Kingdom of the Dead (Reader Discretion is Advised)

[Briar Rose]

FIVE WEEKS AFTER THE FIRST INFECTION...

You see one zombie, you've seen them all. The lone undead was feasting on fresh organs, when he (though more appropriately 'it' now) heard a loud crash inside the decrepit gas station. The zombie groaned lowly as he turned his head to his new target. Obviously some kind of easygoing hick when he was alive, the undead got up and staggered, arms out stretched, groaning eerily. The windows were boarded, but the (likewise boarded) door didn't seem locked. As the zombie discovered, it wasn't.

The zombie pushed open the door and staggered inside, groaning. It happened in seconds; the door closed, shut by someone hiding in the corner. Then that person, in one swift movement, axed the zombie in the temple. The zombie groaned and dropped to his knees. The assailant pressed its boot against the zombie's back, to help itself pull the axe from the head. The zombie fell to its face and made one final, short groan before the person killed it with another blow to the head.

What stood before the zombie was a beautiful yet forever disturbed young woman. A tight fitting black tank top accentuated her willowy body. Equally tight jeans hugged her legs, and she wore durable boots. In her hair she had on a black headband.

Aurora frowned gently. "Please be at peace now," she whispered respectfully to the zombie. She took up her axe again and looked to her companion, who was inside the gas station with her, looting for nonperishable food and other supplies.

"Found anything useful?"

[San]

Aurora's partner, from farther away into the room, was unable to hold back an impressed grin at the sight of how efficiently her friend handled the zombie. She may have always come off as gentle as a lamb, but she could be almost scary with an axe in hand. Moreso if you were a zombie, of course.

The young Asian woman, approximately the same age as Aurora, quickly hid her smirk when her friend turned to face her - she knew Aurora didn't enjoy having to take care of once-living people like that, and certainly wouldn't like seeing others enjoy seeing her doing so. Her hardy face once again resuming its more typical, more somber countenance, San nodded firmly towards Aurora with a "Yeah," continuing to stuff as many crackers, rices, canned vegetables and waters as possible into her backpack - which was, thankfully, small and not so cumbersome as to slow her down in case of an attack. And they've had more than their fair share of attacks since this damn outbreak. A number of bloodied stains remained on San's bomber jacket and well-fitting jeans, but she cared little - what mattered was keeping whatever came out of those zombies away from her own bloodstream. The very thought incited San to nab just a few more antibiotics before returning to Aurora's side - grabbing her own weapon, a completely blood-covered katana that had clearly done in more than a few undead.

"...." She stopped beside her, staring down grimly at the deceased infected man, and sighed. "This really is one messed up situation we're in..." she darkly muttered, eyebrows furrowing, as she turned her cold, distant gaze to the vast, lifeless, almost wasteland-like expanse just outside. The incoming light made the azure-colored stone hanging around her neck shimmer brilliantly. The necklace was a gift from... someone special to her. Someone whom San wasn't even sure was alive by now... or human anymore, for that matter...

[Briar Rose]

Aurora set her ax on the top of a barren shelf, the steel kind with the tiny holes on the walls. She took off her own pink and blue backpack and proceeded to shove other essentials into the bag. As she stuffed other packaged food into the only storage device she had anymore, she noticed something desirable through the corner of her eye... like an oasis in a desert. She gasped and, as if it would fly away, ran for it. She grabbed the single, wrapped bar of soap and clutched it excitedly. "Finally!"

She returned it to her backpack and zipped it shut. She slipped it through her dainty arms and frowned upon the recently killed zombie. She took up her ax and gripped it until her knuckles were white. "I just... I never get used to it. They used to think and have feelings, but now..." She gasped when she heard a knock on the side door. At first she feared another horde attack, but the knock was familiar: Shave-and-a-hair-cut-two-bits.

"It's Pete!" She hurried to the door and unlocked it by opening it. She looked up to him as she entered. "Did you get it?"

[Pete]

What stepped in was a 6'1", 300 pound mountain of a cat. He was Pete, and despite being obese, he was a lot nimbler than expected. He could break your nose with a swift punch, and he also had a mean swing with a chainsaw, which was strapped on his back and in a custom-made sheath. Crossing the chainsaw was a sawed off, double-barreled shotgun, the kind used in the army... heavy duty.

Pete was in denim overalls (with dry blood coated on his large belly) and brown boots, but he was shirtless. He was covered almost completely by thick, black fur, but his muzzle was shaven. He had on a pair of brown leather gloves and he smirked as he held up a bag of medical supplies.

"A few 'leftover' docs didn't want me to go," he replied to Aurora, "but I discharged 'em." He looked to San and handed her the medical supplies. "Like I said, I ain't no doctor. But just in case we ever do meet up with one, at least we have somethin'. The hospital wasn't as packed as I thought it'd be. Huh."

Pete definitely took a big risk in going to a hospital alone. Aurora protested, but Pete insisted they'd save time if he got the medical supplies while the ladies scavenged the gas station.

[Miranda Wright]

Miranda walked quietly through the dusty wasteland, her only companion the sound of the bottoms of her shoes crunching sand and gravel underneath as she went.

Her standard issue police revolver hung at her side, the familiar weight comforting her. Aside from the small firearm, she also had the recent addition of a pump-action shotgun slung across her back, which she had been fortunate enough to find while combing through an abandoned farmstead. Her eyes, once bright and full of life, were now hollow and haunted, her face tired and worn. She couldn't remember the last time she had put on some lipstick, much less any other makeup. Not that it mattered anymore though. Her once nice casual clothing, which consisted of a white shirt, a red jacket, and black jeans, looked like it had seen better days. What she wouldn't give for a nice warm bubble bath just then.

Spying the run-down gas station ahead, Miranda decided to come in closer to investigate, fingering the revolver nervously the entire time. Stopping just beyond the parking area, instinctively she cased the area. She never knew when one of them would appear.

[George Darling]

In the employee-only area in the rear of the gas station, the small (almost claustrophobically-so) office, which was situated near the meager receiving area for the humble business, was occupied by a middle-aged, portly man. He looked like the sort who would look rather professional given normal circumstances, though since the 'event' he had donned a far more disheveled appearance. He wore black business pants, which were once neatly-pressed, though had since seen better days, secured by a black belt with a silver buckle looped around his waist. A (primarily) white, long-sleeved, button-front shirt adorned his upper torso, though it had distinctive sweat stains around the underarms and back. The shirt was tucked-in, as if such an act could counteract how out-of-sorts he looked in every other conceivable way. His black shoes appeared as business-appropriate, though they were unpolished and covered in grime. A black tie dangled from his neck, though it was loosened and lopsided. His short, black hair was a mess, and though he had a relatively well-groomed mustache, he also had quite a bit of stubble upon his haggard face, which signified that he had not shaved in at least a week.

His thick eyebrows furrowed in agitation as he rummaged through the drawers and cabinets of the office. For such a small space, there sure was an abundance of clutter to sift through. After shoving things around for a while, and growing more frustrated all the while, he at last discovered what he was looking for: a brass-colored key which featured a white sticker which read 'Pump 1-4' in crude, red scribbled ink. He dangled the key by the ring it was attached to in front of his face, smirking. “Aha!” He exclaimed triumphantly, even though no one else was present to hear him. Though he himself heard something: a ruckus from the sales floor portion of the area, and familiar voices being exchanged. One of the voices belonged to Pete, which could only mean that the lunatic had returned from his suicide run alive and intact.

Grumbling under his breath, the plump businessman clasped the key firmly in one hand while he grabbed his metal baseball bat, which was propped beside the door, in the other before he headed out of the office to meet up with his party on the sales floor. “Well, the management’s organization skills leave something to be desired, but I managed to fi--Good heavens!” He started to explain as he entered through a swinging door, on which a sign read 'EMPLOYEES ONLY' in black against an orange background, though he cut himself off when he noticed the corpse sprawled out near the entrance of the gas station. He crinkled his nose in disgust and furrowed his eyebrows, clearly repulsed by the sight. After a moment, he returned his attention to the large man and two teenagers present.

“Ahem. I found the pump key, so we should be able to get the truck running again.” He announced, dangling said key from its attached ring around his middle finger to visually illustrate what he had said. His eyes, which had dark circles beneath them, then locked squarely on Pete as he lowered his arm and pocketed the key. “So, you actually survived your fool’s errand. I really cannot comprehend what you were thinking, going alone like that. Medical supplies aren’t much use if you’re already dead, or turned. Sooner or later your luck is going to run out!” He chastised the large feline, though his voice didn’t reveal any genuine concern for the man’s safety; only irritation at how blatantly brash the crude lummox was.

[San]

San cast a frown over to Aurora, hearing the pain in her voice and seeing it on her face. San had taken for granted how horrible this situation was... and was doing her best to blow through it, thinking about nothing but surviving. But Aurora... she was too caring to just... not care. Even now, she was being hit hard by the reality of the situation.

A sudden sound rang out from the door, causing San to instinctively jolt and clutch tightly onto her katana... but within less than a second, she recognized that familiar knock. Into the room came that lumbering brute... Pete. San was not sure what to think of this person they had picked up along the way. Were she in any other situation... she'd positively hate him. He was rude, boorish, selfish, and sometimes disgustingly lecherous. Not to mention incredibly boastful and prideful - San reckoned to herself that was much of the reason he marched off on his own to the hospital. But... the fact remained that he was helping them out. Whether he really meant it or not... he was a vital asset to their group, at the moment. And, if it weren't for him... they wouldn't have those medical supplies, which San silently accepted from Pete as she listened to him grumble on.

She had to admit... it was a bit of a shock that he had survived that hospital all on his own. She'd say she was impressed if she, herself, wasn't so stubborn and prideful in her own way.

From the nearby employee's office, the fourth member of the party returned from scavenging for supplies - Mr. Darling, a rather uptight businessman who had also tagged along with them. San had fairly little to say about him - she didn't particularly dislike him. He did complain a little too much for her liking, and in particularly dire times she had to hold her tongue to prevent herself from telling him to just shut up. But he was a very intelligent man, and did try to look out for all of them, particularly her and Aurora. San could at least appreciate that much. And one thing was certain - she could agree with him on his sentiments about Pete.

"... Well, what matters is that we have the supplies we need," San, blunt and terse as ever, added, lifting up a strap of her backpack in preparation to get moving. "We should move on, now. Sticking around here any longer will just attract more of them." And with that, the headstrong young woman did not even wait for the others as she approached the front door - yet something stopped her in her tracks. From through one of the windows, some distance away outside... she could see a figure.

"... Something's out there," she muttered, loud enough for the other three to hear. She tensed her muscles and held tight onto her katana. From the current distance... there was no way of telling whether what she was seeing was a survivor or one of them.

[Briar Rose]

Aurora, nicknamed Rory by her closest friends, exhaled softly through her nostrils and smiled in relief. She was grateful that Pete, despite his brazenly irrational decision, made it back alive and well, with no bites anywhere on his body. Once you're bitten by them, your goose is cooked.

George entered with a key, and he reacted in shock to the zombie that lay dead. She remembered killing the lost soul while George rummaged through the employee area, and she instinctively looked away and hid her face, out of shame.

As the mediator of the group, Aurora frowned gently when George openly criticized Pete--not that George wasn't justified in his logic (he was), but she knew that Pete would throw in a snide comment or two. To prevent a big argument, Aurora straightened her back and looked up to the very tall cat's face. "Thank you, Pete. We do appreciate your favor."

Her childhood friend, San, curtly demanded the others to leave. Aurora couldn't say she cared much for anyone fighting for the role of the leader in this outfit, even from San, but she only confronted her lifelong friend in very dire circumstances, and this wasn't one of them. Aurora agreed, and she was the next to move, but she stopped when she noticed the figure at the same time.

She only took seconds before making a decision. "I'll go look." She looked to San, and then George. "If you two could be ready in case I need you, I'd really appreciate it." She smiled reassuringly to Pete. "No offense, Pete, but guns are too loud. You know they attract the others. And your chainsaw is loud, too." She faced the entrance again and, in a nervous whisper, said, "Wish me luck."

She calmly walked out of the gas station with both hands in the air. Her right hand still held the axe. She winced at the sunlight as she tried to make out the figure in question. "Hello?" she said, loud enough to be heard clearly from the short distance but not enough to (hopefully) alert a horde.

Her vision became adjusted in the sudden light, and she could make out a woman in black pants, a red jacket, and a white shirt... way too clean to be turned. "I'm not one of them," Aurora said. "I'm with other survivors. I won't hurt you, I promise." Her Tennessean accent surfaced even in that tense moment. "In fact, to show you..." She kept her eyes on the figure as she slowly bent her knees to be closer to the ground, and set the axe down. She slowly stood upright again. "I'm Aurora. Who're you?"

[Pete]

It wasn't until after San took the bag when Pete noticed the fresh corpse on the floor. Going by the process of elimination, the cuts on the temple loudly screamed "AXE!", and Aurora was the only person in the outfit who carried that weapon. He smirked at her. Prior the infection, he never would have guessed that a southern belle like her could pull a Jack Torrance.

George had returned with a pump key, which would get the truck going. Pete lowered his eyelids coolly as he crossed his large, burly arms on his chest. He may have been fat, but he was also very strong, and sometimes he had the urge to just hit the man between the eyes. The business man went on to chastise him for retrieving the medical supplies. Typical; he went out of his way to get what he considered important supplies, and insisted on doing it alone to save time so they could make a quick escape. And this is the thanks he gets?

"Relax, Mr. Belvedere," Pete said without a change of facial expression. "I said I'd get th' medical stuff, and I got it, and we saved time." He casually leered at San, who didn't thank him, either. San wasn't too much better than George; she looked like she had an aversion to anyone that wasn't Rory. Speaking of whom, princess did thank him. Even though she said it was on behalf of all of them, he was convinced she was the only one who was earnestly grateful. "Thanks," he said with a smirk. "Nice to know someone 'ppreciates what I do for our survival." He not-too-subtly sideways grinned at George, but his ears twitched and he faced San when she declared their departure.

"When we get to the truck we ought'a stop at a gun shop. I need more ammo, and princess here," he said of Aurora, "needs a gun. She can't just use that axe forev--"

He stopped abruptly and bit his tongue when San told them that there was someone out there. Aurora politely yet adamantly announced her intentions. She was going to be the one to address the stranger, whether it was alive or not. He already reached for his sawed-off shotgun, but Rory reminded him that guns are loud and get unwanted attention. Yeah, guns should only be used when there's already a horde, to save yourself. Otherwise, using melees or other silent weapons were preferable. Still, he wasn't about to let her die easily.

"All right, but we're behind ya." He still took out his shotgun just in case, and crept to a side of the entrance to listen, not peeking yet...

[George Darling]

His thick eyebrows furrowed in agitation, a frown tugging at his lips, as the furry brute shrugged off the whole situation while using those disrespectful nicknames he loved to issue. George could think up a few nicknames suitable for Pete, but he was far too much a gentlemen (or perhaps a prude would be a more proper classification, not that he would take such a title kindly) to utter such words in the presence of ladies. Being a decidedly temperamental and easily riled individual, George’s personality did not combine favorably with Pete’s. Five weeks prior, the haughty businessman wouldn’t have even considered spending more than a few moments around such a crude behemoth. Disasters made for strange bedfellows, indeed.

“Yes, and why not pick yourself up a bazooka, while you’re at it, for all the subtlety you demonstrate when dealing with these abominations!” He remarked to Pete’s comment about stopping by a gun shop. In his state of mind he was focused wholly on the large man, and he didn’t even register San’s comment that they should move on, the declaration instead falling by the wayside somewhere in the back of his mind. He opened his mouth to chastise Pete further, but the second statement San uttered stopped him then and there. His mouth becoming a thin line, his eyes widened as his head shot over to the direction the Asian girl had specified.

He took several steps toward the entrance in order to get a better look. He squinted to try and get a better look, though the distant figure remained ambiguous in nature as to whether they were normal or like those crazies. In either case there only appeared to be one of them, but so far as George was concerned, one was more than enough as it was.

His gaze shifted over to the attractive, young face of Aurora as she volunteered herself to go investigate. He didn’t like the idea of the girl going out there by herself, though secretly he was glad that he wasn’t appointed the task, being that he was the only male within the group whose weapons weren’t loud enough to wake the dead. “Of course, Aurora. But do be careful, now. If they are turned you come straight back and we’ll get to work gassing up the truck before more arrive.” He responded before his eyes again drifted over to the approaching figure.

As the blonde made her way toward the object of interest, George could feel his grip over his metal bat subconsciously tighten, his palms becoming sweaty. Removing a handkerchief from one of his pockets with his free hand, he lightly dabbed at the perspiration which also dotted his forehead. It wasn’t very hot in the building, though the whole situation made him nervous and uneasy. Returning the bit of cloth to its proper place, he gave his lips a quick lick as he waited with bated breath for some sort of a reaction or signal from Aurora.

[Miranda Wright]

Miranda tensed when she saw a woman exit the gas station and approach her, an ax hefted in her right hand, and her right hand instinctively moved towards her gun. While she could tell that the other blond wasn't a zombie -- zombies typically didn't bother with man-made weapons -- it was a woman with an ax. So she was naturally weary. Zombies weren't the only things that you had to worry about out there. Some survivors were known to have banded together in hostile gangs, or were otherwise criminals.

However, what Miranda called her cop instincts, which had been honed over the years, told her that the young woman wasn't a hostile, and she relaxed somewhat, though she still kept her eyes locked on the stranger's own. The woman, Aurora, explained that she was part of a group of survivors, and she placed the ax on the ground.

"Miranda. Miranda Wright." She cleared her throat, voice hoarse from disuse. "I'm from Los Angelos. You guys holed up in there?" She nodded in the direction of the gas station.

[Briar Rose]

Aurora's throat clenched and her heart skipped a beat when the strange woman reached for her gun. Would she die here, now? Weeks ago she did want to end it all, but her spirit was renewed since. She wasn't optimistic, but she was open to the idea. She had to keep going, she had to fight, she had to search. She didn't know for sure if the entire world was a barren wasteland. That's why she didn't want to die just yet: she still had something to live for, no matter how small.

Aurora smiled and exhaled softly in relief. The (very pretty, Aurora thought) woman introduced herself as Miranda Wright, a name that would immediately stick with the axe-bearer. She nodded upon the question.

"Yes," she replied politely yet only as loud as she needed to be. "Three others are inside. Where are you going, anywhere in particular?" She didn't wait for Miranda to answer. "Here, follow me and you can meet the others." She bent and picked up her axe. "Oh, just so you know... We're looting the gas station, but we're not... uh..." She awkwardly thought of an apt word to describe the amoral bandits. "We only take what we need. We're not one of those gangs. We know the threat is the biters, not people."

She gripped her axe's handle with both hands, arms stretched behind her back, like what a high schooler might do to a cheerleader baton between practicing. She stopped when the axe brushed against the backpack. "I can't promise you'll join us permanently, because I have to run it by them first. But when we decide you'll know. Let's go." She smiled again and held her axe in front of her. "Follow me, please."

She turned and swiftly entered the gas station. "It's all right! We're safe. This is Miranda." She turned and watched the new face enter.

[San]

Unlike Pete, San was outright unable to take her eyes off of Aurora. She couldn't. The lingering fear of that distant figure ending up being one of those hellish things, and taking her by surprise... She had to be on the ready, for her friend. For Rory.

Her gaze intense like a hawk's, the grip on her katana hard enough to whiten her knuckles, every muscle in her body tense and ready to spring into action, she waited and watched with baited breath... Breath that she held still the closer Aurora came to the figure. Whoever it was... they... didn't attack. They barely even budged from where they stood... they only moved about subtly... forcefully... in only the way a human could. Already, she was fairly certain this was a normal person they were dealing with... a lost survivor, possibly. But San was not relieved quite yet. She saw the figure make a peculiar motion, however, as if reaching for a weapon - causing the Asian woman to almost twitch with fear. The chilling possibility of the person having others lying in wait, prepared to ambush them all, slaughter them and make off with their supplies briefly occurred to her.

... But Aurora simply laid down her axe, and spoke calmly to the figure, making that familiar "arms-behind-her-back" posture. Polite as always... The stranger, however, responded with equal calmness. At least they didn't kill her on sight... It was still not quite enough to put San at ease, though. There weren't many people she had left to trust, in this world... this world where everyone was forced to either help or harm each other.

Aurora led the figure back towards the gas station - the closer they came, the more visible the stranger became, and it was now clear she was a young woman, probably in her 20's. As Aurora brought her into the building, San's cold, sharp gaze instantly scanned over every inch of her. The gun instantly caught her attention, in particular. A weapon was not unusual to have in this dangerous wasteland... but seeing it did little to soften San's distrust. That was something that would have to go away with time - and effort, on the stranger's part.

Seeing Aurora return safe and sound was enough to give San a bit of a breather, as she silently released built-up air from her nostrils. But she said nothing - nor did she show any emotion other than cold, hard, distant suspicion. She looked briefly at Miranda, again... but made no welcoming gesture towards her. Instead, she glanced over towards George and Pete, awaiting to see their own reactions to the newcomer.

[Pete]

Pete had hoped that George would take a hint and can it with the fussing, but the saga continued. He had waited until he stood by the door before responding to George. He didn’t look furious, but he did look weary. “A bazooka still wouldn’t be louder than yer mouth, jeeves. Maybe ya should yell in those nimrods’ ears—that ought’a destroy the brains.”

Remembering why he was at the door in the first place, he shifted his weight and peered through, to get a good look at the stranger. He scowled and cocked his shotgun when the woman reached for her gun. He was ready to unleash hell if that stranger so much as laid a fingernail on Rory. But the stranger stopped, and the two talked, yet not every word reached his feline ears.

“I tell ya,” Pete said lowly, “Rory’s too nice for this world.” He obviously cared for her, but he was annoyed at that moment. “Volunteerin’ to talk to a stranger who could kill her. She puts too much trust into people now, but the world’s not the same as it used’ta be.”

He stood up and holstered his shotgun behind his back after the two ladies returned. Aurora introduced the hot little number as Miranda, and Pete immediately worked his charm. “Well, hello, Miranda.” He grinned. “The end of the world just got better, it seems.” He didn’t approach her, but he did cast the ‘look’.

[George Darling]

The portly man’s eyebrows lowered to compliment his scowl as the furry colossus continued to make childish jabs at his expense. “Why, of all the-- At least you’d be safe, if that were the case! There’s little behind your thick skull to destroy!” George retorted to the wily feline. The way they fought, one could almost mistake them for a married couple. Though George’s actual wife was far fairer and far less furry, wherever she was. He certainly hoped that she and his three children were safe, wherever they were. He had to at least hold hope that they were alright, for the sake of his own sanity.

Having had enough interaction with Pete, the Englishman returned his attention back toward the situation at hand. The way the other figure moved proved that they weren’t infected, but hardly proved that they were safe. It was a cruel world out there since the outbreak started, and it wasn’t just those lumbering brain-deads to be concerned about. Disasters tended to bring out the worst in people, and while the creatures were slow and even slower-witted, humans were quick, intelligent, and capable of wielding weapons.

As if to emphasize his concerns, the figure made a motion which could only be perceived as reaching for a weapon. To have come this far only to be dispatched by a normal person, he thought to himself as a worst-case scenario of Aurora’s brains being splattered upon the street quickly flashed through his mind. When the two adopted more calm positions and started conversing, George untensed somewhat and let out a deep sigh of relief.

“Quite.” The middle-aged man responded to Pete’s remark about Aurora being too kind for the brave new world they had found themselves in. Instances in which George agreed with Pete were few and far between, but when the hulking cat was right (which was rare, so far as he was concerned), he was right.

When Aurora returned to the group she brought with her the other individual, who proved to be a rather attractive blonde who looked to be just a few years older than the other two females in the group. George cast Pete a sharp look as the brute made haste with the cheesy pick up lines. He could have chastised him about the matter, but there were more important matters at hand. “I’m George. George Darling.” He introduced himself, though he seemed impatient while doing so, and was quick to add on to his introduction. “Forgive me for rushing the pleasantries, but time is a luxury we cannot afford to waste right now. We need to gas up that blasted truck in all haste. We are in a rather dangerous part of the city right now, you realize. I would prefer to put as much road behind us as possible before nightfall.” He explained, again wiping at his forehead with his handkerchief.

Did the woman intend to go with them? George was skeptical of the prospect. She didn’t look particularly malicious, though looks could be deceiving. There could have very well been a van outside full of hardened looters prepared to jump them, finish them off, and steal their supplies. It wasn’t outside of the realm of possibility. Aurora was a sweet girl, if not somewhat naïve. The fact that she had even led her back to the group at all proved that she was a compassionate young woman. George only hoped it wouldn’t sneak around to bite her in the ass one day; or to bite all of them upon the posterior by association. His eyes shifted between Pete and San, trying to judge their reactions.

[Miranda Wright]

"No." Miranda gave a shake of her head at Aurora's inquiry. "I"m just... wandering for right now." Miranda trailed after her to meet her friends, three of them Aurora had said, waiting inside the gas station. As they walked together, she curiously studied her new companion. Upon closer inspection, Aurora was a little younger then what she had first believed -- possibly young to have still been in high school. Miranda couldn't help but feel a little sick at the idea of someone so young having to fend for themselves in this hell on earth.

She listened as Aurora tried to explain just what they were doing the gas station. "Don't worry about, I get it. I wouldn't bother with arresting anyone for looting these days. There's no point in it. Food and other necessities are hard to come by unless you're one of those survivalist types." Realizing what she had just said, she added by way of explanation a moment later, "Oh, uh, I'm a cop."

Aurora told her that she'd have to discuss the possibility of Miranda joining their number, causing Miranda to flash a rare smile at the girl. "Sure, I understand." That safety in numbers that joining up with other survivors would provide was a smart strategy, but she wasn't going to get her hopes up in case they told her no. She was glad but at the same time surprised by the fact that Aurora had so quickly considered having Miranda join up with them. They had just met after all.

Stepping inside the gas station after Aurora, the Los Angeleno immediately took notice of Aurora's companions: a large, heavily-built male cat, a thickset man who looked to be in his forties, with dark hair and mustache, and a young Asian woman whose hard eyes studied Miranda like a hawk before she looked to her male companions.

Miranda raised a hand in greeting. "Hey guys." She said, attempting to inject some cheer into her tone, though it probably sounded more forced and tired then anything. Miranda raised a slim eyebrow at the feline's flirting, but then the man suddenly introduced himself and quickly explained that they needed to get out of here and fast. She could understand his desire to get away from this area: she had had an encounter with a couple of biters herself when she had first blew into town. Thank God for her shotgun.

She wasn't very sure what her chances of being allowed to come with them were. "If none of you mind and you have some room, could I at least get a ride out of here? I've been walking for a while now."

[Briar Rose]

Unsurprisingly, San was stone cold to Miranda. Just a moment ago, Miranda revealed that she's a cop, so Aurora felt some inexplicable discomfort to being so rude to one with authority. Then again, there didn't seem to be a working police system anymore. Come to think of it, was Miranda really a former cop? She'd give the woman the benefit of the doubt for now. San's rudeness was blatant, so Aurora felt compelled to help put Miranda at ease, while 'politely' criticizing San at the same time. The younger blonde stepped closer within the group's proximity and gestured to San. She was quick with the introductions. "Welcome, Miranda! This is my best friend, San. She's not always so withdrawn."

Aurora looked to Miranda again and placed her free hand on her chest. "Like I said, I'm Aurora, but most people just call me Rory."

Pete's turn was next. She grinned a little. "This comedian's name is Pete." She looked to George, but he proceeded to introduce himself to Miranda. Aurora nodded immediately. "You're right. Let's get moving. San and I already took some things," she reminded everyone as she held up her axe, ready for action. "Thank you for not arresting us, Miranda." She beamed proudly. "I finally found a bar of soap. Don't worry, I'll share it."

[Pete]

There were only three things about George that got to Pete: his personality, his outbursts, and the fact that they were stuck in the same outfit. Strangely enough, George did agree with Pete about something: Rory's dangerous compassion. Despite his bias, Pete knew that George cared for the girls, even if San was often moody. So, he just dealt with the Englishman.

Once introduced, Pete grinned at Miranda, not saying anything. She really was cute. Aurora and San were great lookers, too, but way too young for his preference. If Miranda could handle a gun and wear those clothes as well as she could, he had a new interest in her.

George introduced himself and reminded everyone that the clock was ticking and the sun wouldn't stay up forever. Pete shrugged and started looking around the gas station. He stopped and looked to Miranda when Aurora implied the former was a cop. "You're a cop? Well, that's dandy! I just de-test shoplifters!" he exclaimed, as he picked up a packaged Twinkie and pocketed it, obviously intended as a joke.

(He was keeping the Twinkie, though. That thing had an expiration date!)

"I got no problem with her comin' with us," he said, but it wasn't exactly a warm tone. "Even if she did try somethin', we outnumber her. And we know she couldn't take me on. So, what's the threat? Oh! Before we go--"

He cracked his knuckles, wriggled his gloved fingers and began searching for the holy grail of nicotine. He wasn't finding it, and he grew incrementally more frantic by the second. "Where are the cigars? No more cigars?!" He grunted and returned to the group, his face bitter. "I'd kill ten of those biters for a Cuban right now."

[San]

San felt mild discomfort at having someone else introduce her - even Aurora, who had done it so often in the past - but all the same, she preferred it to be her friend than herself. At Aurora's follow-up comment, however, San gave her friend a look - one of awkwardness and slight annoyance. Was that really necessary? There was no point in friendly formalities in a situation like this, San felt - and this was but one point where she and her friend had a disagreement. But there was no use in dwelling over it. San let the comment slide, and continued to keep to herself and watch the goings on with cold, distant eyes.

San narrowed her eyes at Pete in piercing disgust when he approached Miranda. His 'greeting' was entirely to be expected of him. George, on the other hand, cut straight to the point, something San appreciated at the moment - they really did have to get going. She nodded silently along with Aurora, more than ready to hit the road again. Her attention turned to Miranda, however, who requested permission to join their party. In all honesty, San had no complaints. As suspicious as she initially was of the woman, she seemed as ordinary as anyone they would find out here - and, right now, the more ordinary the better, as far as people went. The question was whether or not she would be a burden... San could only hope she was skilled enough with that pistol. The others seemed to have already accepted Miranda into the group, so San felt no need to make her own acceptance known.

Her eyes anxiously darted to the fallen turned still lying in a heap on the floor. The smell of that thing would attract even more of them in no time flat - and they'd stood around here for far, far too long already. In any moment, one or two or a whole horde of them could show up. San, frankly, was getting impatient, and decided to make it known that she was ready to leave. She briskly stepped toward the door of the convenience store and shoved it open - her bloodied katana still in hand - and stood there, eying the rest of the group impatiently. Pete, of course, just had to stall time looking for something completely unnecessary. San's face scrunched up in irritation, and by the time he returned from his little search, she harshly uttered "Let's move, already."

[George Darling]

George’s face contorted into an expression of irritation and impatience at Pete’s antics. It was a face most present were familiar with, and one Miranda would soon be intimate with, if she hung around long enough, because it was one of his most common facial displays. Being an innately hot-tempered and impatient man, it came with the territory. He could have mentioned how the last thing a behemoth like Pete needed was a Twinkie, but George’s own significant gut would have made any such comments hypocritical. Besides, time was not on their side.

While Aurora and Pete seemed all for the company of the newcomer, the stuffy banker was hardly as convinced that she was a welcome addition. It was easy enough to think on the terms that giving her a chance was the humane thing to do. However, if she proved to be a liability it could be fatal mistake, not just for her, but for all of them. He didn’t notice any sort of melee weapon on her; just her pistol. That in and of itself was a troubling sign. Pete already attracted enough attention with his exceedingly noisy weapons of choice, and the last thing their group needed was a second dinner bell. “Oh, yes. The police have proven to be invaluable in this disaster thus far.” He remarked under his breath at her mentioning her position as a police officer in the old world.

His attention went to San when she approached the doorway, her impatience in wanting to leave seemingly matching, or possibly even exceeding, his own. “Quite right. We’ve remained here for quite long--” As he approached the doorway he very nearly tripped and fell over the corpse Aurora had dispatched earlier. Regaining his footing, he quickly scurried back and away from it, looking at it in sheer disgust. “Oh! B-blast it all! Let’s just go!” With an embarrassed frown upon his face he pushed past San, exiting into the open as he clutched his weapon of choice tightly, his eyes warily scanning for anything out of the ordinary. Just because he didn’t immediately see anything didn’t mean they weren’t out there, and he remained cautious to a point of near paranoia.

[Briar Rose]

---

There were many things Aurora could never get used to during the Apocalypse. She could never get used to never showering whenever she wanted. She could never get used to getting a bad night's sleep, whether by sleeping with one eye open and gripping the axe, or painful memories of her dead friends. Above all, she could never really get accustomed to being in a party whose members were in constant rotation.

Case in point, Miranda was missing without a trace. During a very frantic and terrifying invasion one night, there was a separation. A short yet thorough search turned up nothing, and it was hastily decided to hope Miranda was still alive out there and continue on.

Rory, seated in the truck, stared wistfully out the window, her forehead pressed against the glass.

[Pete]

Pete was large in both height and (especially) width, so he offered to sit in the truck's 'bed.' It wasn't exactly comfortable, and the bumps only reminded him that he was in the open air without a seat-belt, but he wasn't a wimp about it.

The fat cat knew he was probably the most 'well off' of the four. He didn't have anyone close to care about in this messed up world. He had relatives, sure, but he couldn't say he loved them. In fact, being a soulless, brain-munching zombie would have improved some of 'em. But it was still the mother of all inconveniences, for sure.

Of course, and he would never openly admit it to the other three, he hoped Miranda was okay... he really needed eye candy closer to his age. Seriously, why did it have to be her gone missing and not George?

Pete crossed his burly arms behind his head and used them as a pillow, resting on the truck's bed. "Hrn."