Because I could and did. Actually this chapters insperation was given to me by an interview with a lawer podcast. Just goes to show insperation comes from everywhere and I really should stop listening to political speeches.

~Loner

"Pain. Suffering. Desperation. We all know it. We all see it. We have all experienced it. Everyday, every hour, every minute… second…. We wake up in the morning hoping to survive, if not the day, then the next hour. When we finally lay our heads down at night, our last thought is a prayer to the gods, to the higher powers, to the universe: 'Please,' we all silently whisper into the darkness, 'please, let us awake again…. Please, we don't want to die.'" Aiden released the button on the radio for just a moment, to let his speech settle over his invisible audience. If there was one even listening at this hour. He had a few teams out there, fighting to get to a safe house; maybe, already in one, settled for the night of restless sleep in a halfway protected area.

During his moment of quiet, Aiden let his mind wander, thinking of the faces that came into his fortress. He gave a moment to every family that wondered in off the streets looking for refuge, every lost child they found hidden away by parents who did their best to protect them. For every person who limped in, it seemed like five were carried out wrapped in silk for the bone fires they had burning. The community he threw together, built up from the ashes of the old company, rose to the occasion, meeting every one of his expectations through blood, sweat, and hard work. However, Aiden knew, eventually, it won't be enough to survive the harshness of the world they were in now. They were dwindling down, even as they grew. It was like the world today was trying to… control them… herd them in like cattle.

Sometimes, it felt like we, the living, were living only because the dead knew they needed us.

Suddenly, as if to rid himself of the thoughts of the dead being intelligent enough to preserve food, Aiden hit the button again. Once again, his smooth voices was flowing over the mic, deep and rumbling from pent up anger at the world. Same shit, just a different day for Aiden. "We spend every waking moment, hoping for a new tomorrow, praying for a better one, fighting for a chance, and surviving just so we can see it become a reality once again. Life before was not perfect. No, it was quite cruel and judgmental, but it was quiet and peaceful as well. In life we woke up every day and followed the same routine, the same laws and regulations, there was comfort in that. That loll of life." Aiden let go of the button again; this time to check his time. He needed to wrap it up soon. It was almost time for the check ins from the teams.

Aiden hit the button again as the assigned assistants started to come into the room and set up. "The Dead," he pressed, "walk among us, and, still, we see the dreads of yesterday's society rising up. The uglies of a society that no longer exist are among us. Raping what is left of us, when we should be coming together in our time of need, in the fight of the human right to just live. They pillage what little we still own, what small crumbs we scrounge up from the depths of hell." Aiden's eyes narrowed down, glaring at the wall across from him, thinking of the last so called raid brought to his doors. "Fear not, I say. I have heard their message and I have decided to respond." Aiden grinned; face morphing into that of the devil's from his glee.

He let go of the button and, two seconds later, a huge sound crackled through the speakers of the radio, screeching out in a loud explosion of static before cutting off abruptly. Aiden waited patiently for the deafening sound to end and his ringing ears to stop hurting, before pressing the button down. "That, Ladies and Gentlemen, is the sound of The Governor's nearby base being blown to bits. This is The General of Ace Company, consider yourself warned." Aiden threw the mic piece on the table acting as his desk and leaned back in his chair. "And that," Aiden said with a satisfied grin that showed a little too much teeth, "is how it is done."

The assistant, too use to Aiden's attitude, continued to set up their maps, set out papers, and reorganize the stacks of files in front of them. A glance at the clock told Aiden it was just about 8 o clock at night. The check ins were about to start. Aiden leaned forward, his elbows on the desk, supporting his head on interlaced fingers, and watched the assistant, a rather butch female; pick up the mic to the second radio in the room.

Pressing down on the mics button, the assistant said in a strict tone, "The time now is 8 o'clock." Then, she released the button, turning to her male partner making a rotating motion with her finger. What that meant, Aiden had no idea. The hand language between the two seemed to have no logic at all. Where one hand movement should mean 'wrap it up' or 'turn around' when someone else used it, for them, it meant something completely different.

The two, apparently, were identical twins. Aiden didn't see it… but, he supposed that was because one of them has transitioned into a woman. Rather odd woman at that, too. So, Aiden just found himself watching the two twin interact with the things and people around them. He found it sort of interesting. Twins weren't exactly rare, maybe uncommon, but twins that were so different? That was rare, especially in identical twins; which made him think, maybe, they weren't identical twins, but fraternal twins that had looked amazingly similar? It was so hard to know when one now looks like the woman's MMA champion and the other looks to be more interested in reading by the window.

How does this even work? What happened? Freak of natures? Ugh. Aiden was never gladder when the radio started to go off again as people started their check in. He seemed to be really thinking these days; too many deep thoughts going on. He needed to go find something to hit later.

"Team Alpha, Zone 89a, reporting in for the night," Jefferson's voice came through smoothly with hardly any pauses to show he was checking the spray painted tag written on the wall above the truck radio. Sometimes, people got lost out in the city, too turned around from running to realize exactly where they were. "Mission a success, though Fred was shot… Stupid bastard. His own damn fault too. This fucker… General, you'll get a kick out of this. This idiot was on guard duty. Apparently, from what Terry said, he heard a noise and hopped down from the guard branch to go check it out. We didn't try to stop him. Just let him go off to meet whatever maker out there. Five minutes later, there were gun shots and he never came back."

"Location?" the male assistant asked shortly.

"Off by the main road, the one that runs through zone 80," Jefferson said absently. "Oh," his voice picked up in pitch, "and there was a screaming car going down zone 79 around noon."

Then, the room erupted in noise and a flurry of motion as the two assistant searched for a map of zone 79.

"This is bad. This is bad," the male was repeating as his finger traced the roads in zone 79 following it to where their fortress was set up.

"It's not too bad," the female was saying as she eye balled the length of space between her brother's two index fingers on the map.

The male assistants head jerked up from the map to stare at his sister. "How is two zones 'not too bad,'" he mimicked. Then, he turned back to the map. "Ask what direction it was coming from and where it was going."

The female reached across the table, grabbed the abandoned mic, and repeated her brother's question.

There was silence from the other side for a while, before a static interference was coming through the radio, a sign that someone had pressed the button, and a think Southern accent was coming through. "It was coming from the god damn shopping center across from your god damn 'Zone 83b,'" the voice read off. "Prob'ly headin' out of tha city usin' the interstate."

Everyone in the room, which was really just the three, turned their attention to the radio. Who is that?

Jefferson rose up to voice the question they were all thinking. "Who the fuck is this?"

Aiden motioned for the mic, which was placed in hand by the stunned female assistant. "Merle," the short man practically purred out in annoyance. He really hated the guy. "I see you found our offices."

"Yeah, damn nice set up ya got goin' on here." Fucking bastard had the nerve to sound impressed. "Ya may have just saved mu life."

Aiden tapped his finger on the surface of the table in thought. If Merle was in the safe zone… Aiden shook his head. Not the time to think about it. He stood from his chair and moved over to the map, bringing the mic to the trucker's radio with him. He paused to look down at the map. Taking in the red squares and blue dots on the map, Red being the zone borders and blue being the safety zones they had set up. Each zone had enough snacks and water to last a small group of three for, at least, two days if rationed correctly, a small number of medical supplies, only enough to do field aid, and a few of the quieter weapons they could spare from the weaponry.

"The location across the way boarders into Zone 84. That is a good ways into the city." Aiden lifted his finger from the button, watching his female assistant trace the lines on the map. Aiden reached into the small pile of pebbles next to the map and started placing the colored pebbles on the map, keeping everything color coded. Team Alpha got a black pebble where they were located on the map. The murder scene of one Fredrick Jones got a strange golden tiger eye pebble. Merle's location got a white one. The car, however, got the Monopoly game piece shaped like a car, just for Aiden's amusement. It went without saying where the fortress of Ace Company was located, but Aiden still placed a small broken castle that was designed for a fish bowl over the warehouse district.

"No shit, Sherlock," Merle growled out over the radio.

Aiden glanced at the time again and frowned. He didn't have time for this. He had other teams that needed to check in. Alphas' time was almost up. Another will need to call in soon. Aiden brought the mic up again. "Alpha, new orders."

"Sir," Jefferson's voice came from over the radio.

"Take your team and pick up our guest in 83b and whatever friends he may have with him, in the morning. Call me on the secure line once you get there. I want an update, this channel is too public."

"Understood, rerouting to Zone 83b as soon as possible."

Then, the female assistant switched the channel cutting off communication with the previous one. Aiden handed the mic back to the woman so she could finish her assignment, and stood staring at the map.

There were other, closer teams, that could get Merle and any information he may have needed. However, they only had a few military grade field phones on hand. Including his, which he always has on hand, and Jefferson they had a total of 4. All of them they kept guarded with select individuals. There was one in the field with team Alpha, one at the gates, one in the med bay, and, of course, his, which acted as emergency backup communication. It didn't cover all of their blind spots, but it was enough… for now.

Aiden listened to the rest of the scheduled reports with half an ear, catching small pieces of information and marking them on the map when they were noteworthy. Soon, a story began to play out on the map. A strange country bumpkin of a sheriff spotted in zone 60, near the main interstate. A gathering of Dead surrounding a shopping mall designed sky scraper almost cutting team Delta off from a nearby trading camp. The only thing that saved that team was the sudden gunshots from the roof tops that drew the Dead from their hiding place. The team sent out to restock and check the safe areas near a car park almost died from sudden car alarms and were currently stuck waiting out the alarms and the Deads' interest for the night. All in all, it looked like a huge shit ass drama show that looked to be the beginning of a stampede.

"Jill," Aiden called to the female assistant, eyes never leaving the map of pebbles and game pieces, "Switch to our local channel." Then, he held his hand out for the mic.

The female assistant, Jill, paused, hand still hanging in the air above the map. After processing the orders, she placed the price between her fingers down, marking a reported spot on the map. Then, Jill reached over to the radio switching the channels until she got to the emergency channel shared by both allies and traders. Radio chatter instantly filled the room as she flipped through, random snippets of conversation playing out then cut off almost as quickly as it started. Finally, she stopped on the correct channel that seemed to play the same government message over and over filling the channel with nonsense about a safe haven in Atlanta. Jill looked over at her brother, running her finger over her throat.

Jill's brother pushed off, using the edge of the shared table-desk, taking advantage of the wheels on his chair to roll over to another table behind him. Hitting a few buttons on the system the tech department had set up at the beginning of the outbreak, he cut the recording off. The male assistant spun around, snapped his fingers and shot them off pointing two index fingers at Jill, thumbs in the air, like finger guns.

Jill took a moment to nod her thanks before lifting the mic to her lips. Pressing the button, she spoke in the most monotonous voice Aiden had ever heard, "This is an emergency broadcast brought to you by The General of the Ace Company. Repeat. This is an emergency broadcast brought to you by The General of the Ace Company, located in the Nouthwest of Atlanta City." When she let go of the button, Jill passed the mic over to Aiden.

Aiden took the mic from Jill. "Good evening," he started, then paused collecting his thoughts. Impromptu speeches were never his thing, despite what others said. Did he tell his audience the story? Break down the information that led to his need to send out a warning? Did he just say he believed a stampede of Dead were about to make its way down the main interstate that lead out of the city and let it be taken as they will? "I am broadcasting today," he continued, mostly to give himself for time to think, "to send warning to those of you traveling by the main interstate of Atlanta City. There has been sightings of a large gathering of Dead throughout the city of Atlanta, making its way from the Atlanta Shopping district through the city, following what people believe is red sports car. The vehicle model is unconfirmed. However, it has been confirmed that the vehicle's alarm was going off as it drove through the city, calling all nearby Dead and exited the city using interstate Southwest highway."

"Be cautious and use other routes when entering and exiting the city. All nearby residents are encouraged to find a safe place to wait the stampede out. Do not play the hero." Aiden released the button and passed the mic back to Jill.

"Please, stay tune as our fellow expert, Timothy, goes over the list of safety precautions and gives you the common everyday reminders of what not to do when waiting out a stampede. Timothy." Then, Jill handed the mic to her brother, who had rolled over to his previous location near his sister.

"Thank you, Jill," Timothy said politely into the mic.

It wasn't everyday they had to send out warnings. Most stampedes were random, driven by the Deads' hunger for flesh. When those happened Ace Company could do nothing but sit back and watch as they defended their safe heaven to the best of their ability. Afterwards, they would spend the next few weeks checking up on the known communities in the area, making sure they were still functioning. Then, when they had as much information they could possibly get, they would compile it into the bare bone broadcast, letting the listeners know which communities no longer existed. No longer existing communities were the ones Ace Company would classify as dead; which is to say, any community that could no longer function as a group to survive. The strays of the communities, usually Allies or children, were offered a spot among Ace Company.

Predicted stampedes, like this, were rare. It only happened when someone intentionally went out of their way to create it or a series of events just happened to line up perfectly for it. The after care of the stampede was the same, but, with a predicted stampede, they could get out a warning. A prepared warning so they could remind the survivors in the area what to do. Many communities appreciate the warning. It allowed them to set up precautions and prepare for the worst. These predictable stampede warnings were the only reason most of their allies had a radio at all. Ally leaders usually had them going in the background of their work stations on low, only turning it up when they hear the government recording cut off. The smaller communities usually set out to join up with the bigger ones for a few days, finding safety in the bigger numbers.

When Timothy finally set down the mic, he pushed himself over the recording. After he pressed the button to the machine, the Radio began to play the prerecorded government message again like their announcement was never made.

Aiden turned to his assistants. "Tomorrow, we will announce it again after Team Alphas' call." After getting a confirmation, a nod from Jill and a thumbs-up from Timothy, Aiden left the room. He had other things to check up on and a possible horde of undead to prepare for.

Merle's eyes scanned the roof top looking for an emergency exit off the roof. There always was a few. It was a city mandate to have at least one fire exit from the roof top to the ground in case of a fire. Judging from the condition of the roof he was on, the lack of gang tags and broken bottles, this building was still in use when the world blew up.

The banging on the door to the roof grew louder as the Walkers on the other side grew in number. What may have been one turned into perhaps two and the door started to groan from the stress by the time he spotted the staircase running down the side of the building. Pulling his knife, Merle cautiously, trying to minimize the sound of his footsteps in some vain hope the Walkers on the other side of the door would lose interest, made his way to the other side of the rooftop. Few steps into his escape, the door behind him gave out and three bodies came tumbling forward.

"Fuck!" Merle cursed his luck. His day just got worse and he had a feeling it was just going downhill from here. Gridding his teeth in aggravation, Merle took off at a run, hands already moving to take out one of the Walkers that stumbled too close for his comfort with deadly aim. He pushed his heavy body over the side of the building, forcing lead feet onto the bar that acted as step.

Rotting hands reached out for him as the Walkers grew near. "Fuck!" Merle growled out in surprise as split nails crossed his burring vision. The hand holding his hunting knife flew out without any thought. Another Walker dropped to the ground losing to Merle's fight or flight instincts. "Fuck." He pulled his knife from the temple of the second Walker with a fascinating squelching sound. He spun the handle from a forward grip to a backwards one as he pulled his hand back towards his body. Then, he thrust out his arm again, nailing the third Walker in the face, knife angled upward towards its brain. In its death, though, the walker, which was leaning towards him, tipped over the side of the rooftop, falling forward and adding its dead weight to his already heavy body.

Merles grunted at the extra weight already feeling the sweaty hand holding onto the ladder begin to slip. "F-uck." Merle quickly released the knife, leaving it sitting in the Walker's eye, to make a quick grab at the side bar of the ladder. His body twisted as his other hand finally slipped from the bar and the Walker's dead weight was pushed further into the space between him and the ladder. Stupid gravity, he complained to himself even as he tightened the hand still on the side of the ladder and pushed off with his feet, aiming to swing his body out of the way of the falling Walker.

He slipped further down the ladder's side bar until his hand hit the horizontal bar acting as a step. That was going to bruise, he thought idly, his other hand coming up to grip at the step bar and hopefully provide him more leverage against the gravity pulling at his body. Scariest shit he had ever had to do, but he wasn't going to admit it. Fuck the new world order, he though bitterly. He wasn't going down without a fight.

Merle took in the situation he suddenly found himself in. He was hanging on the side of what had to be a 25 story building. His feet refused to find grip on the ladder's steps, regardless of how many times he tried, and his hands were already feeling the strain of holding his dead weight. He needed another strategy. The problem was, he was no longer armed. His gun had gone missing long before he woke up. This, he figured, meant one of the assholes who left him here took it with them. He was much too exhausted from his high-crash and probably suffering from heat exhaustion, if the double vision and slight darkening around his vision meant anything. "Fuck," he groaned, wishing he could just pound his head in and finish it already. A fucking fall from this height would most definitely hurt.

Merle felt a finger start to slip from the bars. "Fuck my life." If he had the time, the man would have cried at the unfairness of it all. Maybe after he got out of this alive.

Merle forced himself to focus. Using shear will, Merle focused his eyes on the building across the alley he was dangling in. It was another sky scraper slightly smaller than the one he had found himself clinging to. If he got a good swing in he could make it across to the roof top. Hopefully…

Merle pulled in a deep breath, holding it to the count of three to calm his nerves. He could not- no, would not miss. When he released the air from his lungs, Merle felt a little calmer, a little more confident. He could do this. He will do this.

"Okay, Merle," he told himself, talking himself through this, "just like running the course in the military. You've done this a million times." Unintentional, his eyes slid downwards, taking in the distance to the ground from his position. Merle gulped as his nerve spiked. "Just a little higher than the last time." He let out a nervous laugh. When this was over, he was going to find himself some hard liquor, preferably a jug, and gulp it down until he was shit faced drunk and couldn't remember his name, let alone what he was doing right now.

Taking a deep breath, Merle steeled his nerves, pushing his fear from his mind. Bracing a foot on the building next to him, Merle pushed off. One swing; not far enough out. Two swings; nerves wouldn't let him let go just yet. Three swings; he let his fingers slid from the bars he was using to hold himself up, letting fate run it's course as he twisted his body midair to catch the side of the building on the other side of the ally. He landed with a humph of pain, sliding and rolling across the rooftop, but very much alive.

Merle just laid where he landed for a moment, taking in the pain of the landing. Pain was good. It meant he was still alive. Hurt, but alive, and damn if that didn't make him feel invincible right now.

Sadly, he didn't get to bask the moment for very long before a walker was interrupting his thoughts. Ears perked up, picking up the sounds of nearby shuffling. Merle forced himself up onto shaking legs. Fuck today, he complained mentally. He stumbled in his first step towards the new rooftop door, fighting hard not to fall face first into concrete. On his way to the door, Merle picked up a pipe that was leaning against the building air conditioning unit. Wasn't like the building's owner needed to replace whatever piping unit they had placed it there for, and there was no way he was going to go anywhere without a weapon.

He was maybe five feet from the door leading off the roof and out of the sun when the Walker, a guy in reflector vest and some sort of tags hanging from his rotting neck, finally found him. "Fuck!" Merle growled in frustration. "Can't catch a god damn…" Mid-rant, Merle forced his tired body to pull up the pipe he was dragging along with him and swing at the Walker's head. "Mother fucking." The pipe connected with a hard wham, causing half the Walker's head to cave in. "Break." The Walker dropped to the ground, blood and brain matter splattering across the concrete floor from the force. "Just fuck today."

Once inside, Merle noticed a significant lack of Walkers in the building. It shouldn't have surprised him, considering the building seemed to be an office building, but it did. This had to be the first building he'd ever been in that didn't have at least one Walker hidden away in the closet. It was strange, but he didn't feel like questioning it. Maybe fate didn't hate him after all.

Pfft, yeah. Right, and he was Marry Poppins.

Merle walked along the silent halls of the building, dragging the pipe along behind him. He needed a safe area to rest. Maybe somewhere with food. Didn't office buildings have employee lounges? Where the hell was that lounge?

Turning the corner, Merle stopped, staring across the hall to the other end. The door to that office was the same as any other in the building: plain brown wood with a little window in the middle that allowed others to peek into the room in passing. Only this window was boarded up from the inside. Strange, Merle thought as he continued on ward, curious now. What was in that room? Funny how the little details caught people's attention.

As he moved closer, his sharp ears picked up a muffled voice coming from the room. His steps slowed and evened out as he cautiously made his way to the door. There was only one voice, but it sounded like it was making a long winded speech so there was no way of telling how many were actually in the room. Who made their hideout in an office building? Merle paused. It was actually kind of fucking brilliant. I mean, who would purposely go searching for anything in an office building? No one. There wasn't anything but useless junk in an office building.

Sucks to be them, though. Merle knew, where there was people, there was supplies. Right now, Merle really needed those supplies.

As Merle move closer to the door, he could hear the words of the speech.

"…spend every waking moment, hoping for a new tomorrow, praying for a better one, fighting for a chance, and surviving just so we can see it become a reality once again. Life before was not perfect…"

It sounded a lot like the person was trying to… inspire something? Maybe? Merle stopped just outside the door. The bad thing about boarding up the window was that the people inside couldn't see outside either. So, Merle wasn't really worried about being noticed as he pressed an ear to the door.

"…it was quite cruel and judgmental, but it was quiet and peaceful as well. In life we woke up every day and followed the same routine, the same laws and regulations, there was comfort in that…"

Why did that voice sound so familiar?