Malokei had spent the entire night reloading his guns and planning his next moves. He spent the entire morning clearing out the police station since he knew that it was overrun before they could organize and set up a defense of the people of the United States of America. His silenced glock made no noise as he dispatched the zombies throughout the police station.

He was just in the process of neutralizing last of the walking dead when he heard the first gun shots from several blocks away. And over the course of the next half hour he scrambled to comandeer and don recently aquired riot gear with ballistic helmet. He looked like six feet, two hundred pounds of vigilante justice.

He was just finished strapping the holster of his .45's on when he heard the sound of actual living people blocks away. Malokei slung his "Tommy Gun" over his shoulder and moved towards the administrative offices windows to asses whether or not they were civilians or criminals with the mal intent of stealing from his newly secured safe area.

To the groups nine o clock there was a mob of undead forming from smaller groups and making their way toward the smalling contigent of people. At their slow rate of travel they'd be right by the group as they made it to the courtyard in front of the main entrances doors. "Shit. Looks like I gotta rescue some kids." muttered Malokei in a low gravely tone to himself. With "Tommy Gun" in hands he kicked the door to the police station open, marched outside and attempted to signal using his smg that there was zombies moving up on their flank. 

"WOAH!" Robert ducked and swiveled around at hearing the gunshots. "You hear that? Some zombie's got a gun!"

"Gun-zombies!" Terry pretended he wasn't frightened. He dove behind a trash can and peeked out of the side, but he couldn't be certain where the gunshots came from.

Malokei narrowed his eyes and scanned the surrounding area for the source of gunfire. He didn't bother to duck or cower like the other survivors that were located up the street. He deduced that the shots were from a pistol smaller than
.45 caliber.

"MOVE IT GODAMNIT! YOU PEOPLE GOT ZOMBIES MOVING UP ON YOUR LEFT FLANK! GET YOUR ASSES OVER HERE!" yelled Malokei over the loudening moans of the mob of zombies.

Ethan didn't duck and cover for two reasons. One, his ankle had swelled to the point that all he could do was limp quickly, and two, "I'd rather be shot than eaten alive anyways," he muttered.

Brian was confused, the zombies, the shots and the yelling made him disoreintated. He could only see one thing, the police station. Running towards the police station, hitting every zombie in his way. Dashing into the building he went to the back of the room, running his fingers through his hair. Sitting down and watching the door he did one of his relaxation techniques, mainly grabbing something out of the surroundings and tinkering with his weapon.

Malokei raised the "tommy gun" up to his shoulder and took aim at mob of zombies. With speed and patience he squeezed off six well placed bursts of thunderous cover fire. Each shot hit home with a nickle sized entry wound and a melon sized cranial destroying wound. The hollow points from the .45 caliber sub machine gun were perfect for dispatching the already dead thing. He grunted as the group of survivors moved by him. "Hurry up!" He ordered as he took one more shot at the mob and stepped into the police station lobby.

Brian was in there, making mad movements with his hands and seemingly instaling something into the bat. He was obviously very, very worried. He didn't even look up as Malokei entered, just gave a freightened little squeeking noise.

Once Ethan got inside he instantly collapsed onto the ground, holding his ankle and swearing.

Brian looked up at Ethans swearing, watching him collapse. He got up slowly and walked next to Ethan. "Need a hand?" he asked nervously.

"I'm good here, actually," Ethan said. The idea of getting up seemed too terrible to even contemplate.

"Ok..." Brian said, getting up again. "If you need anything..." he said, wondering back to the table and fidling madly with the bat on the table.

"We're not out of the woods yet there kiddies. Ya'll just got a mob of a three dozen on our asses. So I reckon we need to start barricading now!" ordered Malokei in an authoritatively grating voice as he barred the doors with broken shotgun and began moving furniture against the entrance.

"There are people still out there!" Brian said, running next to Malokei and trying to stop him.

"Yo, dude, wait up, lemme in!" Robert vaulted over the unfinished furniture barrier Malokei was setting up. "And wait up a sec, everybody's still out there! There are like seven more people!"

"Shit!" answered Malokei as he unholstered on of his m1911 pistols. "You know how to use this boy?" Asked Malokei as he extended the handgun towards Robert handle first.

"What? Just cause I'm black I know how to use a gun?! What's wrong with you?!" Robert yelled, extremely offended.

"Shut up and use the gun" Brian said, his movements becoming more spasmatic and quick. He was sitting at the table again, fidling with his bat.

"Gimme a gun," Ethan said, reluctantly hauling himself to his feet. 'I'm good with paintball,' he thought, 'The real thing can't be too different.'

Brian threw a small screw driver over his shoulder, it hit the gun locker and bounced off. The door opened slightly and a gun bounced out, it rolled out with the screw driver and Brian picked them up. He nearly tossed the screw driver at Ethan and Robert but managed to get it right and threw the gun. "Who the hell is everyone anyway?"

"Whatchoosay, little boy?" Robert said, grabbing the gun and gesturing at him suggestively. "Maybe have a little respect for yer elders, huh?"

Brian grumbled, fiddling with his bat again. Suddenly the bat's end shot out on a chain that Brian had been installing. It thunked into the wall next to Robert, the rotor grinding into the wall for a second. Brian looked along the length of the chain bat and pulled it back. The bat slid back to normal "What was that?" he asked.

Ethan caught the gun and clicked off the safety. "Yes, let's fight each other, because obviously we have nothing bigger to worry about," he said, then limped to the window and started shooting at zombies.

"Who's fighting?" Brian asked, he had really done that by accident. That was his problem, his life was one gigantic accident.

"We're fixing to have a fight, if you don't get on your toes and help the other survivors inside before that mob overruns us. So if you're accompanying me outside to lay down surpressive fire while the others get inside here. Then we'll barricade and play grabass till the cows come home." Asserted Malokei over the child-like bickering of the other survivors. He marched to the entrance and propped it open enought to take aim on any zombie too close to the others for comfort.

Brian shook his head and walked up to the entrance. "I cant get them until Im in range" he said, looking at his now extended bat. "I guess Im helping people in."

Robert sneered, but didn't say anything further. He shot almost blindly into the crowd, but did his best to avoid the survivors.

Malokei took a deep breath and began taking aim on the zombies that appeared to prove the most threatening for the survivors outside. Each shot from the thompson roared death to each zombie. His shots were precise to the point that they passed by the people and into zombie heads with a satisfying spurt of brain matter and fluids upon the expansion of the hollow points mushrooming.

Yet with every zombie killed, the shot drew three more, and the crowd was getting thicker before it was getting thinner.

"Oh hell... they're in range now" Brian said, aiming his bat at the approaching crowd of undead bodies. The bat shot out and the nearest zombie hit the ground with out its head. It was a lucky shot though because the zombie he had hit had fallen over and then been hit by the bat. The chains whipped back into the bat, the head of the zombie scraping off the bat on the ground.

Rachel ran. Rachel ran until she tripped. Then she fell. She fell neck-first onto a random shard of glass stuck in the ground. She died.

"...Where'd the naked chick go? I don't see her!" Robert asked, panic rising in his throat.

Mirror, in a fit of white hot rage, attacked a group of zombies and attempted to pull them apart with her teeth. Unfortunately, the zombies were much better at this form of combat.

Malokei slung his "tommy gun" and pulled his silenced Glock
Model 17. He moved further out passed the door and began taking promixity shoots to zombie heads. "COME ON GIRL! We'll have to mourn her later!" Order Malokei as he stopped nearly four yards from Mirror. He saw the girl get impaled on the broken beer bottle and knew that after only a few moments she'd be back as one of them. There was nothing he could but help the other survivors out and prayed that they would make it through the mob unscathed.

Brian followed Malokei out from the barricade, he would have moved earlier but he didn't want to get infront of all those guns. Swinging his bat it whipped out like a chain, wrapping itself around a small group of zombies. Brian pulled and the zombies heads popped off, rolling to the ground.

"Get back! We need to get back inside before these walking sacks of shit surround us" ordered Malokei to Brian and the others who had ventured out of the cades to come help get the rest of the survivors. "FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO DON'T GET IN NOW! THERES A LOADING AREA THAT IS STILL OPEN! GO AROUND!" added Malokei as he got back into the police station.

"Alright" Brian said, tugging at the bat. He had shot it out again and it was stuck. It was stuck in the back of a zombies head but Brian couldn't see that at the moment. With one last tug the crowd gave way, making the zombie fly forward and bowl atleast five more over. Brian looked at the mess of limbs once and ran back to the station.

Ethan hadn't moved, since he couldn't really, and continued to sharp shoot the zombies from the station. When Rachel died all he could think was, 'Damn, that was my favorite jacket, too.'

From about a block away, Catch had hid on a low rooftop, sincerely hoping that all the tales of zombies being unable to climb held true. He peered over the edge upon hearing gunshots, and what he would hope to be other human voices above the continual zombie moaning. "There's no chance of me surviving here for long," he thought,"...so..." Scrambling down the fire-escape, he slid onto the roof of an abandoned car and proceeded to jump quickly from car to car down the street towards the policestation.
Despite a few smashed windshields and car alarms, Catch jumped off the last car next to the police station, dodged a couple zombies, and skidded into the loading area. Only once inside did he stop. Panting heavily, he glanced around, sincerely hoping he hadn't made the wrong decision...and judging by the state of the survivors within the station, he wasn't all too sure.

Malokei reached out and pulled Robert back into the police station by the scruff of his shirt. He could tell Robert was in shock of the deterioration of the situation but he wasn't about to let him die like the others. "Come on Boy! We don't got the time to kill them all yet!" ordered Malokei as he yanked him inside of the police station.

Ethan quickly ran out of bullets, "Hey, throw me a new clip, if ya got one!" He called to Malokei.

Malokei slipped the last of his .45 caliber pistol clips to Ethan. "Make it count!" ordered Malokei as he struggled to get Robert under control.

Ethan nodded and replaced his last clip. A zombie punched a rotting fist through the window next to him and Ethan flinched then quickly fired, taking out the cadaver.

"The girl! She's still out there! We gotta save her!" Robert struggled against Malokei, trying to point out Rachel in the crowd.

"She's dead" Brian yelled from the back of the police station "She's dead and one of them!"

"Get a grip you fuckin' kid! Go to the door next to the locker room! Make sure its open! Cause theres an assload of guns in there that we'll be needing to get the fuck out of here!" Ordered Malokei as he slammed began the arduous process of digging through his pack for ammo and assorted gear for the situation.

Terrance Perry sensed the growing impatience of his team, and so he did what every great leader has done at some point during their reign of success: he stumbled out of the armory with more lead than he could really carry. Also, it looked really cool.
To once again establish himself as the dominant alpha male, Terry quickly examined Robert for bite marks or other signs that he might have died, and the proceeded to strike a very inspiring pose, one that consisted of one gun per hand - not necessarily pointing in the same direction.

"Woah! Dude! Personal space invaded! Back off!" Robert batted Terry away, trying to avoid getting caught on the nasty side of the rediculous amount of weaponry he'd accumulated. "Where the hell'd you come from, anyway?"

Brian was throwing his bat back and forth threw the zombies, standing by a window and swinging his bat at times. More and more zombies fell under the bat as he swung it.

"Dude, check it! This maniac's back!" Robert yelled at Brian.

"What?" he yelled, shooting the bat out again and catching some zombies head. When it comes back Brian turned around and looked at Terry. "Overkill much?"

Malokei procured a hand grenade from his rucksack and returned to the foyer of the police and observed the dialogue of the other survivors. "God damnit kid! Learn to load your weapons. There's not a clip loaded in either of those pussy nine milimeters." commented Malokei on Terry's choice in weapons. He pulled his silence Glock out and head shotted a zombie that moved near the double doored entrance. "Get to 'cading!" ordered the disgruntled survivor in a swat uniform.

Catch, having stayed a fair distance away from the area of battle due to having no knowledge of how to work the guns that were now strewn about, quickly scanned the room for decent barricade material. He tipped over a large, thick desk and shoved it towards the door.

"Whoa! How the hell did that kid get in here?!" yelled Malokei as he observed Catch moving a desk towards the door.

"Ummm...the back door?" Catch said, "And honestly, does it really matter?" He propped the desk against the door and ran back to grab some chairs, "Might be more helpful to wonder how the hell do we keep the zombies out, or how we're going to survive this mess..."

"Considering that if there's a hole big enough for you to get in there's a hole big enough for them to get in, I'D SAY IT MATTERS A HELLUVA LOT!" Robert yelled, unnerved by the sudden appearance of two people in a place he thought was supposed to be cleaned out and secure.

Catch dropped the chairs, and froze. "Oh shit," he yelped, quickly running this through his mind, before picking up the chairs and bolting to the back of the police station.

"Woah, wait up!" Robert yelled after him, running after him and dragging a huge table behind him. It made a really loud whining noise and was totally screwing up the tiling job.

Once the chairs were firmly wedged against the doors, Catch ran into the nearest office and tipped over a monster of a filing cabinet, struggling to move it back up against the door.

Robert pulled the table in front of him and rammed it into the filing cabinet, pushing with all his high school football might.

A loud honking noise could be heard inside of the police station as Steven Entwhistle floored it from the hospital. He swerved to avoid the zombies as best as he could, but they were everywhere. Occassionally he slammed into one and freaked out as the body parts exploded on the windshield. He fought back nausea as the ambulance ran out of wiper fluid.

Robert's ears perked up at the wail of the ambulance. "Oh, snap!" He panicked. "The fucker's know how to drive! We're doomed! GAME OVER, MAN! GAME OVER!"

Steven swerved off the road and jumped over the concerte parking barrier of the station parking lot. He swung around back and slammed the vehicle intot he doorway. He blared the horn again and opened the window a little bit. "Is anyone there??? There's zombies everywhere! Some one please help me!!!" There was sheer panic in his voice. He was far past freaking out.

The sudden slam against the police station sent powdering bits of ceiling cascading down and cracks along some of the lesser supported walls. Malokei swung around reloaded his glock and hastily sauntered over through the police station to the back loading area where Steven's ambulance sat wedged through the door and the thick sliding gate was bent and warped out of the door way. Malokei leveled his glock off and squeezed off two bursts at a zombie that had become pinned next to the passeneger's side door. "turn that thing around and back it in, wheel need those wells in a whole godamn second. Either that or come help us barricade." Ordered Malokei to the freightened man in the ambulance.

Steven yelled when the zombie was shot right beside him. When the man turned the gun on him, he fainted, his head falling right down on the horn, setting it off.

"Oh godamnit! I try to someone a godamn favor and they up and fuckin' die on me." Said Malokei to himself at the recent turn of events. The entire half hour he had watched two people die to their own stupidity. It's like he was surrounded complete incompetent idiots. The only of them that showed any sort of promise was crippled and by his best judgement bitten by the monster that he'd spent all night trying to hide from. "Now this! Now fuckin' this." mumbled Malokei to himself as he cut steven loose using his kbar and pulled him throught he windshield of the ambulance.

Brian covered Malokei as he clambered threw the zombies. The bat chewing threw them with les speed and power now, the engines were getting clogged with zombies pieces and Brian was getting tired.

Malokei had managed to pull the unconcious man out of the ambulance and into the police station. Somewhere in the whole ordeal he manged to cut his leg on the ambulance. Even throughout his tough clothing it had been felled by as little much as a jagged piece of metal sticking from the grill of the now wrecked medical vehicle. "Shit." muttered Malokei in realisation of irony of the situation as he dragged the man to where the other survivors were. In all his preparations his unawareness of the most minute piece of aluminum had sealed his fate though at present he was only aware of the slight sting.

To the zombies, that teensy little wound smelled like a 70% off sale at Macy's would to a teenage girl. They bum rushed the area with surprising force, moaning and shrieking like babies without hubcaps. They overtook the ambulance and pushed into the building despite our heroes' best attempts at fending them off. They dogpiled onto Malokei, and those who had missed their chance stumbled after Robert and Brian eagerly.

The moment had finally come, as it sometimes did, that Terrance Perry was struck with a sudden and history altering understanding. The guns were, in fact, empty.
Then, in a trend altering turn of events, he had another revelation. There was an ambulance! Ambulances mean hospitals. Hospitals are good things. It was a very complicated train of thought, but it seemed to be going places.
"Guys! All we've got to do is talk them into going to the hospital! Zombies! Don't worry, it's cool!"
Also, he wondered if Malokei could speak zombie.

"Are you crazy, man?!" Robert meant to yell. What came out was a high-pitched, obnoxiously girly shreik as the zombies advanced. Hands shaking wildly, he shot in what he hoped was the general direction of the advancing zombie horde. A sudden cry of despair sounded from outside as a bird fell from the sky, victim to a random bullet. The zombies, quite intrigued, left in search of the source of this noise.

Brian was spinning round and round, the bat whipping out and mangling the surrounding zombies. He looked like a whirling dervish as he spun round and round screaming "OHMYGODWHYDOESTHISHAPPENTOME?"

In his his last moments of life he had managed pull the pin out of the grenade along with primer bar. In his cold dead hands was a live explosive that only needed the lightest bit of motion to set off.

Steven woke when all the zombies began screaming. "Oh my god!!!!" HE put the ambulance in reverse and floored it, reluctantly the ambulance answered his call, wrenched the bay door down when he popped off the dock and flew backwards.

Ethan had finally ran out of the last clip of bullets he had. Sitting back, panting harshly and covered in cuts from the broken window he sighed. "Somehow, I really want to sleep," he said, and fell over to do just that.

Catch pulled desperately at the filing cabinet, which had been a good barricade, but was now blocking what he could se as his only way out. He managed to shift it just enough to get through the doors. Panting, he jumped as he saw a small mob of zombies ambling towards him. Quickly, he pulled himself up onto the nearby dumpster, calculating what would have to be done to reach the relative safety of a roof.

"What!? Man, are you insane?!" Robert yelled at the now unconcious Ethan. "You can't sleep here! It ain't safe no more! We gotta get outta here before we get eaten!" He yelled to his comrades. "If we bum rush 'em we can make it! Come on! YAAAAAAH!" He slammed his shoulder into a zombie and set off a domino effect, flattening a good dozen or so. He leapt onto Catch's dumpster, making it skid a bit until it hit the wall behind it.

Brian was still flailing wildly, his movements getting slower. He saw the dumpster skid around and had an idea. Jumping on a second he rode a dumpster over several zombies, when the dumpster stopped he looked down surrounded by Zombies.

Catch almost lost his balance as the dumpster hit the wall. Flailing, he managed to stay on the dumpster. "If we can climb to that window, we should be able to make it to the roof." he said, pointing to a barred window halfway between them and the rooftop. Unfortunately, it lay to the right of the dumpster, and above the zombies. Quickly measuring the distance, he jumped and grabbed onto the bars, swinging before making his way to the top of the window. Nervously biting his lip, he lunged for the edge of the roof, gripping it with one hand. He matched the other hand and pulled himself up over the edge. "Not too bad..." he said, panting.


Boom.

Steven almost bolted right out of the ambulance when the blast went off. He found his fingers tightening even more around the steering wheel. Today was such a regular day. Wake up, have a bowl of frosted flakes, a cup of coffee, go to work. Then it all goes to hell from there. Suddenly everyone he knows and everyone he loves has become zombies. And now if matters couldn't get any worse, the only place he's found regular people, just got blown up by a grenade from a gun toting maniac.

It was a slow motion moment. It was like every action movie he'd ever seen in his life, every drop of testosterone that was used to concoct every badass scene he'd ever witnessed, packed into one perfect moment. Robert flew off the top of the dumpster, his mouth wide open in a masculine scream, his eyes bulging out of his head as he felt the heat hurl him from the police station. It was like the heat slowed down that moment, that long, drawn-out yell that escaped his lips---and then put everything on fast forward as he slammed into the asphalt and slid for several feet.

As the grenade exploded a shot of primal insticnt shot threw Brian. His main insinct was RUN! He dashed forward, still standing on the dumpster. As he ran out he stepped onto a zombie's head, crushing it beneath him and jumping off it. He ran from one zombie to another, knocking heads off whenever he could. He didn't know when, where or how but he was going away NOW!

The blast threw Catch off the roof. Thankfully, a dumpster broke his fall. He landed with a very loud thud amidst dozens of garbage bags. Partially deafened by the explosion, he shook his head, trying to get rid of the stars scattered across his vision.

Secretly, Terrance Perry knew he should be dead. He was well aware that by all rights, he should have been blown to smithereens. He also knew, somewhere in his deep and manly stride, that his survival was thanks to a glitch in the laws of physics to account for the mass and quantity of undead flesh between himself and the explosion coupled with his volumetric location within the station such that the blast effected everything but him, and that it was really pretty cool, actually. It was this chain of unlikely events that combined to reveal to Terry that it was his fate to lead this rag-tag team of soulful and heartfelt strangers on a journey that would touch the hearts and minds of little children for years to come. It also directly resulted in the invention of the "zombie suit", which Terrance was more than happy to model for his followers. And so he did.
And for the record, the pose he struck then was historically cool.

Face into the asphalt, Robert groaned. The zombies around him groaned back. Flipping himself over, he gave a girlish shreik at the circle of zombies around him who had just noticed him. "HELP HELP HELP HELP!"

That was just when the running Brian Deed, still taking the forehead road, managed to get his foot stuck in a zombie's mouth. He tripped, the top of the zombie's head flying off and him landing on half the zombies around Robert. His hand holding the bat had flown out as he fell and had sawn threw the zombies on the other side, leaving a much larger circle around the two guys.

Catch peered over the edge of the dumpster, caught between the decision of hiding or running away as fast as his legs could carry him. He was still slightly dazed from the fall and just hoped the zombies wouldn't be able to reach him in the dumpster before he could make up his mind.

---

Is anyone still alive?
wait, what just happened?
OMG ZOMBIES!
WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON