sitting across from him.
"Well, me and some of my fellow stunt guys were immunes. We were all crazy martial artists of some form or another, spent the first two weeks just kicking ass to stay alive. Then we found a military patrol with a helicopter, said they'd take us to New Orleans." Quinn looked up into Zoey's eyes, which seemed odd somehow. "On our way out, a hulk zombie chucked half a car at us, hit the side of the chopper, few hours later somethin' blew up on the side we got hit on, and we dropped like a stone." He raised his arms up, and then let them fall back to his sides. "Here I am." he ended sighing.
"Ya sure no one else made it out?" Francis asked leaning in a little. Quinn found his juxtaposition from mocking Canada to concern over if anyone had survived a little surprising, but non the less he shook his head at him.
"Whole chopper was totalled, I honestly don't know how I still have all my limbs and no broken bones, let alone how I survived that... must'a been just in the right part of the frame as it hit..."
"Yeah, I saw it when we went to rescue you. Chopper was in two or three peaces." Zoey said nodding at him.
"Yeah, and guess who had to carry your ass up a rope ladder when we got ya back here!" Francis grumbled.
"... Thank you?" Quinn said slowly.
"See? Look what I get. A thank you! A reasonable person would'a called me an asshole, or at least a prick for saying something like that! All that northern fresh air in your heads just makes you guys crazy." Francis stood up walked across the room.
"What are you? Five?" Quinn asked.
"Don't worry about him." Louis piped up.
"No promises." Francis replied.
"I was talk'n to Quinn, Francis."
"Oh. Well, whatever." Francis stared out the window at the rain.
"So what kind of skill set does a Canadian stunt man come with?" Zoey said taking an interest. "Got any kick-ass moves?" she ended making punching motions in the air.
"I'm a master of European swordplay, and three martial arts." Quinn smiled weakly.
"Really?" Zoey gleefully squealed. "What do you know?"
"Kick boxing, ti-quan-do, and Kung fu. I know quite a bit of european wrestling, and a whole bunch of other stuff. Some first aid to."
"You know proper first aid?" Louis grinned.
"Yeah. Kinda comes with the territory of getting hurt for a living."
"Really? If I give ya five bucks can I hit ya?" Francis chuckled.
"Francis!" Louis grumbled, Zoey laughed. "Seriously though, that's great! I told you guys I had a good feeling about this guy when you brought him in didn't I?"
"Yeah." Zoey and Francis said in unison, Zoey said it with a great deal more positivity then Francis to say the least.
"How bout just every time you say 'eh'? Can I hit you then?" Francis seamed unwilling to leave the earlier conversation. Louis let out a heavy sigh.
"Sure Francis. Every time I say that-" Quinn added with a smirk of cunning. "-you can try to hit me."
Francis grumbled and turned back to the window.
"Its probably best if you don't pay him any mind." Zoey whispered.
"Its alright, I think I'm already getting used to him." Quinn said with a small grin working its way onto his face.
More chapters on the way! Feel free to give me any feed back on my writing style, what you thought of the story, all that good stuff. Thanks for reading!