Harold

Sgt Harold Nakamuri led his team into the burning apartment building. Harold was five foot eight , forty years old, and had a wiry frame. He had black eyes that sometimes came off as cold to people. What they really were was serious. He was Japanese American. With him was Roland Fisher, a reddish blonde haired white male with curly hair and blue eyes. He stood at six feet and was thirty years old. The third team member was Michelle Wilson. She was five foot six, petite in size and had curly black hair and hazel eyes. An African American of twenty seven years of age, she had light skin, caramel in shade. The fourth team mate was Andreas Rojas.

He was a Chicano male about the same shade as Michelle . He had slicked back black hair and a goatee and stood at five foot nine. "What do we got?" Asked Harold. "There's at least five people trapped in there. One senior citizen, two children, a middle aged male and a female."

They made their way inside starting to douse the flames. They put their masks on making their way through. He noticed that there was more fire damage near the windows. Roland put his ax through a door trying to get inside. Andreas helped him. They spotted the two children. A young boy of Puerto Rican descent wearing a red t shirt and blue jeans aged 8 plus a Mets cap, and an African American girl aged 7. The girl screamed. "It's okay! We're here to help!" Called Andreas.

"Where is my mommy?!" She cried. "We're gonna take you to your mommy. What's your name?"

"Rachel...I'm scared...the fire..."

"We'll get you out of there. Just focus on my eyes, okay?" He lifted her up. Roland went up to the boy. "What's your name kid? Mine's Roland. We gotta get you outta here."

"Alfredo...This is our home..."

"We can worry about that later... we need to get you to safety."

The boy looked with fear at the hallway. "No! It's too scary! The fire I can't breathe..."

He turned to the boy with a sigh. He didn't think he was that great with kids but he had an idea looking at his cap. "You like baseball, kid?"

The boy nodded. "You come with me and be brave, I got a surprise for you all right?"

The boy nodded. He picked him up and he and he followed Andreas out of the building.

Meanwhile, Harold and Shantell were putting out as much of the blaze as possible. They doused the flames with white foam while other FDNY members hit the fire from the outside. Michelle found the woman, a woman of Dominican American descent with short black hair and dark eyes and caramel skin standing at five foot five. She was on the floor choking on smoke. Michelle rushed towards her with an oxygen mask. "It's okay, ma'am just breathe..."

She led her out. Harold doused out more of the flames but he knew he had a ways to go. He spotted an old Mexican American man wearing a red flannel shirt with gray hair and light brown skin and overalls. He looked to be about eighty years old. This was not what he found disturbing. He was pinned under a burning bureao his arms and legs on fire. The man was not screaming. He looked up at him with blackened eyes. He seemed to be in pain but his eyes looked to be in a different kind of pain. A pain of want. Of need rather than physical pain.

He put the fire out and called out, "Andreas! I need your help!"

He tried to get the dresser off of him. The old man let out the lowest groan. He crawled towards him. He could tell his legs were badly damaged. He tried to help the man up. He noticed another man walking towards him. Also in flames. This man was ablaze too. He was a middle aged Caucasian male with a receeding hairline. He was completely in flames as well. Harold doused him and threw a blanket around him. "Hold on sir, we're going to get you out of here..."

He didn't understand why the man was not even screaming from pain either. Andreas and Roland arrived back in the building. He looked to see Andreas and Michelle were on their way back up. "Senior citizen top floor! He's badly wounded! I don't think we can save him but we need to get him out of there!"

Michelle cried out, "We're going to need a gurney!"

She and Roland went to help the old man and they were questioning him. The man Harold was helping lunged at him and they took a spill down the stairs. Harold cried out as he fell down hitting his back and shoulder and legs on the way down and he hit his head hard on the railing and then on the ground. The man started to come out from under the blanket. Half the skin was missing from his face. It was worse than a third degree burn. He shouldn't have been able to walk as a matter of fact. He started to get up and walked down the stairs snarling. "Sir, I'm trying to help you. You need to calm down..."

He backed up thinking, How doesn't he feel any of that? I'm in pain and I still have my flesh...

He had blood running down the side of his left temple. Andreas went down the stairs. "Harry, you okay?"

"There's something wrong..." He came down the side and the man bit into his right shoulder. Andreas screamed and hit the guy in the face with the handle of the ax. The man fell over. He tried to pull him down but Roland kicked him down further and the man's skull hit the bottom stair hard. He brought his boot down on the man one more time. Roland and Michelle helped Harold walk out of there. "The old man..." Harold called out.

"Don't worry buddy, we're having other guys go in there for him."

He was soon being sat on the bumper of an ambulance. He was told he had a concussion and would need to take it easy for a few days. As he was being patched up, he saw Andreas being patched up. "You okay?" Asked Harold. "Yeah I'll be okay. I might need to get tested for Aids and shit but I'll be the hell was that back there? That guy shouldn't have been able to be up and around like that. He shouldn't have been alive with that kind of damage..."

Roland sat down saying, "Maybe he was on drugs. Sometimes the body can have delayed responses. I mean bodies still make noises when they're dead. Some people think they see them move or make a sound. It's just the gases being released."

"Is that what you think that is?" Asked Michelle. "Since when does gas make you still walk around when you're burned beyond what any surgeon skin graph or not could save? And I've never heard of anybody that badly burned biting somebody. He should have been in too much pain to even think of biting."

"That's the other thing...he didnt even shiver..." Harold said. "He didn't scream...he barely groaned."

Roland approached Alfredo. "As promised..." He handed the boy a Pedro Feliciano card in mint condition. The boy's eyes lit up. His mom was still hugging him. "What do you say, mijo?"

"Gracias...I mean..thank you."

Roland grinned "De nada."

Harold stood up walking over to him and the EMT told him take it easy and slow. "Hey. What the hell was that back there? You killed that guy,"

"He bit Andreas. Look, no matter what we would have done that guy was a goner. He lost too much skin to survive. There was no way he was coming out of that. I could see his skull, Harry. We've seen some of the worst burn victims that weren't even that badly burned. Remember Jenny Rawlins?"

"Yeah..." The Asian American stated.

"Yeah well I remember her cause I pulled her from that blaze in Long Island. That was one of the worst ones we ever had and she still didn't make it. Held on six months I thought she was going to but she didn't. And then this guy was just walking around with no skin? Come on."

"We still have a duty to try and save them. We're not the police. It isn't our job to try and put them down. Maybe you need to rethink your career choice."

"Hey!" The Caucasian stated. "i've been on this job five years. I may not be that much of a people person but you trust my judgement as much as i trust yours. Now you may think what I did was wrong but Andreas hit him too. With a weapon."

"Andreas is the one who was bitten not you. I understand that was just a reaction. But he didn't bite you."

"Well what if he bit Andreas about an inch or more the other way. He would have gotten his artery and killed him. Now I' sorry if it upsets you what I did, but that man was a goner. There's no reason for Andreas to die too just cause the guy was out of his mind. We're here to protect and help people, that's true but it's just as much about the man or woman next to you. If we save the guy next to us from dying here., we're saving his life and the lives of anybody else he might save in the future."

"You're being ridiculous. The man was dying and panicked. He didn't bite anybody in an artery."

"He knocked you down the stairs and he bit Andreas when you were both trying to help him and you want to tell me he's the victim? No. Sorry thats bullshit. He didn't scream out at any point when we got here."

Harold sighed. "I think I'm gonna go to the hospital after all. I promised Ruth and the kids I'd be home for dinner but I think it might be safer if they kept an eye on me."

Michelle got into the ambulance too. Roland sighed and went to see how Andreas was.

Jackson Heights, Queens

Roberto Villalobos was driving an Escelade down 82nd street. He wore a Pittsburge Steelers jersey with a black bandanna on and under that a Yankees cap. He stood at five foot eleven and a hundred and eighty five pounds. He was of Puerto Rican descent and had a bronze shade to his skin with wavy black hair and a black beard. He was of mestizo stock, rugged but handsome. The was The song Dime by Ivy Queen blasted as they drove. Riding shotgun was John Clemmens though people called him King Johnny. King Johnny was his best friend.

Johnny was African American and stood six foor three. He wore a gold Letterman's jacket and wore a white do rag and sunglasses. He cursed, "Man we aint even get em, son. All that work for nothing they weren't even there."

In the back was one of his homeboys, Pepe Padilla. Tito was a white Cuban and he wore a gold chain and a white t shirt. On his rigt arm was a tattoo that said Mama Tried. On his bicep was a gold crown. On his left cheek under his eye was two tear drops. He had bright blue eyes and a blonde goattee and a shaved head. On his neck was a tattoo of The Caridad del Cobre Virgin. He spoke out saying, "Nah, Jonny we'll get those bitches. Only so many places you can hide."

He was behind Roberto. "Look, I had shit to do today, entiendes?" Roberto said. "I didn't want to be out here on a wild goose chase, could catch a case for the shit we did back there. Matter of fact I know we will, b. So do me a favor, Tito. Shut up."

"Damn bro i was just trying to stay positive."

Behind Johnny was Leon Vargas. He was a brown skinned Mexican American wearing a black puffy coat over a white t shirt and baggy black jeans plus Timberland boots. He had a shaved head and gold earrings in both ears. "It aint even like they're a real mob out here bro. Just a couple of stickup kids on the corner que no? They're just wannabes. Don't even trip."

"Yeah well those wannabes killed our boy. They think they got something to prove. Let's give them something to prove. Only this time I don't want anymore fuck ups. For real. Make sure the next time you think you got a line on these hijo de putas make sure it aint an apartment building full of women and children," Stated Roberto.

The man between Pepe and Leon was like Roberto, of Puerto Rican descent all though his heritage leaned more along the lines of a maroon. He had curly hair and light brown almost yellowish skin. His nose was small but his lips were large. His name was Jesus Cervantes. He wore a Giants jersey and baggy blue jeans. "Hey it aint like they didn't hit some innocents too, bro. They lit up Mrs. Flores and that guy Simon. All to get to Hector."

"Yeah well they did get Hector, motherfucka don't you forget it either," Warned King Johnny. Just then Pepe noticed a Hummer parked in front of a soul food resteraunt. "Hold up, dog. Aint that Ike's cousin's Hummer right there?"

Roberto noticed. "Yup," They started putting masks on and readied their had a Glock 17. King Johnny had two .45 Handguns, Pepe had a .380, Leon had a Remington 870, and Jesus carried a Mac-10. They crossed the street. "They slipping B!" Cried Leon.

Inside, four men were waiting for their order. The first was African American, a scrawny man with a mini Afro and a pick in his hair. He wore a 76ers jersey and blue jeans. The second was a Dominican man with a crew cut wearing a black wife beater blue stonewashed jeans and a gold crucifix. He had dark skin and dark eyes. The third was a Jamaican man with cornrows in a white crisp t shirt and baggy blue jeans plus a white bandanna. The fourth man was of Haitian American descent but he spoke with an American accent. He wore a gray hooded sweater and had a shaved head and dark skin.

The five men burst in and Jesus let off a burst of rounds which hit the man in the wife beater first striking him with sixteen rounds in the back. The man fell dead face down on the table. He emptied the entire thirty round magazine and most of the rounds missed but two strays hit the man in the hoodie in the left arm. The other two hit a female customer, an African American woman of about twenty in the leg. The other ten rounds went wild. The other four mem came in firing but not before the man with the white bandanna had pushed away from the table.

He reached into his waistband and pulled out a .10mm and he fired two rounds one missed but the second hit Jesus in the chest. He ran toward the back near the bathroom letting off five more rounds. Half the patrons ran screaming the other half stayed not wanting to risk getting cut down in the croff fire. The man in the jersey had a .357 which he discharged hitting Jesus once in the right side of the ribs. He ran to the back as well.

The man in the hoodie aimed for Roberto but Roberto let him have it with three rounds to the face. The first round tore into the meat of his left cheek. The second hit him in the jaw and the third hit him in the left eye which dangled out of his eye socket as it tore through the flesh obliterating it.

Pepe took a round in the right arm just grazing him as the man with the 10mm fired. Leon cut him down with the Remington and the blast tore the man's stomach open and he hit the wall sliding down it on his own blood as his pistol collapsed at his side. Roberto aimed for the back of the legs of the man in the 76ers jersey and he hit him three times. Twice in the left leg once in the right.

King Johnny approached the fallen man who was screaming in agony. "Where's your punk ass cousin?!" Demanded Johnny. "He in the projects, nigga! You know that!"

Roberto shook his head. "No we were just there. But he's not gonna have a home to go back to. If you don't tell me some shit I wanna hear neither will you."

"What...?" Leon grinned. "That's right puto. That shit should be looking nice and bright about now."

"This is your last chance. We don';t want you, Jason. We want Ike."

"Suck my..." Roberto and King Johnny fired into him. Roberto fired five shots into him. Three in the gut, two in the head. King Johnny emptied the entire magazine into him. "Suck on this, bitch!" He started to reload. Just then another shot rang out and Pepe was hit in the left hip. The shop owner had fired a .357 at him. Vargas racked another shot and fired hitting the man in the chest. The man, a black man in his late 50's closed his eyes crying out in pain as his apron turned from white to blood red.

The man fell over struggling to breath. Pepe limped over despite his wound. "You fucking punk!" He aimed his pistol at the old man's face. "Please...I was just defending my shop!" Tito growled, "Yea and I'm just defending me!" He fired two shots into the man's already bleeding chest. "Amor de rey!"

He looked and saw the four customers still on the ground. There was a middle aged black man hiding behind a chair, the wounded girl who had taken the stray, and a young Asian American pair of college students, both young women of about nineteen or twenty. They were crying. "Come on, we gotta go!" Roberto said even as Leon was getting into the cash register.

Pepe checked his magazine. "No witnesses..." He fired five shots striking the first of the two college students in the back of the head. The second took two shots in the back. Jesus had lost consciousness as he bled out on the floor. King Johnny shook his head with regret. "I'm sorry, hermano...I'm gonna miss you, money."

Leon fired the shotgun taking care of the man behind the chair. King Jonny checked to see one of the college students was crawling around on the floor. She was short about five four with long brown hair and brown eyes that looked up at him with terror her pink jacket stained with blood which dripped down to her blue jeans in the back. "Sorry cupcake. Wrong place, wrong time."

She was in tears, "Please don't..." She held a hand up but he merely fired and it went through her palm and struck her in the neck silencing her cries as they died down only to a gurling choking sound. Roberto stared in horror at what his friend did. What the fuck, Johnny we weren't here to hurt them just Ike';s crew. "Bro that was too far, man!"

King Johnny was near the door. "Finish her off and let's go!" Roberto told him, "It aint right, mano! She didnt do anything!"

"Nigga if you don't smoke this bitch..."

Roberto sighed. "Fine go get the car started."

He knelt next to her. "I'm not going to kill you but play along..."

He grabbed a ketchup bottle and sprayed it all over her hair. "What...what are you doing?" She whimpered. "Shhh! I'm trying to help. The cops and the ambulances will be here soon. Just play dead until then. And this is gonna be loud but whatever you do don't scream and don't move," He whispered.

He stood up and fired next to her head. She did as he told her even though he knew she had her ear ringing. King Johnny pulled the ride up trying to look inside. He saw some of the crimson stain next to her head. He was freaked out about fingerprints so he pocketed the ketchup."Damn, you got her good, homie. Let's roll before the pigs get here,"

"Damn, Pepe,what the fuck did you have to go crazy for?!" Yelled Roberto. "He shot me first you saw that! Ahhh shit...!"

"You're stupid!" King Johnny told Roberto, "Look, I know it was ugly shit but it had to be done."

"We didn't even get Ike..." Stated Leon. "And we lost Jesus..."

"Yeah but those were a couple of Ike's hitters. They said the fools who killed Hector was like three people plus Ike. The Paper Boyz aint that big of a crew. I know that Dominican guy in there was one of em for sure...man why did that punk have to shoot me...if he'd have stayed his ass down he would have lived."

Roberto snarled, "No he wouldn't have your dumb ass would have used the same excuse to kill everybody up in there,"

"Look, what's done is done. We're already too hot right now," Vargas stated. "We gotta get back to the barrio and lay low. The pigs are gonna be hitting everybody up."

Naomi

She printed her paper out. She sighed with satisfaction looking down at it. She walked out. She got a call on her cellphone. "Hello?"

"Hey, sugar, I'm here."

"You know it embarrasses me when you call me that," She said with a smile. She walked outside of the building and he said, "I think I see you,"

He was wearing a blue denim jacket and blue jeans. She hugged him. "You smell good," He told her. She smiled back saying, "You smell like...outside...back home...the pines..."

They walked together and he walked her back to her dorm. "You ready to head back home?" She nodded. "Yeah. It'll be nice to get away from the city for a while. Too fast paced down here."

"I hear that," Kariwase told her. "Then again, I kind of wonder what it's like down here you know?"

"It's not all it's cracked up to be. I mean don't get me wrong there's some very interesting things to do out here but.." He looked at her. "But?"

"I hate taking the subway," She admitted. He chuckled. "No worries there. We can head back soon but do you want to get a bite to eat before we head back?"

"I could eat," She said sheepishly. "Where do you want to go?"

"Nah you're the lady you decide."

"Hey come on I aint into that feminist crap. We're Indians, enit?"

"You're right so that means matriarchal. Woman's choice."

"Come on it was your idea..."

"True but you're a local now. Come on, anywhere."

"All right...how about Chinese? I know a good place just off Mott Street."

They walked outside and Naomi saw her room mate she was making out in the hallway with a tall Caucasian male in a Varsity jacket. He was a blonde male with blue eyes and broad shoulders. He wore the school's team colors on his jacket and blue jeans. "Hannah..hey. We were just on our way out."

"Is this the guy?"

"I'm the guy...unless there's another guy..." Karisase joked and Naomi rolled her eyes playfully hitting him. "Shut up, idiot. This is Kariwase. Kariwase, this is my room mate, Hannah. And this is her boyfriend, Chad."

"Kariwase, I like your name it's very unique," Hannah complimented. A bit coy and aloof at the woman's compliment, he said, "Thanks I guess..."

Kariwase reluctantly offered his hand and shook the hands of both. "Where are you two headed?" Asked Hannah.

"We're just going for a night out before we have to head north."

"Yeah but you still got time before Christmas. You don't have to head all the way Upstate yet do you?" Asked the blonde. "No but we gotta get a head start. Beat the traffic," Stated Kariwase. "Well you'll still have plenty of time to get up north. You should drop by our party if you have time later. I won't get between your dinner together I'm just saying if you have time."

Kariwase was silent but Naomi said, "I don't know if we'll have time. I mean, we'll see."

"Hey it'll be fun. There's beer, music, all that good stuff,"

"She doesn't drink. I don't think he does either..." Hannah told him. The guy looked at them in shock. "Seriously?"

Hannah smacked him. "Shut up! Look it's totally fine if you don't. I won't pressure you to."

"Hey you're kind of a big guy. You play football?"

"Nope. Baseball as a kid basketball as a teen and Lacrosse now. I still play the other two here and there. But not on a team anymore."

"That's too bad, dude you look like you could be a line backer,"

They each bid farewell and Kariwase began to drive her into the city.

One Police Headquarters,

Lower East Side

Malcolm

The door finally opened and two Detectives came in. The first was a Caucasian male of about five foot eight in his mid forties with bright red hair brown eyes and wrinkles. He wore a plain brown suit and brown dress shoes. The second was a Caucasian female with dark brown hair and blue eyes, a petite woman in her early 30's.

"Mr. Hightower this is Detective Rebecca Genovese and I'm Winston Cogburne. We'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Lawyer..."

"You're not in any trouble. We just want to ask you a few questions about what happened to your friend, Tito Gonzales. The woman who attacked him was quite unstable. She bit two other officers on her way here and she had to be hog tied. There's something very wrong with her."

"If you know that much, it seems like you don't even need my help. Lawyer,"

The female stated, "If you didn't do anything wrong you got nothing to worry about."

"Lawyer."

"Did she appear to be under the influence of any drugs?" Asked Detective Genovese. "Lawyer."

"Innocent people don't need lawyers,"

Malcolm smiled thinking, That might work with frat boys from Colombia U but that aint gonna work on me. "Lawyer.

"You know all about drugs, don't you, Mr. Hightower? We understand you used to be a member of the United Blood Nation. We know you and Mr. Williams are members of the Nine Trey Gangsters."

"Nope. Not me. Lawyer."

"You've been arrested in the past for dealing narcotics."

"Lawyer."

"So tell me what happened. Did you sell the lady a bad batch of drugs? You got her on bath salts?"

"Lawyer."

Detective Cogburne sighed. "Look, I personally don't think you did anything but my partner doesn't seem sure. My thing is, I know you were arrested last week at a protest. And that's when all of this went down. Are you now afiliated with any Anarchist groups or Marxist groups within the occupy movement?"

"Lawyer."

The male left the room and went to go see about getting him a lawyer. "If it turns out you did have anything to do with this, you're both going down."

"Lawyer."

"You think it's just that woman? We've had at least ten cases since yesterday of people reporting being bitten. Selling crack cocaine is one thing. But lets say hypothetically you really have stayed out of trouble. Your friend Sean hasn't. You may buy into this whole fight the power craze going on but Sean isn't. Even if you don't bang, your friend still does. Somebody truly wanting out of the lifestyle would cut off all ties to people still in it."

"Lawyer. Does this good cop bad cop routine usually work?"

"Sometimes. Look, you're free to leave. We're not holding you under arrest. I just think that whatever your intentions are, Sean is not a reformed man."

"So I'm free to go?"

"Sure. But Sean is under arrest. We found drugs on him. He's not going anywhere until he talks."

"Then get him a lawyer. I know he didnt consent to any search. That aint his style so if you did find something on him you searched him without consent. That's a violation of his civil liberties."

"Suddenly everybody's a lawyer. Maybe if you ever end up in front of a judge you should represent yourself," She said with an amused smirk.

"He's not going to talk to you. And I might not be under arrest but I'm not going anywhere until I see that he gets his lawyer. Whatever you might have found on him, you have nothing. You have a protocol you have to follow. If you searched him without his consent, you broke the law. That's part of what these protests are about. It's not just about holding the rich accountable. It's about holding police accountable too. Remember Sean Bell? Yeah I know you motherfuckers remember Sean Bell."

"Oh let me guess the guy who shot him was racist, right? Even though one of the officers was black."

"Yeah just like Rodney King, right? It wasnt just the four officers on trial too. There was Uncle Tom's in on that shit too. You can't fool me with body politics."

"Be that as it may, Sean Bell was hanging around a bad crowd. Just like you."

"For your information, I'm a student at Colombia U. I aint no banger anymore. I busted my ass off to get in there. I won't have somebody like you telling me what's what. Anyway, my boy better get an attorney. Or you got a law suit on your hands."

Jacob

NYU Langone Medical Center,

The East Indian youth hesitated. He knew his parents were waiting for him. He'd been grateful to get the ride to the hospital but he was not thrilled about seeing his parents again. At least not his father. Deepak Patel was known to judge just about anybody but especially him.

He was sitting down waiting and his father came out. His father was five foot ten and had very dark skin, short black hair and brown eyes. He was forty four years old.

He also saw his mother. She wore a black blouse with a red scarf and blue jeans. She had much fairer skin than his father. It was a light golden brown hue almost a peach color while her eyes were blue. She was from India herself but her eyes and features gave away her mixed ancestry. She tood at five foot seven. Her name was Abishta.

He hugged them both and he saw his older brother, Richard. Richard, had much of the same features as his father but he was younger but twice as arrogant usually when talking to Jake. He also had a sister named Ratna his older sister plus his younger sister, Chanda. Ratna was not here but would be meeting up with them later.

"Ah hello my son. You are late."

"Sorry dad...my car isn't here."

"Ahh.. kyon aap ek taiksee lene ke lie nahin kiya?"

(Why didn't you take a cab?)

His mother expressed concern, "Aap yahaan kaise pahunche?"

"Main ek sahayaatree se ek savaaree maan mila hai. vah ek achchha ladaka tha,"

"Hitchhiking?" His father echoed in a troubled tone. "Do you know how dangerous it is to do that you could have been killed there are escaped inmates out there. They could have killed you."

"Yeah but dad, the inmates would be hitchhikers too not the guys picking up hitchhikers. "

Richard sneered, "What's wrong with your car? Why don't you just get another one? Hitching is for bums."

"Why don't you have money for a taxi cab, son? Did we not give you enough money for college? If you need something, you can always call us but I hope you are not up there partying and wasting money."

"Oh please, Jake doesn't have any friends to invite him to one," Sneered his brother. "If he can't even take care of his own car he doesn't need a new one or money for a cab. Why can't we just have our family reuniuon without him? He always wants to get away from us anyway. Why couldn't we just get Ratna back in instead and let him go do whatever he wants to do?"

"The car is in the shop, asshole. I don't need your input. The bar exam is really hard."

"Then you should have become a doctor..."

"Watch your mouth, Jacob," Warned Deepak. "Where's Chandra? At least one person will be happy to see me,"

"Where is your sister?" Asked Deepak glancing at Richard. "I don't know. She said she was going to the vending machine, I think."

"Why would she do that? There's nothing but junk food there," Deepak complained.

He saw his little sister finally and smiled as she came back with a bag of Skittles. Her father snatched them up and trashed them. "What did i tell you about junk food? This stuff rots your teeth and it has gelatin in it."

"Come on, dad can't we take a break from being vegan for once? It's not like it's a pork chop,"

"It's still pork product."

She rolled her eyes and Jake said, "Come on, dad I don't think one bag of skittles is going to get rid of all her teeth."

"I'm the father not you. When you pay the bills around here, you make the choices, college boy."

He smiled at his sister who smiled back. She was seventeen years old and very pretty. Unlike Richard and his other sister Ratna who looked more like their father, while Jake looked a bit like a cross between the two as despite being darker he had lighter brown eyes than his father and yet darker than his mother's she looked more like their mother in skin tone though a bit darker she was a lighter shade of brown and had her mother's chocolate brown hair and the same smile. Her eyes however, were the same as Jake's. She wore a black tank top and a turtle shell necklace and blue jeans. She stood at five foot three., She hugged Jake who grinned.

"I missed you bro!" She said kissing him on the cheek. "I missed you too. How are you doing in school?"

"She got a C," Her father said with some annoyance in her voice. She scoffed. "Come on, dad it was only in science. I passed in every other class."

"Yes but you got B's last report card before you were getting all A's."

Abishta tried to be the peace maker. "We don't have to fight now. We are a family. We haven't seen each other in a long time."

Deepak sighed. "Yes you are right. I just want them to do well. I don't want Chandra to get Jacob's studying habits. I just need to get my stuff then we go out to eat."

Chandra sighed. "More three bean chili. Fucking yay,"

"Watch your language!" Both parents said in unison while Jake and even Richard smirked at that. "You've been hanging around the wrong kinds of kids, we are going to have a talk about this later," Stated Abishta. "What did I tell you about profanity?"

"That it makes me look like I'm unintelligent and can't express myself in any other way," Said Chandra in annoyed tone. "Listen to your mother. She knows these things," Said Deepak.

As soon as his parents and Chandra were out of ear shot, Richard leaned in asking, "When are you going to get your shit together? Quit disappointing the family. If you want to be a lawyer then buckle down and make an effort. Quit playing video games for Christ sake you're an adult act like one."

Jake smiled angrily then said, "You want to know when i'm going to get my shit together, Richard? The day you have an original thought of your own instead of just copying dad. You even dress like him."

"It's called being a good son and a responsible adult. Not that you would know anything about that."

"More like a responsible sheep," Retorted Jake.

"Are we ready to go?" Asked Abishta. "Yeah i am," Stated Richard. "Same here," Jake replied. Their father nodded. "Good. Ratna is waiting for us. She just flew in."

Kariwase

Chinatown

They were sitting across from each other and he said, "Look, if you want to go to the party we can. I dont want to keep you from it."

"That's okay. We don't have to," She said. "It's stupid. I don't drink you don't drink i mean Hannah's my friend but I don't like a lot of the people she hangs out with. And you don't like jocks or frat boys. How is that anyway?"

"How is what?" The Mohawk college student asked. "You don't get along with jocks even though you kind of are one. At least in the sense that you played basketball and baseball and you still play Lacrosse."

"Well shit, that's a sport of the Longhouse. I pretty much had to even though I thought it looked stupid. But my dad had me try it and it wasn't so bad. Hockey is okay too and t's not sports i'm against so much as the mentality of it. I like to play it I just don't like to watch it. I get the feeling most Football fans are living vicariously through the rich assholes on TV they have nothing to do with."

"Well hey I played on the girls basketball team in High School and I think it's great to learn team work."

"Yeah but it's not like you couldn't get that somewhere else. Shit, you learn team work being in the military or a gang too. Doesn't make either a reason to do it just for that. Shit, you can get that just from having a steady job."

"Well what do you got against jocks, anyway?"

"It's more football players in general. I was always a big guy but people picked on me regardless cause I didn't want to play. I just think this country is too obsessed with football. Just like the other side of the border is with hockey. I know jocks in any kind of sports can be a dick but when I was in school the bullies were always the guys in the Lettermans jackets. The football players. They picked on the nerdy kid. I might have been an athlete but I'm just as much of a nerd. I'm a man of science. I had to stick up for myself and for other guys getting picked on by them."

"Yeah well Chad isn't like that. He just drinks a lot. Parties a lot but I never got the bullying vibe from him."

"Yeah well, as much as people say how mean Indians are when drunk, white guys aint exactly nice either. Irish, Scottish, German, whatever. When they get drunk they're about one beer away from yelling yeehaw and rounding up a posse to start shit."

"Why do you gotta make it about race? It's not like back up north where they're jerks. This isn't Mississippi. People are pretty cool in the city and despite what people think most New Yorkers are polite."

He smiled saying, "Well you and me are from New York whether or not we ever set foot in the Big Apple or not."

She smiled back, "You knew what i meant. Anyway, we don't have to go I'm just telling you it's not what you think. It's not like High School you don't gotta fight anybody."

"Well just be honest with me," He said. "Do you want to go the party? i mean how many have you gone to since you started college?"

"Honestly...? One. Just a Halloween party last year it was pretty fun. I smoked a few joints but i didn't drink. What about you?"

"None," He admitted sheepishly. "What can i say i'm anti social."

"Yeah but i bet you make it to every Strawberry festival and Great Law Recital you can."

He chuckled. "Guilty as charged. Well not every time but look I don't have much of a social life that's true but i'm with you so i don't need one. I got a few friends up there on campus but most of my family's back home."

"if you say so. I understand though. Trying to keep the language alive and the kids learning it."

"Yeah I do what I can. Trying to save the Tuscarora language too. Anyway, you didn't answer my question."

"I thought i did? I went to a Halloween party,"

"I didn't mean that I meant did you want to go tonight? We can still get where we need to go if you wanna have one last night in the city we can. I'm open to it. I'm willing to try for you."

She smiled putting her hand on his. "I appreciate that. Well if you'll go with me then my answer is yes."

One Week Earlier

Ossining New York

I-87

Two Caucasian males still had their chains on them. Their prison bus had crashed. One of them was Logan Hayes, and the other was the Wall Street Butcher. The Wall Street Butcher had actually been a man who worked on Wall Street himself. Patrick Easton was his name. He had gone on a killing spree however and had killed at least 40 people, many of them homeless people and prostitutes but also a few wall street people as well. Both men had been condemned to die by the state but they had broken out. The fat ass driver had a heart attack and this had given them a chance to bust out killing the other guard. The other inmates had gone their own way.

Logan himself had been a lifelong member of the Aryan Brotherhood. He had been paroled five years ago unlike most but he had fucked up and was right back on his way to prison. He had to stop off at a Brotherhood safe house in Manhattan as risky as it was. After all, that would be his ticket out of the country. He didn't know where he would go. Preferably somewhere very far away, and white. He had thought of all the Western and Northern European countries but also had briefly considered South Africa. Anything beat getting executed.

They had escaped and the guards were dead. It had not been easy to pull off but they now had a shotgun at least. "We need a new change of clothes,," Easton stated. "Tell me something I don't know. But we aint going anywhere without a car. And we need to get this damn chain off. We sure as hell shouldn't have let the other guys go too."

"Yeah well if the cops are looking for them too, it's less of a chance they'll find us. Killing them would have only given them more incentive to find us and charge us with an extra murder."

"Not that you need one. Forty people. You need some help you sick fuck," Said Logan. "You've killed too, Hayes don't start with me."

"Yeah but the people I killed were men. Not call girls."

"You should be happy. Some of the bums I stabbed were black. Of course, that's not the reason I did it. I'd have killed them no matter what color they are. Homeless people smell like shit. They disgust me."

"Yeah but none of the call girls you carved up were."

"Listen are we going to argue or are we going to get the hell outta here? I have to get a fake passport too ya know. It was my idea to try this."

"I go with plan B," Stated the prison gang member as he racked the shotgun waiting for the right moment to car jack somebody when the moment was opportune.

Malcolm

He approached the officer at the front desk. "Hey, your soda machine ate my money up and didn't give me anything,"

"Did you try another flavor?"

"Yeah! I tried all the flavors and it still wouldn't cough it up. I want my money back."

"Sorry, kid. Not ,my problem. Aint us who owns the machines it's the company."

"How you gonna say that when their machines are in your police station? Gimme a break. I know one of ya'll got a key at least. You should either open the vending machine like I've watched people do a million times when theirs aint working and give me my soda or give me back my money."

The cop went back to the book he was reading, a John Grisham novel. "Not my problem."

Asshole...

He was hoping Sean's lawyer would be along soon. His ass was starting to hurt from sitting and he wanted to go home. Just then, he saw somebody in the holding cell bite into another person's neck. The man screamed, "AHHH SHIT! GET HIM OFF ME!" The biter was a Dominican American while the man being bitten was Irish American a man in a red shirt blue jeans and a gray jacket with blonde hair and gray eyes. The cop got up from his desk. "Shit..."

Malcolm looked in a panic as the cop went in followed by more cops. They began to hit the guy with billy clubs. He worried for Sean.

Harold

His family had come to meet him at the hospital. His wife, Ruth , was an African American woman with caramel colored skin and curly hair. She hugged him saying, "We were so worried..."

His son and daughter was also there. His son had wavy hair and a skin tone similiar to his mother but eyes like Harold while his hair was a mix of the two. He was fifteen years old. His daughter looked more like Harold but had her mothers lips. His son's name was Luke while his daughter's name was Haruna. She was seventeen. "I'm okay...just a little bump on the job but better safe than sorry."

He rubbed his son's hair. "How ya doing, sport?" The boy told him, "I'm okay..PE sucked. We had to just run laps."

Harold chuckled. "Cant win em all. How about you, honey?" Haruna smiled, "Got an A in history," He chuckled hugging her. "That's my girl."

He turned to Ruth. "I'm sorry if I worried you. I didn't mean to. What were we having?"

"Lasagna."

"Damn. Of all the days to get a concussion it had to be lasagna day?"

"Oh come on now baby you know we got leftovers for ya and if you need I can always make it again," She said with a smile. "I'm just glad you're okay,"

He noticed that Roland and Michelle were outside his room and he had to wonder what was wrong but he got the feeling something was.

That's all for chapter 2 I know this is moving slow but that's the way the outbreaks started so this is still going at least as rapidly as it would on Fear TWD and in the event of an actual outbreak it's just Rick was in a coma for when it was new for them in Atlanta. Anyway, onto the characters.

Roberto is visually based on Adam Rodriguez from CSI Miami and I Can Do Bad All By Myself. Pepe is visually based on Pitbull, the rapper. Like all rappers imo atm he sucks. But I thought he might fit into this anyway.

Tom Towles is the visual basis for Logan who is kind of based off his role in Blood In Blood Out he's like the Merle of this story as for the other guy, the Wall Street Butcher, well let's just say you'll see but the thing about that is everybody wonders how gang members, medics cops soldiers and civilians would do but I for one think a serial killer is over qualified to survive. While working with a group may not exactly be their strong suit they would be used to killing. All though usually they make for an antagonist rather than as a character who is supposed to be on the "Good" side so it will be interesting to show how that plays out.

And as far as Logan I won't say who but lets just say he's related to one of the characters in my other story Northwestern Chronicles which I'm not ready to update yet but hopefully soon.

I decided Malcolm should be based on Omar Epps younger obviously, and Detective Genovese is visually based on Carla Cugino. Not sure about Cogburne.

Dev Patel from Rules Of Engagement and Slumdog Millionaire is the basis for Jake, Aishwarya Rai is the basis for Jakes mother, Deepak is based on Aasif Mandvi from The Internship, Richard is based on Kal Penn. Chandra is visually based on Summer Bishil.

As for why Jake's family don't eat meat it's because their religion is Jainism. A lot of people when they write characters with a background like his, they make them Hindu but I thought i'd go the road less traveled. A good Hindu is expected to not eat meat too all though some do they can get away with eating chicken and pork but eating beef is obviously taboo. As far as Jainism on the other hand, for one I'm pretty sure they're all expected to not eat meat and they also have a non violence philosophy. Which, so does Hinduism usually but the difference is wen there has been religious conflicts in India where Muslims attack Hindus Hindus, not unlike Buddhists do defend themselves.

Jainism seems to be more along the line of pacifism as say Hare Krishna which i could be wrong and if you say i am and you know then correct me but in any case, being that Jake and his family come from a religion that basically practices no harm doing, it's seeing how they will deal with the zombies. I know your initial judgement will be not well at all but you'll be surprised at how they adapt. Especially since zombies are no longer living but still it will come as more of a conflict when they have to war with other factions. However on the meat eating too they'll have to compromise when it's down to say, cans of tuna or whatever they gotta be less picky. The same is true for a meat eater who may not eat veggies.

One thing I can tell you though, so far is all though Jake does try and listen to his father and please his family and has tried to study to be a lawyer he has actually broken that no meat taboo when at college along with some other ones. He basically tries to obey his father but unlike Richard he feels nothing he does is ever good enough for his father. His other sister, his older sister will be introduced next chapter.

Roland is visually based on Cole Hauser, Michelle is visually based on Rochelle Aytes, Andreas is visually based on Jay Hernandez. I was thinking of making Harold be visually based on either Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa or Hiro Kanagawa but honestly I was thinking more of Hiro than Cary I think it suits Harold more as Harold is 40. I'm not saying Hiro is that young but he's the closest actor that somewhat resembles my health class teacher that was an EMT whom Harold is based on. So yeah. Hiro. Also Ruth is based on Kerry Washington, specifically, her look from Save The Last Dance.

Honestly strange at it is despite hair color, I could see even Cole Hauser playing a better Chris Redfield from Resident Evil rather than the guy from Prison Break. He has that sort of same kind of haircut in some movies as Chris did in RE 1. If you're not a fan of Resident Evil this may be over your head which is fine but this is for those who are fans of both RE and TWD. I mean he has that sort of authoritative vibe of a cop or a soldier. I'm just saying if you were gonna cast somebody who looked not really like him at least he would still be truer to the character in the essence of it. Personally, I don't know who I would actually cast to play each character as if I had a say in a Resident Evil movie that didn't blow cock. I might have idea for some of the women but the men i draw a blank on. I'd be open to what Zilla would say.

Next chapter, Kariwase and Naomi will go to that party, Harold will find out what the status is of Andreas which you can figure is not good, Malcolm and Sean will escape from the police station, Jake will have dinner with his family and Roberto will have to deal with the consequences of burning a building down plus the shooting they committed.

Also I will admit Patrick Easton is based on Christian Bale's character from American Psycho, Patrick Bateman much like in my possibly soon to be discontinued story Episodes From LS. I just enjoyed that character so much and thought what if we saw more to him than just that movie? And can he use his powers of evil for good?

Also, I'm willing to take OC's as an idea just like my last story but they can't be too powerful to the point of being unrealistic. In other words no Alice Abernathy's. What I need is basically

age, height, weight, gender, ethnicity or physical description,occupation before outbreak, skills, weaknesses, sexual orientation, personality, hometown, and why they would be in New York City in the first place if they are not originally from there.

As for the every day sorta things being shown up to the apacolpyse im going for the same kind of feel as Fear TWD for that decline into madness.

As far as Roland and what he did let's just say he's a lot like Shane in that he's a realist except he'd be like Shane if Shane never tried to kill rick he wont try and betray Harold.

Anyway til next time