Alright, so I've been getting super nice reviews. :) I reply to everyone, because you all are the bomb. So, thank you to everyone who has left reviews, and everyone who's reading this story at all!

~*~xo~*~

"Hey. Dumbass. Hey, you in the tank. Cozy in there?"

Blaine freezes. Am I imagining this? Is there actually a person on the radio talking to me? After he hesitates for a moment, the radio hisses again, followed by the voice that had already just spoken.

"Dude, are you alive in there?"

Blaine immediately takes action, crawling over to the radio and picking up the speaker. "Hello?!" he gasps out, "Hello, are you still there?"

The person on the radio replies, sounding a bit relieved, "Oh, there you are. Thought I lost you for a second there."

"Who are you? Where are you?" Blaine asks, panicked.

Ignoring the first question, the man answers, "I'm on a rooftop overlooking the streets. All was well up until some dude in a police uniform starts running through the streets, waving his arms and screaming like an idiot. It's no wonder he got himself trapped in a tank surrounded by walkers. Dumbass."

"Walkers?"

"Yeah. It's what we call those undead bastards."

"Okay… got any advice for me?"

"The best I got? I say make a run for it."

Blaine narrows his eyes. "That's it? Make a run for it? That's the best you've got?"

The man on the other end responds very quickly, "Hey, it's not as crazy as it sounds. The walkers seem to be grouped together near the north side of the tank; they're less concentrated on the other side. That's where you need to run. You with me so far?"

Sighing, Blaine answers, "Yeah. So I somehow leave the tank, run towards the south side, and hope for the best?"

"There's an escape hatch at the very top of the tank. Just open it, jump out, and start sprinting the fuck away. I'll meet you by the nearest gate to your right and you'll follow me. Got it? And whatever you do… try not to shoot your gun anymore. It attracts them. I'm on my way down to the gate right at this moment, so hurry your ass up before the walkers scatter back out."

Blaine nods his head, not taking it into account that the person can't see him. "Alright, I got it." Looking up towards the ceiling of the tank, he spots the small circular door. He then focuses his attention back to the radio. "Hey, what's your name?"

"Didn't you hear me? You have to go right now. Move your ass!" The radio clicks off, signaling that the man has disconnected. Blaine puts the speaker down, quickly crawling over to the hatch. Standing up, he pushes at the door, opening it and crawling out.

The door hits the metal of the tank when Blaine slams it open, alerting the walkers that he's exiting it. They all turn to him, now focusing on getting to the top of the tank. Not giving them the chance, Blaine crawls to the edge of the tank near the less concentrated side, quickly sliding off and onto the ground. He wastes no time in running, knowing that the walkers will close in on him at any second. His eyes frantically search for the gate the man was talking about. It'll be to the right. That's what the man told him.

Darting his eyes to the right side of the street, Blaine spots a small alleyway blocked off by said fence. Luckily, the fence is open so he'll be able to get inside once he reaches it. But, where is the guy he was talking to? He's very excited to meet the man, he hasn't seen anyone at all for a while, and it'll be quite a relief to meet someone who doesn't want to eat him.

Miraculously, after dodging all the zombies chasing him, Blaine finally makes it to the gate. He quickly sprints through, turning around and shoving the gate closed. He knows it won't hold for long, so he runs down the alleyway, looking for the man who said he would be here. Farther down the alley, he spots a man running towards him. He looks pretty built, and has a Mohawk; which makes him look pretty badass. It's obviously the man he was talking to, who else could it be? Without hesitation, Blaine runs faster, waving his arm in the air to attract his attention, even though it already seems as though the man sees him.

The two men finally reach each other, the one yelling to Blaine, "Let's go! Follow me; we have to get the hell out of here!" Blaine nods, turning his head around to look behind him. To his horror, the walkers have already broken through the gate, and are about 20 feet from reaching him.

"Oh, shit!" Blaine exclaims, breaking into a run after the Mohawk man. Upon reaching a ladder, Mohawk Man starts to climb it at rapid speed, with Blaine following quickly behind. They climb far up the ladder to the very top of the building. They're extremely high up, which makes Blaine extremely nervous… but at least it would be the fall that kills him, not the walkers.

Once at the top, Mohawk Man offers Blaine his hand, helping him up. They stand there for a few moments, leaned over with their hands on their knees, trying to catch their breaths. Blaine looks over at the other man, nodding his head in appreciation. "Thank you, sir. I would have been so screwed if it weren't for you. Like, really. Thank you."

Mohawk Man smiles wide, holding out his hand. "Don't mention it, bro." Blaine reaches his hand into the other man's hand, shaking it. "You're still a dumbass, though. You do realize that your gunshots are going to attract every walker in the city right to our building, right?"

Blaine nods his head gravely, breaking their eye contact to look at the floor. "Yeah… I'm really sorry about that. I panicked, they were everywhere." Mohawk Man nods his head in understanding.

"I got you, man. To be honest, I'm looking for any excuse to get the fuck out of this building. Maybe the walkers will be enough encouragement for the rest of my group to want to at least try to leave."

"What's your name?" Blaine suddenly asks, "You never told be over the radio. I'm Blaine, by the way."

"Puck."

"Puck… It's very nice to meet you, Puck. So, what were you saying about the rest of your group? There are others here?"

Puck nods, "Yeah. Three others. There are Mike, Sam, Ryder, and Santana. You may have to watch out for Santana. She already knows you're here, and she's absolutely pissed that you fired that gun. Seriously, man. Brace yourself."

Blaine takes a deep breath, rubbing his hands together. "Duly noted. So, are we going to meet these people? I kind of need to, like… sit down. My legs are killing me."

Nodding his head, Puck gestures towards a door, leading to what was probably a stairwell. "Follow me, they're inside." With that, he walks over to the door with Blaine following closely behind. Opening the door, both men walk inside and down the stairs leading to the bottom of the building. Puck leads Blaine down a couple of hallways, and before long, to an open door. Blaine can hear voices inside, his spirits instantly lifting. He never thought he'd see another person again, let alone more than one.

As they walk into the room, the people inside instantly turn their heads, looking over Blaine. There's an Asian man, a blonde man, a brunette man, and a Latino woman. The Latino woman that Blaine guesses to be Santana looks absolutely pissed. He steps back and widens his eyes in surprise as she steps forward, pointing the gun she was holding in his face.

"That's him?!" The woman yells as she walks forward. "Esta bien, ¡déjamelo a mi!" she screams pushing Blaine into the wall, pinning him back and pushing the gun's barrel to his forehead. "¿Es este el pendejo que estaba disparando esa arma y gritando por las calles? ¡Estamos muertos por ti! ¡Te voy a matar por esto! Nos arruinaste, ¡Estamos rodeados!"

"Woah! Woah, that's enough, Santana!" To Blaine's relief, the blonde man steps forward, grabbing Santana and pulling her off of him.

Santana shoves the blonde away, exclaiming, "No me toques, mierda!" She shoots Blaine a glare, practically seething at the mouth. He puts his hands up in defense, trying to calm her down.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to shoot at the things, but they were on my ass! I had no other choice; I can get us out of here, if that's what you want. I promise, I'll think if something. I don't want to be here anymore than you do," Blaine says in the calmest voice that he can manage. Truthfully, he's afraid of Santana's wrath.

Santana shakes her head, putting her gun down. "We're dead. All of us. And it's because of you. All I want is to get back to my fucking girlfriend and protect her from these evil bastards, but I'm going to die here."

Blaine frowns, "I'm sorry, Santana. I truly am. To be fair, I need to get out of here for the same reason as you do. All I am right now is a man trying to get to the love of his life, who he hasn't seen in months. Anything or anyone who tries to get in the way of that is going to lose. So, can we work at actually getting out of here? All of us? I'd really like to learn the rest of your names, too, if that's alright."

The Asian man speaks up, muttering, "I'm Mike."

"Sam," the blonde man supplies.

Finally, the brunette speaks. "Ryder's the name."

Smiling softly, Blaine nods at the men. "Nice to meet all of you. What's the story here?"

Puck speaks up, "We're half of another group. They're all situated far away from the city in a camp. The strongest of the group—that's us—ran off into the city to find help and supplies. We've actually been trapped here for a couple of days. The walkers have been around, but they didn't really become riled up until you came along. You kinda just rang the dinner bell, man." Santana scoffs, rolling her eyes and turning her head away.

"You're damn right he did," she hisses out.

Ignoring Santana, Blaine turns to Puck. "What are those things, by the way? They look like people… but they don't."

"That's because they're not," Sam offers, "They were, but they've changed… into whatever they are now. Zombies, I guess. Trippy, right? It's like a horror movie coming to life." Sam looks a little more intrigued with all this than any of them do.

Pursing his lips, Blaine slowly nods. "Yeah… trippy."

Mike steps forward, "Alright, guys. We have to talk about how to get out of here. Blaine. You said you could help us?"

The group all turn to Blaine, waiting for his answer.

"Yeah," he mutters, "I have an idea. It might be a long-shot, though."

Santana crosses her arms. "We're listening."

~*~xo~*~

A big thanks to my friend Andrea who translated Santana's lines into Spanish for me. For those of you who cannot speak Spanish (like me), here's a little translation: "Alright, let me at him! Is this the asshole who was shooting off that damn gun and yelling through the streets? We're all dead because of you! I'm going to fucking kill you for this! You screwed us, we're surrounded!" " Don't fucking touch me!" …Good old Santana ;)

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