They stepped off of the boat and looked forward, one goal in each of their minds. Get the gas, come back in one piece.

"So, we need to get to the gas station, and bring some gas back to the boat..." the only woman of their survival group stated simply.

"Want to hear a prediction?" came a sarcastic voice from the man in the white suit.

"NO!" the other two shouted.

A roll of the eyes later, the four of them glanced at one another before each nodding a silent OK. Rushing over the broken paneling laid a little ways to the right of the dock, they made their way into the Burger Tank restaurant. Each started gathering supplies that were around from the previous group that had lingered there.

"Leave some here, so we have at least something to rely on when we make our way back. As a just in case thing, you know?" the reporter voiced as she put a bottle of pills into her pants pocket. Might need these later.

The rest of the group nodded and loaded some ammunition into their weapons then carried off into the street, killing a few infected as they made their way towards the sugar mill. The loud sound of hurried steps and labored breathing surrounded the group of survivors as they hurried through the destroyed neighborhood. Every so often there was an unwanted visitor but they took turns eliminating any problem they'd come across.

"Why the hell would anyone take gas further inland? At a time like this? The docks would've been just as fine for keeping the damn stuff as any other place, just more convenient," an older, African-American man harshly whispered his complaint.

"At least it's not up thirty flights of stairs, Coach." The statement was riddled with a stale sense of humor, but got a few quiet chuckles from the other survivors. Their small group consisted of Coach, an older man who was on the larger side but still in pretty good shape, Rochelle, a woman from Cleveland with the aspiration of becoming a reporter, Ellis, the youngest with a Southern accent and a vast amount of stories, and finally Nick, the conman with some trust issues and a quick wit. At first it wasn't the most favorable of groups, but they learned quickly to deal with it.

With a glare sent his way from Coach, Nick continued his way forward, his electric guitar gripped in both hands, and a few strings hanging off the top from some of the extracurricular activities that it had been going through.

They made their way through several broken houses, picking up stray pipe bombs or Molotovs on the way. It was kind of sad; the portraits on the walls seemed so lively when everything around them was so depressing. After looking through the neighboring houses for other goods they were finally prepared to start following the glowing traffic sign that read "Gas This Way" with an arrow pointing to the right. Carefully maneuvering around the car filled road, a voice spoke among them.

"Hey guys! That house is on stilts!" Ellis' smile widened as he saw the spray painted symbol for safe houses along a passing house. "What luck! We didn't even run into a horde or nothin'!" Man, he couldn't wait to tell Keith about all of his adventures with his new friends!

"Don't get your hopes up, Overalls. We've still got about another two hundred feet to go." Nick gave a slight pat to Ellis' shoulder. A scrunch of the nose and a showing of the tongue was the response he'd received from the mechanic. He rolled his eyes and smirked back.

"The sky is getting kind of cloudy, I hope it doesn't rain," Rochelle tilted her head up to look at the light gray clouds that were forming overhead.

"Well, weren't you training to become a weather person?" Ellis gave a glance over to his left where the woman happened to be. This road seemed to last forever, why not get to know each other better, right?

"No, I am trying to become a reporter, Ellis. Not the weather girl." She was a bit angry that he got it wrong, but what the hell, he'd only known her for about a week and a half. "It's all go-"

Her words were choked as she felt herself being dragged towards a flashing red car, "Oh shit! Get it off! Get it off!"

The jockey whinnied and slobbered in her hair as it continued to dig its claws deep into her shoulders. As they got closer to a near by blinking car her eyes widened with disbelief, "Oh God!" she grimaced as it continued to whinny and drag her around as if she were being reeled in.

"Dammit!" Coach took aim with his silenced machine gun, "I can't get a clear shot!"

"Jesus, somebody help!" Rochelle tried her hardest to slap the jockey off her back while trying to defy its gravitation towards the car, which was getting closer and closer.

"I gotcha!" A quick butt with the end of his machete to the jockey's face stunned the special infected so it fell to the ground. It paused, then suddenly whinnied and started to run around, leaping to make an escape.

"C'mon, Ro! Get up! We've got about fifty feet to go!" Helping her to her feet, Nick and Coach stayed focused as they started assisting Rochelle to help her walk forwards towards the safe house. She wouldn't go down so easily, but was still a little stunned from being jumped on. The saliva in her hair trickled down the back of her neck as she grimaced.

"Stupid evolving infected! I'll kill every one of those bastards I see from now on, I swear it!" Rochelle popped a pill in her mouth and nodded thanks to Coach and Nick for helping her up and about.

A little behind them, Ellis grinned as he cornered the jockey by the front tire of the car.

"I've got you now, you sonovabitch." He swung his stained machete, lopping the head off of the jockey, but in the process scraping the side of the car as well. A piercing alarm sounded as the car lights flashed -- intruder! That jockey must be mocking him by now. Ellis swore under his breath as the street started to fill with the stench of the undead and the cries of hungry infected. They all came dashing from every direction, navigating themselves towards the distressed vehicle, their lanky bodies battered and beaten. He braced himself and got into a battle stance.

"Oh goddammit, Ellis!" Nick swore as he smashed a ghostly face in with his guitar, "Coach! Take Ro to the safe house! We'll be there soon." The older man gave a nod as Rochelle shot her pistol into the cranium of a drooling ghoul, its lifeless body falling before her. She gave a soft grin wishing Nick good luck before turning to fight her own battle.

Swinging right and left, Nick dashed into the mob of infected fighting his way towards the youngest of their group. His face was splattered with blood, and the chips in his guitar continued to grow in size. The sickening sound of skulls no longer affected him as he finally reached Ellis' back. Fighting off a few infected that were beating on the Southern mechanic's back, after it was clear he lined himself up with Ellis, back-to-back. He fought to keep the infected away as the younger man continued to guard his front, slicing his way through the onslaught of zombies.

There was no more pounding on Ellis' back, nothing but the warmth of somebody else behind him. He gave a quick glance over his shoulder, and instantly his face flooded with relief as he saw the expensive white suit facing the other direction, defending him with a blood soaked guitar. He turned back to the front and fought the lessening horde; damn he was gonna have some mighty bruises later.

With the alarm finally stopped, the infected gradually stopped coming and only a large pile of the dead seemed to remain. Finishing the last of the lined up infected, Nick turned to Ellis and have him a soft knock to the back of his head with his fist, before stepping over a few dead bodies.

"Idiot. We've got to stick together if we want to live." He watched as Ellis swiped the head off of the last infected from his end. With that boyish grin of his Ellis turned around, his face littered with scratches.

"I know. Sorry 'bout that, but it sure is fun as hell beatin' those fuckers up, ya know?" He continued to smile as they walked slowly to the safe house, dripping weapons and all. Slightly limping up the stairs, Ellis peeked through the barred door and gave a small wave when Coach looked over. Nick looked over his own shoulder to keep a lookout for any stragglers that might have tried to come up.

"Hey Coach! Wanna help us fellows out?" His young stubbled face pressed against the bars; he didn't even notice the sting from his wounds. "We can't get in unless you let us in." The larger man rolled his eyes and walked over to the door and pried it open.

"Boy, you need to watch where you swing that shit! You were alone and after that shit I'm not sure I wanna be in that radius with you swingin' that knife like that! You coulda been left behind." Strolling through the door, Ellis placed his hands behind his head and stretched, revealing his tanned back to Nick as he followed Ellis into the safe room. Nick was sure to lock and bar the door behind himself.

"Aw shucks Coach! It's alright! Good ol' Nick came for my ass. I'll watch it next time, okay? How're those wounds there, Ro?" He hoisted himself onto the table that contained ammo and looked down to Rochelle who was rubbing an antibiotic on her shoulder wound.

"Oh, I'm just fine. Stupid ass jockey won't get me next time, that's for sure. " She flinched as she pulled her hand away from her shoulder, "Fucking stings."

Coach walked over and gave her some water and placed some gauze on her wound before pulling the sleeve back up to her revealed shoulder.

"Well, I say we rest a good fifteen minutes, then head on," Nick glanced at his teammates. Funny, he'd never really thought of that word before now, but that's what they were. Teammates. "We need to get that gas before nightfall, or at least have it by nightfall and be on our way back." Hands in his pockets he leaned against the wall for a second, before taking another thought and sliding down to sit on the floor. Killing zombies cramped his muscles, what a drag.

"I reckon he's right, what do ya'll think?" Ellis watched as Nick rolled his shoulders and then quickly turned away to look at Rochelle and Coach, "You think you'll be okay to travel some more?" She gave a nod before eating some of a candy bar she'd stashed away, before looking to Coach and giving the larger man the rest. He looked like he needed a pick-me-up.

The rest of their time was spent in silence, besides a few passing groans. Nobody knew what to say, but that was okay to them. They needed to savor the peaceful moments while they could, because before they knew it they would be out in the chaos that was the infection and they would no longer be able to hear the breathing of their partners, nor feel the ease of resting without some kind of worry.

Ellis looked down to where Nick sat before hopping down.

"You ready to do this?" He grinned and extended a hand to the man in the tattered suit. Nick studied the bright man's calloused hand, debating whether it was safe or not, before gripping the hand with his own and allowing himself to be pulled up. After a prolonged touch, he let go and nodded to Ellis before glancing at the back door.

With his skin still warm from contact, and a good team behind him, he felt like he could take on just about anything, but he wouldn't relay that to the group of three who gathered behind him.

"Ready as I'll ever be."