Post by Bruce Campbell on Apr 18, 2009 11:49:14 GMT
Washington D.C. a place of wealth, a home for the masses where even hardship businesses fluster and the world just keeps on spinning. WRONG. Washington D.C. a place of survival, an apocalyptic warzone where a man may kill his best friend without even realising it. Yet even if he did realise it was his best friend that just became a mere statistic in what would eventually be a sickening government report he would have no choice. This is unlike any war the human race has ever encountered before; this is a war between the infected and a population who may well become just like their foe or torn to pieces by them.
Bruce Campbell, a known survivor, unarmed, starving and heavily fatigued carefully steps along the sidewalk, not to sure where he had strayed to. The only thing he could really make out was the vantage point of the high school; infected occupied. Although he had encountered some strange happenings in the forest almost six years ago, a story Bruce kept to himself and only to himself in fear of being called crazy, but, it was like a stroll in the park compared to these happenings. Even back in the day Bruce had the trusty boomstick that he treasured but its whereabouts now is unknown to him or anyone else.
It was beginning to grow dark now, not something Bruce particularly wanted, but, food had to be the priority no matter what. Sure he could have tried to persuade a couple of others to come with him but, then he’d have to deal with the indecisiveness of them during these dark hours. Liabilities. However, perhaps that was for the best, after all not only is he going to be isolated in the night in a matter of hours but, he’s in no condition to fight off anyone human never mind anything infected. He’d give it a good old go of course though; he swiftly turns around, trying to overcome his fatigue; were they footsteps he just heard?
Bruce Campbell, a known survivor, unarmed, starving and heavily fatigued carefully steps along the sidewalk, not to sure where he had strayed to. The only thing he could really make out was the vantage point of the high school; infected occupied. Although he had encountered some strange happenings in the forest almost six years ago, a story Bruce kept to himself and only to himself in fear of being called crazy, but, it was like a stroll in the park compared to these happenings. Even back in the day Bruce had the trusty boomstick that he treasured but its whereabouts now is unknown to him or anyone else.
It was beginning to grow dark now, not something Bruce particularly wanted, but, food had to be the priority no matter what. Sure he could have tried to persuade a couple of others to come with him but, then he’d have to deal with the indecisiveness of them during these dark hours. Liabilities. However, perhaps that was for the best, after all not only is he going to be isolated in the night in a matter of hours but, he’s in no condition to fight off anyone human never mind anything infected. He’d give it a good old go of course though; he swiftly turns around, trying to overcome his fatigue; were they footsteps he just heard?
