New York City {March 6}

Date: March 6
Location:West 72nd Street, New York City, New York


He was singing, swaying the tiniest bit in time with the wild beats of the drums and the soft shriek of the guitar. It wasn't his favorite song- not by far- but that did not mean that he wouldn't enjoy it. And it so fit the situation.

"They were crying when their sons left/ All young men must go/ He's come so far to find the truth/ He's never going home~" He sang, lifting his gun into his lap.

He had three guns- a shotgun, an automatic rifle, and a handgun. He really only needed the rifle, but more firepower was always welcome. He also had an aluminum baseball bat, a shovel, and a crowbar. Those were for close combat; only the only the bat had seen a lot of action.

It was dented, a little bent. It was also stained brown with blood. the grip had been re-wrapped with leather strips, and then pieces of fabric where the leather had worn off. His trusty bat.

The song changed, and he sighed when the brief lapse in the music left the echoing, haunting moans of the zombies below to echo in his ears.

How many of them were there?! All of New York City couldn't be infected, but it certainly sounded like it.

He'd been holed up in the apartment for months, living off of left-behind supplies and collected water. There was no one else in the building; he'd checked each room thoroughly within the first two days of his confinement. Either they had been infected, or they hadn't known that they'd given up the perfect shelter.

Zombies couldn't climb. It had been easy enough to destroy the stairs on the first floor, effectively keeping the zombies from reaching the upper levels. Then, before the power had gone out and the water system went down, he'd filled dozens of bathtubs, buckets, and sinks with water. They, along with the crates of bottles he'd found in a storage room, were his salvation.

Food had been easy enough to find, as well as flashlights and batteries. He'd gotten a collection of battery-powered CD players and radios, enough that he'd been listening to music from day one.

So, isolated and hidden in his fortress, Justin Daniel Jones was surviving the apocalypse in relative safety and comfort. Looters had tried to get in between the waves of zombies; he'd shot them from the landing just about the first floor. Zombies had found a staircase and he hadn't blown; his bat had served to eliminate them until he'd set the charges.

He was a motherfuckin' genius.

But he was also alone, and worried about his family. New Jersey hadn't made it to his apartment in time; she was probably holed up somewhere.

But he hadn't heard from any of this other siblings, or his father.

And he was starting to worry that he wouldn't.

((Show up? Radio him? Try to eat him? It's up to you. And, why yes, this is my example post from earlier. I'm lazy. .__.))

Date: March 6
Location: Lancaster,Pa
Zack Everglass (Pennsylvania)
Infection Status: Uninfected

All that ran through his mind was,

"What the hell was happening!?"

He was stuck in his mansion in the dark woods, far from the urban city. He really didn't like the city it was too noisy and crowded with people but, not anymore. The city was deserted and quiet which scared him, very much. He tried contacting his siblings but the phone lines were down, he worried a lot about them even though some of them were an ass to him. Luckly he had his stash of stuff down in the basement,everything he needed in order to survive for a pretty long time. He only groaned being so bored. He usually went out but with his axe and gun to make sure that there were no zombies nearby which he highly doubted there would be. Since most of the zombies were in the city.

He then tried again but grabbing his cell phone, he tried calling one of his close siblings New Jersey, she was pretty nice to him but she didn't pick up. He then continued down the list and called his other closest sibling New York. He only waited as the phone rang..and rang.