Nick closed the bedroom door, taking great care to be as quiet as possible; both Molly and Mike deserved some rest, after all. And, and top of that, Nick smiled to himself, Molly could be quite cranky if she wanted to be. Not so much Mike, but still. The less friction the better.

For a few silent, lonely moments, Nick didn't move away from the door; he just stood there, staring at it, quickly losing all sense of time and reality; lost in the world, as he imagined it, around him.

According to reports, there were over an estimated four billion of the "zombies" or whatever they were called, running around out there. And only about two billion flesh and blood humans left to stop them. Or to even survive them at all. How could it happen so fast?

Zombies. Nick smiled once again at the word. Truth be told, he only referred to them as that in the first place because he didn't know what else to call them. He also thought that calling them by the scariest (formerly completely fictional) term he could think of, it would make the rest of the group as weary as possible of them; make them keep there guard up.

Now zombie was the actual, official term... How the world works...

And now, with his father (the policeman) probably killed in action (he had left on call very early this morning; an entire life ago, it seemed) and his mother (who worked at a bank) also missing, and more than likely dead, Nick had very little left. He was an only child, and for that, especially now, he was grateful. Unlike Chad, who had an older brother and younger sister, and Molly, who's older brother was long gone to college, Nick had little else besides parents to lose.

And the rest: Ashley, Tracy and Ali; who did they have to lose?

What the others must be going through...

Reality snapped back like a whip, and Nick realized (with slight embarrassment) that he was staring blankly at a door.

He was supposed to be getting rest. Who knew what would happen later? Who knew what everyone here would have to be ready for? Nick also thought, with slight distaste that he should also get something to eat, though he wasn't in the least bit hungry. Maybe later...

Nick turned to his left, and picked the bedroom in between the guest bedroom and the stairs, and went inside.

This was obviously the bedroom of Ashley's male cousin, (whatever his name was) who was probably in his very early teens judging by the decoration of his room; not really Nick's style (or even near his age group) and he wasn't exactly pleased with it. Not to mention that the owner of this room, was more than likely dead (or worse) and that thought alone was enough to make Nick desire greatly to simply turn and run, and never set foot in this room (or this entire house) ever again.

But Nick forced himself to stay, because if anyone here needed to keep their composure, it was him. No pressure.

But he also needed rest.

He wouldn't use the bed; not a bed that didn't belong to him.

He moved slowly, as if only on auto-pilot, into the room. He carefully pulled the M4 from his back, and lowered it to the floor. He then unclasped the vest with all of his extra magazines from his torso, and lowered that to the ground as well, noting how heavy it really was. He felt much lighter already.

Nick then sat down on the light brown carpet of the bedroom floor next to his possessions, and slowly laid back untill he was fully sprawled out on the floor. He pulled the M4 as close beside him as he could, and made sure it was positioned in a way that would make it easy to snap into use.

He then shut his eyes just to relax; he knew full well that he wouldn't be getting any sleep, and he probably shouldn't even if he could. Chad would be coming any moment, after all.

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Chad was busy rummaging through the bags of food that had been brought up. He was already on bag five, and had found nothing he was really interested in consuming. It was frustrating. He was hungry. The lighthearted breakfast he had consumed this morning (Not noticing that Nick didn't partake) seemed so very long ago now; a whole other life. Now Chad had a new life; a life he didn't particularly want, but he would fight to live in just the same.

And in this life, he was hungry.

Hadn't they grabbed anything he really wanted to eat?

After going through bag number six, and finding several plastic bottles of unrefrigerated Power-aid, Chad selected the blue one noting with slight glee that he would soon no longer be thirsty.

But as for the food... maybe he was hungry but simply didn't feel like eating.

"You all want anything?" Chad said his current three roommates, none of whom were all that social at the moment.

"No, thanks. I'm good." Tracy mumbled, slightly sarcastically. Apparently the thought of eating something at this moment didn't bode well with her, either.

"Mkay doke. Anyone else?" Chad asked, hiding his mild irritation at Tracy's rudeness; he was only trying to keep everyone focused and healthy, "Ashley? Ali? Anyone?.."

Ali of course didn't answer, or even seem to take notice of Chad's words at all; she looked asleep, all huddled up in the corner, and she may have well been; what a strange girl.

"I'm fine" Ashley said, not looking at him.

Chad paused for a moment, before snap-twisting the lid of his blue Power-aid open, and shrugging, "Okay, then. I'm gonna run down the hall for a minute, okay doke?"

Chad waited for a few seconds for any sort of reply, though Ashley and Tracy were still consumed watching all the increasingly insane news reports, and Ali looked as out of it as ever.

Chad took a sip (more like a gulp) of the Power-aid. Though room temperature, and not particularly refreshing, it did seem to hit the spot. And he needed some electrolytes, Chad thought to himself smiling a bit.

"Alrighty. Be back in a minute."

Chad checked the M1 on on his back, moving it around to make it more comfortable on his back, and then he checked the magazine holder on his belt, also making it as nonabrasive as it could be. He was getting used to carrying the weapon and its accessories around; he considered that a good thing, because who really knew at what point would one be safe without some sort of weapon now? With those things running around? At this juncture, if it came down to it;if there had been a choice, Chad would have traded his left arm to keep the rifle. Even if firing it with one arm would be a royal bitch.

Chad let himself smile; one of the few one hundred percent real, non-faked smiles he had offered the world today. Somehow, even though said world was collapsing around him, and he knew it, he sensed that somehow, everything would be okay. How this thought had gotten stuck in his head, rattling around in there like a small caliber bullet was so far beyond him, that it made no sense, but he didn't care.

It was good to feel good. Even if the feeling wouldn't last.

He left the room, Power-aid in hand.

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As Chad left, Ashley turned just in time to see him disappear. She wasn't yet sure whether or not she even liked him at all; she could've just as easily hated him; in fact, she could've hated everyone here with the sole exception of Tracy. But what good would that do her?

Some people probably couldn't accept that their family and friends, everyone they had know and cared about were dead. Most people couldn't even grasp it; wouldn't grasp it even if they could. But somehow Ashley did. She somehow knew that her family was dead; she had witnessed some of it first hand in this very house. She was even on the road to accepting it. As impossible as it sounded. Somehow she knew that if she wanted to survive she had to move on.

Even if her family, her friends were alive, she hoped they would do the same. She wouldn't want them to get killed trying to find her, and she knew that they wouldn't want her dead coming after them either.

So time to move on, she told herself. These people she could've easily hated: Chad, Nick, Mike, Molly, Ali, and especially Tracy; they were her family now. They were all she had left.

Nick had even bluntly stated that when the day began; he said that for them, they were all they had to ever rely on. No one else would save them, take care of them, do anything for them.

It was them; just them.

Ashley reached over and took Tracy's hand, and squeezed it tight, to her best friend know she was there; she would always be there.

Always.