Hey Hey!

Minneapolis, Minnesota



Otto Wakefield cocked his Mossberg 500 Persuader. It was black, with synthetic furniture, a 20 inch barrel, an 8 shot butt stock shell holder, and an 8 shot magazine. He was a tall man, with graying black hair. He was mostly muscular and lean, but he had a beer gut. Like his little brother, he was pale, and he had gray eyes. He wore a pair of black state trooper’s pants with a gold stripe on each side, and a pair of tall, shiny state trooper boots. For a shirt,… Continue

Landon looked up at the figures in the doorway. They were dressed in Swat suits

and looked ready for a war. Landon looked around and saw that Carlisle and Seargent

were unconsious and everybody else was looking wide eyed at the Swat officers.



The one in front of the pack pulled Landon upon to his feet. "Are any of you

bitten?" he asked. "We just found some of these people in a school bus, but me and

Carlisle aren't," Landon replyed. "Are you the ones who made that… Continue

Carlisle took no time in rallying the new group. They were ready in about 10 minutes, and were headed straight for the building which Landon identified as the police station. The woman sprinted up to Carlisle, examining his features. He was not exactly model material, but he wasn’t horrifyingly ugly. He had pale skin, gray eyes, and black hair. His hair used to be in an old greaser style, but he hadn’t fixed it for days. Now, it was a mottled mess, and he did his best to keep it out of the way… Continue

The helicopter flew low over the rooftops, broadcasting it's message both over the radio and through an intercom; A military broadcast on the radio, and calling lesser equipped survivors to the Police Station by shouting into a bullhorn while flying around town. Below, the trio could see mostly Zombies; every so often they would catch a glimpse of what may have been a survivor, but it was always too fleeting to tell for certain.



After more or less half an hour of flying around and… Continue

Carlisle sprinted toward the police station, Landon following close behind. Landon was getting tired. He had been running for about an hour. It had happened this way because in the middle of one of his rants, when he drove over an old police road strip. After that, the moans started. Carlisle looked over his shoulder, and saw Landon, who stopped and leaned against a building.



“Come on!” he growled. Landon just stood there. Carlisle looked in his pack. “Ok. Take your shotgun. Put it… Continue