Cleanup In Aisle 13 - Long Island Supermarket[All]

[Leah Evans]

She had been just walking into her dorm room and had nonchalantly switched on her crappy television set when she heard the news. As she threw her messenger bag down and pulled out her heavy anthology books she reached for the crappy gray remote to flip through the channels of whatever was running on this day around 12:30 PM. The answer a few talk shows, a lot of 'Law and Order', but then channels one through 7 all had the same thing. A solemn looking reporter who was sweating purfusely, rattling off the news as what little choppy clips they had were shown.

Leah froze. With widened, horror struck eyes she watched the television set. Aerial shots of Brooklyn, New York City. People attacking other people, even in the distance you could see the blood splatter. There was a scientist on the line talking about something, Leah tuned him out. She was in shock and she knew exactly what this was. Too often had she sat in the theater of her school, drunk with her classmates jokingly planning for such a scenario until 4 AM in the morning and now... Now what had started as a drunken 'this is what I would do' was now a reality. Now she had to snap into action.

Shoving what she could into a messenger bag she grabbed her phone and ran to the door. No need for those books anymore. Opening the door of her suite dorm room she heard the screams in the hallways. People were running, some throwing things. Someone had set something on fire. The outbreak hadn't reached LI yet (it still had to cover the Bronx, Queens, and Manhattan) but it would soon. That gave her forty five minutes. That was more than enough.

As she hurried through the hall her finger dialed her cell phone. Holding it to her ear she hurried down the two flights of stairs. Ring. Ring. Ring. Damnit! Her family wasn't picking up. Now she had to call 'the fam', the people she made the plans with. First on the list was her best friend Zach. Ring. Ring. DAMNIT. Was he asleep? He wasn't a theater major so he could afford to miss classes. Leah was tempted to go and get him but that'd waste precious time no.. All she could do was leave a voice mail and pray that he was alright.

"Zacharonie this is Leah. Wake up. Oh god.. Well, when you wake up meet me at Pathmark. You should know why. Turn on the tv. DAMNIT ZACH!" She was growing to frusterated so she slammed her phone shut and shoved it into her pocket. By now she was outside and to her jeep. She opened it and hopped inside. The people who knew what was going on were panicking, some decided to stay in the dorms, others were making a run for it. Leah was doing the latter.

Never in her life had she sped. Driving always made her nervous but she hightailed it off of campus like her life depended on it.. And it did. She had a game plan. All because of fucking around with Zach and her improv boys one night when the theater was closed after a comedy show and the lights were off and that's what you did when you were drunk and high. First stop gas. She sure as hell wasn't going to pay for it so she didn't wait around. No, she made a run for it. Next stop would be the grocery store and then for weapons. She'd save that for last just because she wasn't sure that she'd be able to handle it.

Climbing out of the jeep she slammed the door shut and ran to Pathmark. It was eerily calm so apparently the shoppers and employees hadn't heard. Leah wasn't going to break it to them, but maybe they'd realize something was up when she raced out with a cart full of groceries without paying. No time to worry about that now, hopefully Zach got her message and would be inside with a cart already (she had bought time by stopping for gas).

Grabbing a cart she practically ran down each aisle. Grabbing everything her arms would hold. The great thing about Pathmark, that as an upstater she could appreciate, was that it didn't just carry food but everything. So not only did she grab dry goods, cans, but also drinks, a sleeping bag, matches, pots and pans, even some parishables because she could fit it. It was upon racing down a certain aisle that she stopped. Alcohol... Well, it was free and if she made it through... She'd need it. And so she ran down the aisle grabbing a bit of everything piling the cart so high that it was a miracle it didn't fall. Everything would fit in her jeep's trunk.

Now she was pushing it hurriedly toward the door secretly cursing under her breath, praying that Zach got the message.

[Jim Doyle]

Lipton Pasta Sides. Alfredo, or Stroganoff? Alfredo or stroganoff? Or parmigiana? Why did they make so many kinds? How was a boy supposed to choose?

Jim scratched his head through the beanie hat he'd pulled over his hair, and dumped one of each kind into the rickety basket hanging from his arm. So far, the contents of the thing were fairly predictable, typical. A four-pack of Speckled Hen, bottle of Jack, lipton noodles, some ramen, something microwaveable that looked only vaguely edible, and a pack of steaks. Not a single green thing seemed to sprout from the basket. he'd given up on trying to look healthy while checking out at the register, because it only ever rotted in the crisper drawer in the end anyway. For good measure, a packet of cheesy poofs went into the basket as he passed them too.

Jim had immigrated to New York with high hopes of the good life, the fancy life, the famous life. but what he'd found, upon leaving Ireland, was much of the same thing with only a little less rain. He'd taken a job as a motorcycle courier and hadn't moved up much from there since. Still, at least it wasn't Belfast. he did miss some things though. The pubs, the beer, the food. Not to mention some choice friends. Brendan, John. The wild shenanigans. As it stood, he only had a couple of friends in the city, and both of those were guys he worked with. And as far as the girlfriend front went? Well, it might as well have been the sahara in the middle of a dry spell, not for lack of trying, mind you. Jim -was- a sweet guy, but he was also somewhat reluctant to approach strangers since he'd moved, and tended to keep to himself, feeding his cat and watching re-runs of M*A*S*H until four am.

But still, still it wasn't Belfast, and that was something. This was New York City, world famous, land of the stars and of glitz and glamour, even if the heating in his apartment didn't work and the sink dripped constantly. But he had to believe it was all it was meant to be, because if he didn't, he was up the shit creek without a paddle. It was this, or home, and if he had to choose between the two, it would be New York.

Lugging the burdened basket around the corner toward the registers, Jim, ever caught in an awkward or embarrassing moment, it seemed, careened into a fast moving carriage piled high with just about everything the store sold by the looks of it. And at the other end of the carriage was a young woman who looked in a hurry. Fire exploded along his shins where they connected with the rungs, and he swore under his breath and gripped his basket.
"Hey, watch it wi'that, will ya? Ye'll run some poor bugger over."

[Leah Evans]

"Hey, watch it wi'that, will ya? Ye'll run some poor bugger over."

"Fuck man!" Leah cried out both in surprise and in utter annoyance. Tensions ran high, and understandably so, and she really wasn't in the mood to be messed with as things stood. If these people had no idea what was going on, though she didn't want anyone to die or become infected, she didn't have the time to waste explaining it to each and every individual. She wanted so badly to not even look at this man, to just keep moving and get on her way, but what little awkward compassion she had left took over and she found herself hurriedly bending down to pick up whatever was dropped.

"Sorry. Sorry." She murmured quickly. If this was going to be their last day alive she didn't want to arrive in heaven and have god use this moment as a citation to hell. That's if heaven even existed mind you. Her breathing was short and shallow, racing. She was going about it so quickly that there was obviously something wrong. She obviously had to be somewhere. In reality anywhere but here. They'd be sitting ducks.

She didn't know the layout of this market too well though she had spent many a late night blazed with her friends planning little pranks like 'supermarket freeze' in the corridors just for laughs. She couldn't afford to be stuck in here though deep down she was probably buying a little bit of time for Zach... If he was even coming. Lord knows what was happening with him. For a minute she felt guilty, but she had to get out of here. She had to survive. And these were just the beginning stages.

All at once she shoved the Lipton bags right into his little red basket. Now she could get a move on again but for a moment she caught glimpse of something in his cart. The print. Any college student would recognize the brand and Leah Evans was a senior. She knew it well. "Nice." A moment of her usual humor even when inside she was unwraveling. She couldn't manage her signature smirk but gave a bit of a 'atta boy' nod. "Brocolli and Cheddar. The best." She looked up for a moment momentarily meeting his eyes before snapping right back into her earlier race against the clock.

She returned to her cart, both hands grabbing the handle bar and began to push it away clearly bypassing the checkout lines because she wasn't going to pay. It was heavier than expected but the adrenalin was pushing her through. That's when, from some distance away, the automatic doors opened to reveal three other young people, college students. And upon seeing Leah they rushed over, widened eyes the group exchanged words right out in the open for Jim to see. It was now horribly evident something was up. After a quick nod the group ran off with their own carts leaving Leah alone to deal with Jim.

Leah looked up for a moment, still a bit breathless and cursing herself inwardly for hesitating and giving in she hurried back toward Jim. Her voice was low and rushed. "Grab whatever you can and run. Fucking run." She wasn't meaning to be vague but what else could be said? If she told him what was really going on he wouldn't believe her. That's when her brown eyes caught something on the overhead television above the checkout that everyone was ignoring because the sound was off.

For a moment Leah was transfixed, blankly staring at the images in awe. Hopefully Jim would see them too and just follow. Breaking her gaze from the television she gave Jim another quick look before giving up and racing back to her cart. Hands fumbled in her jeans pocket and brought out her cellphone, dialing Zach's number again. Ring. Ring. Ring. "DAMNIT ZACH! WHERE ARE YOU?" She announced loudly to no one in particular causing a few people to turn around. This would make her eventual run out even more noticable.

[Zach Dorian]

Mmm...college life. There's no life like it. Living off of ramen noodles cooked on a hot plate (if you were lucky) or a microwave, drinking tons and tons of alcohol-filled beverages, and wild crazy sex parties. Well, for Zach, two of the three were true. The first two, if you couldn't guess. He was still working on getting the invite to the latter. But hanging with friends, like Leah, was just as good. So was skipping class occasionally. He was going to be a doctor, probably an oncologist. Or, if that didn't work out, a psychiatrist. It'd all be fun.

Leah was in theater, and since Zach hung out with her so much, he'd also become a bit of an entrainment junkie. Mostly movies. Ask him any question about any movie ever and he'd probably know it. Especially since iMDB was his second tab opened on the internet after Facebook. But occasionally, he'd check the news. But not right now. Know why?

He was napping.

His phone rang. Twice. The second time woke him from his nap. He yawned and stretched, reaching for the phone but missing it, falling off of his bed in the process. "Gah! Damnit...seriously?" He announced to the pale yellow walls of his dorm room groggily. He then proceeded to listen to the voicemail his bestie Leah left him, taking a seat on his bed and flipping on the TV, yawning.

"Zacharonie this is Leah. Wake up. Oh god.. Well, when you wake up meet me at Pathmark. You should know why. Turn on the tv. DAMNIT ZACH!"

Zach was concerned, to say the least. And, in turning the TV on, the news popped up, clear as day. People were attacking people. Viciously, horrendously. To death. It was crazy. But it wasn't on Long Island yet, so he had a bit of time. Throwing on his best tennis shoes, he grabbed his backpack and packed it with some clothes and other essentials. He also grabbed his self-defense knife he got. It was stainless steel, and came with a nice carrying pouch. Zach never thought he'd have to use it, but hey, it's New York.

Other people in the dorm had already left. There were only a few left, and it looked like they were suiting up for a fight with barricades and make-shift weapons. Zach got through all of that, and got in his CR-X and sped down to Pathmark to meet up with Leah. And, needless to say, he wasn't the only one there. He grabbed one of the carts in the parking lot and ran into the mart jst as Leah yelled out for him.

"Here, Leah BoBeah!" He called, waving his arms up in the air. People were looking, but oh well. It really didn't matter right now.

[Andy Walsh]

Andy stood anxiously at the doors of the Pathmark store, swaying forwards and then backwards, deciding whether he should head inside. Of course he needed to go in, for supplies, food and the like, but due to the outbreak of these things (he knew as soon as he saw them that they were zombies, the walking dead, he never thought he'd seen the day!), would everyone already inside be friendly? Memories came rushing back from his Dead Rising video game, the man inside that store certainly wasn't friendly... But Andy was determined to stick to his plan, so with one last deep breath, Andy cautiously entered the store.

It was unusually quiet, despite the grim circumstances, his fellow shoppers and the store employees were going about their daily business despite the fact there was a freakin' zombie invasion happening a few hundred miles away! He hoped it was because they hadn't heard, not that they were just very calm about it. "Oh well" he thought "At least they're not going to try and rip my head off". He half expected one of those freaks he had seen on television to leap out at him from behind the shelves as he passed, but he knew the infection hadn't reached where he currently was..... yet.

He slowly began walking down the aisles, looking for bottled water and any non-perishable foods, basically anything packed into a can. He pulled out the basic list he had brought with him and looked at what he needed.

Right, canned stuff, canned stuff, canned stuff... he mumbled to himself as he passed all the aisles. But what if he couldn't find any cookers or microwaves to heat it up? Ugh, cold beans. Not a very appetizing thought.

Suddenly he heard a loud crash and some loud voices coming from the other end of the store. Andy headed in that general direction to check if the crash had injured anybody. He reached the area where the voices were coming from and saw that there were two people there, a man who looked like he had been hit by the second person, a woman with a shopping cart infront of her. He was about ask them if they knew about the whole zombie invasion thing, when he heard a male voice yell "Here, Leah BoBeah!" from the entrance to the store. Andy turned and saw a man waving his arms in the air towards the woman.

"Umm, h-hey guys," he called out to them nervously "dyou know about this whole infection thing? Just, because you look like you're packing for it" (he motioned towards her shopping cart) "Or that might just be what you normally buy or.... uhh something"

"Yeah, real smooth dumbass" he thought to himself.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and scuffed the floor with his foot as he waited for them to reply.


Total wordcount : 502

[Jim Doyle]

Jim was oblivious. That much was fairly obvious. While the world outside might have been in flames, Jim was going about his normal business, none-the-wiser. So naturally, the young woman's haste was lost on him. He boggled at her slightly and clumsily helped to pick up some of the items that had fallen from his basket. He didn't have any plans for the evening himself, and felt in no hurry, unlike the young woman, and so he smiled and shrugged at her slightly awkwardly as she made a passing comment on his noodle selection and moved off again, making a beeline for the door.

It seemed strange, obviously. It was a very out of place thing to see a young woman with as much as a cart could carry, bypassing the registers. It didn't happen every day, to be sure, so Jim watched after her for a moment, silently holding a commentary for himself which included his observations of her. Loon was a word that came up first, but New York was full of those, same as anywhere else. He turned back to the endcap of the aisle. Kellogg's cereal, two for five. Not bad. He tilted his head slightly and nodded to himself, eyeing the array of bright packages as he scratched his head through his beanie again in habit. Corn pops, or frosted flakes? The endless shopping conundrum.
Grab whatever you can and run. Fucking run.
"Hmm?"

He turned again and directed a baffled look at the young woman, who had returned from the doorway, frazzled and urgent in tone. Run? Why? What for? Jim was a firm believer in the philosophy that running was purely meant for running away from things, or toward things, and was not a leisurely pursuit. Besides, he had his bike outside, and more to the point, why should he be running? Fucking loon, she is. He smiled at her politely, placating, and nodded. Same thing he always did with the crazies on the subway, or in the pub. It was too late to pretend he didn't speak English. She seemed so sincere, but then, they always did, he supposed. Same the world around, was that.

Still, at least she was easily distracted. Sometimes you ran into the old men who would go on and on for hours and hours about inane conspiracies, or alien intelligence. Jim followed the young woman's line of sight up to the overhead security monitor with a faint smile of passing amusement which faded slightly once he realised what exactly she was watching. Somewhere by the sliding doors at the other end of the store, a skirmish was happening. Jim realised he could hear it over the chatter of the supermarket now that he was aware of it. And it wasn't just that simple either, it wasn't just a skirmish, a street brawl. What he saw on the monitor was brutal, made him whirl his head away from the screen, back toward the doors. A few others, he realised, had paused to see what the commotion was by this point, and a scream rose up over the Muzak playing over the speaker system and sent a faint, subtle thrill silently through the gathered crowd.

"What the fuck's going on?" He murmured to himself, glancing back up at the monitor for a better view of the action. Unwittingly, he had begun to edge backwards, away from the doors that had drawn other shopper's attentions. Having grown up in Belfast during the eighties, Jim had been witness to his fair share of brutality, but there was something about all of it that struck him wrong, some kind of cold churning in the pit of his stomach that would not lie down and be still. His back bumped a cardboard crate of seasonal items that had been arranged in the aisle in front of the registers. He jumped and turned to see what it was, and quickly forgot his basket of meagre groceries in favour of pulling one of the wooden baseball bats free of its display case. It hung loosely from his grip, dangling by his ankle as his eye drew back up to the heads of the crowd farther down the supermarket. Some had started to move, like the first motions of a flock of sheep about to bolt, and Jim didn't waste much time in giving into his instincts either. He dropped his red shopping basket and hastily backed away before turning on the balls of his feet and making a quick march toward the other doors of the supermarket. Run. She had told him to run. What did she know that he didn't?

"Hey, you!" He shouted over the steadily growing ruckus. "Wait! Wait, what's going on? Do you know what's happening? Is it terrorists?"

[Leah Evans]

Currently Leah was half pushing the cart half pressing her cell phone to her ear trying to reach Zach. Thank god she always charged it when she was out at classes, she rarely used the phone otherwise unless it was texting which she was a fiend at. But now she had three bars to use to call people and see how they were and of course, none of them would answer. Friends always keep in like company but now her own family back Upstate weren't even picking up. Damnit! If the virus hadn't hit Long Island yet there was no way it had spread five hours away right?... Right?

Pressing the red button on her phone to end the painful ringing with no response she redialed Zach. If she found her friend alive she decided then and there: she would kill him for his lack of ability to reach out and press a damn green button. Some science nerd he was, couldn't even work a dang phone. Leah was an acting major and she could figure it out? Why did Zach have to be such a twat?!

"Here, Leah BoBeah!"

Her head practically whirled around as her brown eyes fell on her best friend. At first she was speechless, a rarity for her until finally she found her words rushing the short distance over to him and giving him a quick hug amidst the commotion that was now happening as more people entered to loot the store and the other innocents started to figure out what was going on judging by the news on the monitors.

"About damn time!" She announced breathlessly, as she pulled away her right hand still rested on his shoulder as a subtle, subconcious reassurance that her friend was still there. "Grab a cart. Get what you can." She said quickly in as low of a voice as possible, still trying to catch her breath from the rush of excitement.

"We've got to get out of here now. Mike came in five minutes ago, he already got what he could from the gun store and his dad's.. He put a few in my trunk. After you get as much food as possible meet me outside and we'll go from there." Well, at least it sounded like a plan though really, by this point, Leah was just going by the seat of her pants. Poor Mike, his rich father (who owned a share of Nintendo) was on safari with his mother but this left his house open and his dad's guns for the taking. Had he been home Leah was sure he wouldn't have minded sharing and luckily, Mike shared that sentiment. Good friends were hard to come by but Leah's always stayed hard and true.

"Umm, h-hey guys, do you know about this whole infection thing? Just, because you look like you're packing for it. Or that might just be what you normally buy or.... uhh something"

Leah's head slowly turned to face the young man and her brow was raised in an almost comedic manner despite the seriousness of the situation. "You have a way with words, don't you?" Obvious sarcasm on her part, but who could blame her given all that was going on? Leah had always been sarcastic, she was a comedian afterall, the resident douchebag as her pals called her, and even now the jabs came out. Unfortunately under this stressful situation it was coming out at those who she didn't know, which she usually curbed her tongue for, so maybe they wouldn't understand that was just how she was. Oh well.

Shaking her head she felt her friend's gaze of warning on her and suddenly she felt a tad guilty and gave a tired, exasperated little sigh. "Do you really want me to waste time answering that or can we just go?" And with that she turned back to her cart. They had to get moving or the infected would catch up to them. Already, according to the news, Manhattan and Brooklyn were taken. Once Queens got it, it would be only a matter of twenty minutes and it seemed to be spreading like wild fire.

Pushing her cart toward the other side door on the opposite end of the store to avoid traffic she glanced over her shoulder. "Come on Zach!" Couldn't the kid ever follow directions? Just once in his life when it actually mattered?! They would have made it to the door with no problem too if it hadn't been for the foreign fellow who suddenly felt the need to 'wise up'.

"Hey, you! Wait! Wait, what's going on? Do you know what's happening? Is it terrorists?"

She couldn't ignore him forever, and it was for this reason she glanced over her shoulder to speak to him all the while pushing the cart right out of the store. "Yeah. Terrorists." She rolled her eyes, obviously scoffing at the very notion. Someone yelled at her to stop but she ignored them, other freeloading carts followed. This man would have his hands full unless he too felt the need to run. The world was ending, why be uptight anymore? Currency was just a memory. So was exchange. Now it was all about taking and running. Nothing more.

"Listen, I have no idea what is going on. No one does. But I do know one thing." She skidded with her cart in front of her jeep, beginning to stock the back and taking note of the guns. None of which she knew how to fire. Cringing slightly she began to move them to the front. Food in the back, guns where you needed them. That's how it worked in the movies where the people lived. "We're getting the heck out of here." Now opening the other door she began to shove food into every possible corner, moving aside a sleeping bag, her messenger bag, matches, a few changes of clothes and then whatever Zach handed her into the vehicle.

Lucky for her it was a spacious jeep all things considered though not worth thousands. It was somewhat run down, but all that Leah really cared about was the space value. "Zach, little help here." She called once more over her shoulder before looking back to Jim. "You just gonna stand there or are you gonna help?" She poised rhetorically before continuing on. "Because I may have a box of tea if you want to make a cup and SHOVE IT UP YOUR-" She felt a hand go over her mouth.. And she had a pretty good feeling of who it was.

[Zach Dorian]

Pandemonium. Pure, unadulterated pandemonium. Well, not here, but over other parts of New York. Zach barely knew what was going on, but he was assuming that Leah knew more the he did. Whatever this was, terrible rioting or something else, it wasn't anything Zach wanted to be involved with. Leah had the right idea, although he wasn't still exactly sure why they were packing up inane amounts of food. Couldn't they just get out of the city for a bit and come back after everything had been cleared up? Obviously that had to be an option, right? Oh well. Zach had never endulged in looting. And there wouldn't be a better time then now.


And with the ever-so pleasant greeting from his friend, he chuckled and shrugged, hugging his friend back. "Well, you know me. Punctual as can be." He'd never seen her speechless like that before. So, his showing up was an important occurrence to her, obviously. It made him feel like the most important person of the day. But the confidence slithered out of his body at the mention of obtaining firearms. He actually grew a little pale. "W-wait, guns? Why do we need guns? Aren't we just leaving for a bit until this rioting calms down?" But she was already off, gathering more supplies and talking to other frightened folks. So he joined up, rushing up and down the aisles grabbing both perishable and non-perishable pieces of merchandise, not really having time to pick and choose his groceries.

He was a little worried the cashiers might jump up and rock his face with a fist or two if he tried to sneak an entire cart full of stuff past, but seeing Leah just rush by made it alright. She always did seem to set the bar for situations like this. Or situations in the first place. At least that's what it seemed like to Zach. So, passing by the cashier, Zach gave a friendly two-fingered salute to him and a nice smile. Al Borlin would be proud. And as the automatic doors opened, he went to Leah's jeep and helped her cram as much junk into her car as he could, at her dominating insistence.

Oh, but there was some other guy following Leah to the car with his own cart of stuff. Zach had no clue who the guy was, but obviously Leah had some idea, speaking to him in her usual sarcastic, rhetoric self. But uh...she started to go off on the guy. And right before she said a naughty word, Zach put his hand over her mouth and wrapped his other arm around her waist, pullign her back a bit. "Leah..." Zach said softly, "didn't we have a talk about this before? No swearing at strangers. Now, lets just finish this up, 'kay?" His calm-talks usually worked on her if she ever got stressed out or angry or upset. This was a special situation, but still. Being angry wouldn't get the hell outta Dodge any quicker.

[Jim Doyle]

Whatever was going on, Jim didn't like it. In fact, he didn't like it any more than he had ever liked that sort of thing. Carnage and chaos had been his lot in life, growing up in Belfast, and he'd never had a taste for it, not after seeing it first hand. Too many fathers, brothers and sons had been lost over the years, and too many sisters and wives and mothers too. No, he didn't like it at all, much as he found he suddenly didn't much like the young woman berating him for standing by, flabbergasted. he was supposed to help? Why? She hadn't asked for help, and he didn't feel much like giving it suddenly. And tea? Why did people always hear his accent and think of tea? That was the English. Guinness would have been better.

Jim shrugged at the young woman and her seemingly more sensible friend, and simply veered off, toward the bicycle stands where his motorcycle was parked. The few groceries he'd attained in the chaos fit easily into the saddle bag at the back, where he often crammed deliveries, and soon enough, they were dumped in and zipped up, and the engine sputtered to life, his legs thrown astride of the vehicle in practised ease. He backed the thing out of its space and came to idle not far from the jeep, glancing at the far doors of the supermarket, where chaos continued, and had begun to spread from there. People were panicking. It could be terrorists. After all, what else would it be? American sports fans were nothing like the football hooligans of the UK, so it mustn't be a football riot.

Frankly, he had no idea what -was- going on, but for a brief moment, he thought he'd spied soemthing that made the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. A grizzly sight. A bloodied face, frenzied eyes. Unnatural. Wrong. He frowned in the direction of the chaos, stared, not sure what he had seen, then turned to the two young friends by the trunk of the jeep.
"Have a good one." He murmured quietly before tucking his legs as he eased the motorcycle out and all but disappeared into the parking lot and beyond. If soemthing big was really going down, he was getting the hell outta dodge. Maybe the young friends would be too. Whatever the case, it was every man for himself, same as always, same the world around. It was sad, but maybe it was the way of things, the way of the human race, and maybe, somewhere along the line, they'd run into one another again.

Jim only knew that he wanted to get home and to find out what exactly was going on, so he sped through the gnarled traffic of the city with his typical UK approach, weaving in and out of stopped cars, jumping lights when no-one was paying attention. He had to call his Ma', turn the television on, or the radio. Had to let his family know he was alright, had to find out what was happening, and maybe, had to get the hell out of the city for a while.

[Andy Walsh]

It was pure pandemonium in the store, and probably all across the city by now. People were screaming, some where getting or attacked, and most were attacking each other... Andy quickly abandoned his shopping and instead quickly slipped out a small switchblade knife from the back pocket from his jeans, it wasn't much of a weapon but it was better than facing those monsters with his bare hands! The group of people he had spoke with quickly grabbed their items and rushed out of the store.

"Hey aren't you going to pay?" he called after them. After a few seconds he mentally slapped himself, why the hell would they pay if their cashier was a freaking zombie? He shook his head and began to follow them, they obviously seemed to know what they were doing and it looked like they had supplies that they would be willing to share, and those two men looked like capable fighters to him. Food and protection, how could he say no?

He followed them out into the car park where they were standing at the side of a rather spacious looking jeep, beginning to pack supplies into the trunk. One of the men had a short conversation with the other two and the headed over to wards the bike racks. He climbed aboard a motorcycle and slowly eased out of the car park, and away into the chaos ridden city.

"Guys! Hey guys!" he called out to the other two. "Can I umm can I c-come with you guys? It's just I live quite far away and I don't think I'd last very long on foot and I have no weapons or food or-" he managed to stop himself rambling on and looked at the two people, his eyes darting between the two. He hoped, prayed, that they would agree. He didn't have any backup plan if they didn't...


(OoC : Sorry for the short post, my mind went blank D:)

[Leah Evans]

The hand over her mouth stiffled her no doubt offensive sarcasm brought on by stress. Stubbornly with a bit of a glare at being held into place by Zach's wary arm, she bit down on her bottom lip rather hard. Figures. The world was ending and Zach was still worried about hurting people's feelings. That's why whenever he joked about auditioning for one of her improv troupes she always skated around the subject. Zach was too worried about everyone else and while that was fine, it just didn't work for comedy. Also Leah was fairly certain that Zach, once onstage, would have wet himself.

"Yeah. Like it even matters." She scoffed with a slight roll of her eyes as she managed to wiggle right out of his grasp, shrugging his arm off from around her before tending to the things in jer jeep. She could have been a boyscout with how prepared she was. And to think if a day earlier she had spoken about her plan no one would have taken her seriously. This would show them, the bunch of Judas', all of them. Of course she wasn't keen on the loss of life that would occur but at least she was right and outside of comedy that was so rarely the case. No one ever took her seriously because she was 'the comedian'. She wasn't allowed to have feelings. Maybe that would all change though right now she didn't exactly have the time to wallow and blubber.

And so she continued to pack things into her vehicle, now shifting them about when she realized people would actually have to sit in it. Especially when the new guy (Andy spoke up). "What?" She glanced up for a moment, caught off guard before shaking her head and returning to her packing. "Yeah sure. Just help me move this stuff around so we can get out of here." Just what she needed: To babysit. Ah well, she couldn't very well leave the people there. She did have a heart though it was hidden by her sarcastic, quipping exterior.

In fact she was so distracted by everything that was going on she almost didn't notice Jim sneaking off. What was he thinking? Instinctively her brown eyes widened slightly and she parted from the jeep momentarily, hands on her hips. "Where do you think you're going?!" She called after him, actually a bit nervous for the foreign fellow. He was already on his mopeg, or motorcycle or whatever... Leah wasn't sure, she didn't know bikes all that well. "You're going the wrong way!" She called out after him. Didn't he realize he was heading back toward where it all started? Leah wanted to help him but she couldn't very well drive into the infected area and end up killing herself and everyone along with the ride.

Shaking her head with another curse she moved back to the car to tend to who remained. "Get in." They had fit all that they could into the vehicle, now they just had to go. Moving to the driver's seat she opened the door and hurried inside, slamming the door shut as hopefully the guys did the same. In the distance she heard a high pitched shriek followed by a scream. Her heart began to race as her hands drummed nervously on the top of the steering wheel. It was here. "C'mon. C'mon. C'mon." She said to no one in particular in a subconcious way to maybe hurry things along.

Her shakey right hand reached for the key and turned it. Luckily there were no complications and the engine started. Her foot moved to the gas pedal as they pulled out. The roads were surprisingly empty, especially for Long Island but parked cars littered the streets. It looked as though many decided to lock themselves in their basement given the time crunch. Stupid. Leah figured if they didn't have supplies and lived in such a packed community with house after house like the area was, no one would be safe. The island would be swarmed with the infected people. To distract herself from the thought she reached to the mirror slinking her hand around the back of it to her CD collection. Picking one she hurriedly, with still shakey hands, inserted the random CD into the player.

Bob Dylan's 'The Times They Are A Changin' started to play over the jeep's speaker and Leah noticably cringed, rolling her eyes slightly at the irony. "Great choice there Leah." She murmured under her breath and suddenly cursed herself for not ever taking the time to label her burned CDs which apparently her own friends didn't do because the CD had been a gift from one of her best improv buddies in the world: Edward. He was surfing near the sound right about now, she hoped that he was okay, now more than ever.