Still Breathing

[Zulma san]

Guillaume's first impression got shifted quickly. He was not alone! The tall man thought that he heard some noises and saw a shadow at the corner of the hallway.

The noise was a gun noise, wasn't it? Did the crazies use guns? His mind was racing. No they did not...so that meant...a 'real' human being was there too!
Could it be a trap? But those did not think, they were brainless.

He took a deep breath and shouted, his voice echoing against the bare walls of the hallway.
"Who's there?"

His heart beat was strong and fast as he waited anxiously for an answer. He remembered the small but empty gun he had found and his fist clenched on the helmet. What a pitiful defense!  

[Tonash Drahow]

Hunter's ears perked at the sound of a living person's voice. He immediately called back.

"Hello!"

He rounded the corner of the hallway, then to his surprise spotted a very large man standing there.

"Well, it's good to see someone is still walking *and* talking. How did you manage to find my small alcove of shelter?"  

[Zulma san]

Hearing a human voice back, Guillaume thought he was going to hug the man facing him, which would have probably resulted in the man being crushed!

"It's good indeed!" answered the tall man with a relieved and happy voice.

He covered the distance from him to the man in few quick steps and extended his hand.

"I am Guillaume Dupuis. This is a pleasure." he paused.

"Well to be honest I was aiming for the bus depot." he looked around him, taking conscious of the awkwardness of a silent school.

"Have you found anyone else yet?...I mean here?" he asked with a lower voice. Poor kids. Guillaume had not had the opportunity to visit the classrooms yet and now that he was thinking about it, he wasn't so sure he wanted to...  

[cutullus]

The blood and water slowly trickled out of the basin. Her hands were white, clamping down on either side of the filthy porcelain inside of the tiny bathroom in the mechanic's shop. Her shoulders trembled with fear, adrenaline, and relief. Sharon raised her head and regarded her reflection in the grime-spattered mirror. Her mouth was drawn back in a rictus that could have been a smile, but stacatto sounds she was making could have been mistaken for sobbing.

Still alive. She was still alive. And those two twisted piles of flesh in the front room,were dead. Really dead, not this undead thing that seemed to be going around. "Dead," she stated to her reflection. "Dead!" she shouted. With this outburst she began to dissolve into hysterical laughter, but squeezed her eyes shut, took a deep breath, and overcame the urge. "Think of it as a video game," she thought to herself. And with that thought she felt a bit of normalcy slip over her. Video games are scary, sure - and no where near as exhilarating. Wow.

Sharon's wounds were not as bad as she had feared. She resolved to keep a cooler head next time, and not waste time like an idiot. The only good zombie was a dead zombie, and she would make sure the next encounter was on her own terms. Pushing away from the sink, she stepped out of the bathroom. She retreived the 1911 from where she'd dropped it and returned it to the holster at her side. The Marlin was leaning against the wall, and she picked it up and walked over to the filing cabinets where she'd seen the box of rifle ammunition. Leaning against the cool metal, she used the lever to open the action, and began feeding the long brass casings into the magazine. Popping the safety into "safe" she placed one last round into the chamber, and lowered the hammer gently.

As she pushed the door of the office open, she was again greeting with the grisly scene she had left in the main entrance. Two dead zombies, one sprawled on top of the other. Garish bullet wounds added to the dehumanization that the zombie virus had started. Stepping neatly around the carcasses, she opened the door to the repair bays. It was clear that the auto shop was not a safe place to stay, but she wanted to see if she could find anything useful before she left.

Half an hour later Sharon stood before the inside of the bay door, rifle slung over her shoulder on a piece of clothesline, pistol hanging from a leather belt around her waist, and a small handcart sitting at attention beside her. Two fully charged car batteries on the hand cart, tied in place with the jumper cables that might come in handy, were the only things she could find that were portable enough to take with her. She pulled on the huge door's lock release, drew the pistol in her right hand, and heaved the door upwards with her left. Sweeping the small automotive parking lot with the pistol, she considered her route. No zombies were in sight, but she needed to leave here. Perhaps she would find some other refugees at the library. It wasn't too far from the auto shop. She replaced te pistol in her belt, resting her right hand on it for easy access. With her left she grabbed the handcart, and began walking towards the center of the street. She was never a big fan of playing the games with shadows and heart-stopping moments. No cover for her meant no cover for the zombies - and no cover from the zombies was no problem.  

[Ale Posselna]

"Ah-ha, I knew he would have some more with him." Donata said, pulling out a box of ammunition from the corpse's pocket, relieved by the findind and nauseated from the smell. "And that's enought search for the day" she concluded, rubbing her nose, and retreating to a small space behind the counter, miraculously free from debris. She needed to think what to do now. So far, this place had been quiet. Besides her, nothing was moving, which was good and bad at the same time. It was good, because it meant that the mutants weren't chasing her. And it was bad because it meant she still hadn't found any other survivors...

Donata sighed as she concocted another mixture of chemicals and sealed it in a metal can she had found in the trash. Lousy choice of place from her, not even a morsel of food around... At least the bombs were coming out nicely. What a strange existance this was, being forced to resort to violence in order to keep living... she shook her head, those kind of thoughts weren't going to help. She needed to get going, obviously there was nothing more that she could do in the place. Even to get rid of the decaying bodies, she would need help. Yes, that she would do next, after finishing what she was doing.

Donata's ears perked as a loud sound coming from outside the broken glass door caught her attention. Mutant? Human? Most likely mutant, nowadays a human would have been more careful than that... from her hiding place, it was hard to tell. She tried her best to keep very silent, her movements slow and precise. With a bit of luck, she would remain unnoticed. Still, even knowing she wasn't skilled on the matter, Donata grabbed the shotgun, now fully loaded, and waited. The sound grew louder and louder in her direction, apparently, she had been found out.