-Chapter 2-
Just the Beginning

Rochelle peeked outside looking through the bars on the metal door. The landscape unfolding before her didn't differ much from what she spotted three floors above. Aside from the nature of plants and trees, two large CEDA trucks parked outside in front of the building. Fences and barricades were placed in the vicinity, but the obstacles didn't prevent the threat from approaching. A cluster of outhouses aligned the background, but anything beyond that was swallowed in the drifting fog.

Movement outside ceased to exist. The air grew calm and warm. The scene, frozen in place, was like a captured picture of an unforeseen consequence. The outline of a human being slowly came into view, emerging from within the fog, but its irregular gait, stained clothes, and graying skin labeled it as a lone wandering zombie.

Rochelle stepped to the side removing herself from view, but continued to peek. Footsteps approached her from behind, and Nick stood with her by the door keeping his emerald eyes locked with the zombie shuffling across the pavement. Rochelle watched him cock his gun aiming carefully between the bars, as if preparing to shoot. Her heart jumped, and she shook her head drawing his attention as he cast her a sideways glance.

"You might attract more of them if you shoot," Rochelle explained. Nick trailed back to the zombie moving away from them. "For now, they don't know we are here. We should keep quiet until we leave."

Nick shrugged lowering his arms with a slight grin. "As you wish."

Rochelle nodded flashing him a smile, before turning to reclaim her spot by the counter. She slid to the floor, crossing her legs in front of her, and rested her gun across her lap keeping it close just in case.

"Are them zombies still out there, Nick?" Ellis asked from his location on the black foot recliner next to the fake plant. He continued to reload his weapon after stocking on the supplies left behind from other survivors.

Nick huffed, and took a seat on the wooden table next to the door. "It's not like zombies take a vacation, Ellis." He leaned against the wall with one foot supporting his weight on the floor while the other dangled over the table's edge.

Rochelle turned to Coach who chuckled from across the room. He stood by the vending machine hunching over the broken glass, and digging through the few leftover snacks. Rochelle listened to the bags of chips, and granola wrappers crushing in his hands as Coach scooped them out of the machine hugging them against his wide chest.

"We're gonna to be dealin' with them for a while," Coach said, never once looking away from his current task. "Don't expect them to clear anytime soon."

Rochelle lowered her head sucking in the information Coach relayed to them. Don't expect them to clear anytime soon. The words skipped across her mind, and Rochelle sighed. How long are they going to have to endure these zombies? How long are they going to have to fight to survive? Rochelle could only imagine the length of her story, if she ever gets the chance to write one. The article would devour page after page.

Hell, the entire paper.

To help lighten her mood, she pictured Mrs. Harris reading the titles under each section all relating to their current nightmare called reality. Sports: Zombie takes Soccer Ball to the Face. Region: Infection Spreads like Cockroaches. Weather: Sunny With a Chance of Hell. Entertainment: Thriller…All Over Again.

"How far are we from the mall?" Nick asked, breaking Rochelle's concentration and the stretching silence.

"Not too far from here," Coach said, stepping away from the machine and balancing a bunch of goodies in his arms.

Ellis grinned resting his arms on his knees. "Ooh, and there is this gun store on the way too. We should stop in there and pay a visit."

Nick nodded patting his weapon. "Sounds like my kind of place."

"Okay y'all. It's not a buffet, but it's all we got for now. Eat up before we get movin'." Coach walked around the safe room, and passed out snacks from the vending machine he raided.

He collected enough for each of them to have two, and let them choose what they desired from the limited selection. Ellis nagged himself a bag of chips and a package of Peanut M&M's. Rochelle thankfully accepted two granola bars, and watched Nick do the same, mixing between the bar and chips.

Coach returned to the opposite wall with a granola bar, and a Twix remaining in his hand. He leaned against the machine, and took a breather sitting down on the floor. The axe strapped to his back clanked as it met the concrete beneath him. Coach released an exhale, glad to be off his feet, before tearing into the food.

Rochelle chewed on her nutritious snack looking about the room at her new companions. The unusual silence had her body tensing, and she found the need to start up some conversation as they ate. She always found it proper to know a little about the people she worked with, and in this case, those she teamed up with to survive. She knew she could trust them-they helped each other this far-and she couldn't help but fall under the pressure of the underlying information connecting to each of their lives…begging to be told.

"I can't really stand this silence," Rochelle said. Her voice cut through the quiet air. "How about we…contribute something about ourselves? After all, we are working together to get to the evacuation center."

"Sweetheart, I don't think now is the time to relay our personal biographies."

Rochelle's heart doubled at the thought of Nick calling her 'sweetheart' but she abruptly shrugged the thought away. "It doesn't have to be long. It could just be a sentence."

Coach smiled not bothered by the idea. "A sentence won't hurt." He took another bite of his chocolate covered granola bar before starting. "I used to be a football coach at the local high school."

"You sure could have fooled us," Nick joked propping himself fully on the table.

Coach frowned pursing his lips, and ignored Nick's remark. His exhausted eyes turned to Rochelle and he nodded in her direction. "Okay, Ro. How about you?"

"I report stories for a newspaper."

"What kind of stories?" Ellis asked.

"Well, I was sent to cover the strange occurrences happening here," Rochelle explained.

And what strange occurrences they are.

Ellis chuckled tossing a M&M into his mouth. "You must have one helluva story then."

"So far," Rochelle replied fiddling with her empty wrapper.

Coach rubbed his head turning to Nick by the door. "You're up, Nick."

Nick frowned waving them off. "I don't have anything to say."

Rochelle raised her eyebrows, and listened to Coach and Ellis complain at Nick's refusal. She was slightly upset he didn't want to participate in their quick sentence brief, but it left her more intrigued. As a reporter it was her job to discover a story, and for some strange factor-one she couldn't explain-she wanted to uncover his.

"Not one sentence?" Ellis shook his head in disbelief. "Aw, c'mon. Did you live in a hole your entire life?"

"Fine," Nick spat crumbling his garbage and tossing it to the right. "I'm a gambler. Happy?"

The room settled in a quick silence as Coach and Ellis exchanged glances.

"You could have fooled us," Rochelle smirked, backfiring his previous joke.

Nick, taken back by her comment, returned her gaze like he wanted to smile, but fought against it and shook his head.

"I guess it's my turn now." Ellis, now more eager, devoured the rest of his candy. "I was born and raised down here in Savannah. I run an auto shop with my-"

"-Whoa son," Coach interrupted raising his hands the air. "That's more than one sentence."

"I know," Ellis said, tugging on the brim of his hat. "I don't mind explainin' myself."

"Well, continue then," Rochelle urged, content that someone actually wanted to talk.

"As I was sayin', I run an auto shop with my buddies. I'm a mechanic, you know. I work on all kinds of shit…like trucks, compact cars and race cars and-"

"-I think we get the idea, son," Coach interrupted. He looked over at Nick who was shaking his head.

Rochelle's lips curled into a smile as Ellis continued.

"Oh, and I love beer. There ain't nothin' like the feelin' of beer fillin' up your system. I'm in a band too with by buddy Keith and Dave. I play bass. Oh man, did I ever tell you about a time my buddy Keith tried campin' out on top of a buildin' once. He was shootin' crows, but the police were too busy tear gassin' him to ask what he was doin' up there. He screamed for an entire year every single time when he opened his eyes! Oh man! At first it was funny, then it just got sad, but then it got funny again! Oh man!"

Rochelle covered her mouth with her hand, trying to stifle her laughter at Ellis's rambling story, but to no avail. She couldn't help but be amused at his innocence radiating off his smile, and excited bright eyes. Already, she could tell she he was talkative with a bundle of more stories following the one just gave.

At least the trip to the mall won't be so austere and quiet.

She caught Coach's expression who quirked a heavy eyebrow lowering his jaw. His face twisted in both confusion and amusement, but he remained quiet letting Ellis's laughter drown the room. Nick on the other hand, rose from the table and refocused his sights just beyond the safe house door. He positioned himself as their guard watching as more zombies began to cluster the around area outside. He cocked his gun, but minded Rochelle's words from earlier, and waited-merely watching.

"Where were you when the infection seriously broke out?" Rochelle asked gathering her belongings knowing their short rest had just ended.

Soon, we must return back to the dangerous streets. Clearly, this is just the beginning.

"I was down at the diner gettin' a quick bite to eat when all of a sudden people started bitin' other people. I ain't seen no shit like that before in my life. They was bitin' down to the blood, and started talkin' in some other language. No one knew what the hell they was sayin'. People started runnin' around, and shit actin' all crazy. That's when the guns came out. Bullets sprayin', woo! It was like somethin out of an action movie."

Coach nodded tugging on his glove. "Yeah, this used to be a nice neighborhood until we're left fightin' to save our asses."

"Speaking of saving our asses…" Nick echoed over his shoulder. "I think now is the perfect time to get moving before this lovely welcoming committee outside gets bigger." As if his cue, he began firing shots, and a pool of zombies abruptly bombarded the door flaring their arms through the metal bars.

Their clamor of bellows was enough to get Coach back on his feet. "Let's go y'all," he said grabbing his rifle and joining Nick.

Rochelle started to rise, but Ellis moved to her side and offered his hand. He helped her to her feet, and they both exchanged a smile.

This won't be too bad. Rochelle thought. They're all right.

Nick removed the lock, and kicked the door open with no disregard for the three zombies knocked in the face, and thrown back from the door's swing. Ellis cheered raising his gun in the air. He followed Nick and Coach who piled out of the room spraying bullets like a pack of machine guns.

Rochelle stepped out after. Hell, traveling with them might be interesting.


Author's Notes:

I just had to get this updated. Also, after playing the game pretty much everyday I have fallen more in love with Ellis.

Does anyone know what CEDA stands for? I don't remember if they ever mentioned it in the game. I'm just curious.

As always, my apologizes for any mistakes.

-DJ Dork