Disclaimer: NOZ.

Luna: Thanks for the support! I Love mah FANS. I finally beat it, and got the crappiest ending, ever. The one when everyone dies. Uh huh…Well, for this story, I'm gonna use Overtime mode's ending, thanks to Matt who doesn't fail at the game…(shifty eyes) and cause it's the perfect ending! (grins) Here it comes…

Chapter 3: Frank's covered wars, so that must mean he can use a gun!

" AHHH!" screamed Jessie, as she went down like a pile of bricks.

" Oh! Oh God!" cried Frank, wide-eyed, who would've apologized if he didn't have that nasty habit of trying to be right all the time, " Look, don't sneak up on me!"
Jessie tries to get up and snaps, " Brad was attacked…and who the hell has monologues with themselves out loud and swings around fire extinguishers, anyway?! Oh!"
She falls down, again, thanks to her ankle. Which is funny, I didn't see her land on her ankle…

" Its probably just a sprain," said Frank, quite the concerned gentlemen, and by 'concerned' I mean apathetic.

" I've got to help Brad…" she said, sighing, " Or he's done for."
Frank thought for a moment, and then said, " Alright, fine. Give me your gun. Come on, I got you into this mess. Let me help."
Yes, by taking the injured girl's long ranged weapon, and only weapon at that; you are definitely helping her. Your not leaving her for dead, no…

" No!" she cried, " I can't let a civilian do that! Its against regulations!"
" Yeah, well, I don't think they had zombie-infested malls in mind when they wrote those regulations kid." Frank said, matter-of-factly.

She stopped for a second, and the asked, " Do you know how to use one of these things?"
" Kinda. I've covered wars, you know?" he said, taking it from her.

She stared at him.

" Covering wars and holding and firing a gun are 2 different things, Frank."

He glared.

" Yeah, well, I'm a hella shot at paint ball." he said, annoyed, " And when I come back, we're gonna have a nice, little, chat."
And just as he left her in the dust, Otis calls. Frank picks up, to hear him yammer that some dude was running around with a camera, too. As if that would interest him more than Brad probably getting caps busted in him as Otis shot the breeze.

And apparently, it did. Just as Frank was exploring the mall and shoving potted plants, Cds, and benches into many a decaying zombie face; Frank went up the stairs to a place known as 'Columbian Roast Masters.' So distracted was he by the food and the thought of food, he didn't notice the zombie that came to take a chunk out of his neck.

Cursing the zombie's momma, Frank pushed him off. Then smacked him with a handy, dandy, chair. Luckily for Frank, with his bloody neck and possibly bleeding jugular; there was orange juice nearby.

It was not only an important source of vitamin C and a complete breakfast; it also stopped bleeding and mortal wounds. Deciding not to question the power and awesomeness of the drinks in the Willamette, Frank shrugged it off. He could do a cover story on magical, heal-all orange juice later. All he needed now was some nice pictures of nice brutality.

Before Frank could get any decent shots of him dealing death to the living dead, Kent showed up.

Here Frank was, minding his own business, and Kent just started randomly talking. I think he liked to hear himself talk. Like Otis.

" I'm gonna show you how to use that camera," said Kent, suddenly, " Whenever you see those PP hovering over someone's head, that's a great time to-"
" Holy shit!" cried Frank, suddenly, " What the hell! There's 2 floating, P's over your head! What THE HELL!"

" - Any great photographer knows that-" he continued, ignoring him.

" My God…zombies, I can take. But random, floating letters…that's just crazy! Are you sure you see that, too?" asked Frank, still in shock.

"-Now take some pictures of me to get your level up-"

"-What's a level-"
"-ANY good photojournalist knows what a level is!"
Frank glared.

" Fine, I accept your challenge, even though Brad is probably getting copper coated candies as dessert as we speak." he said, mind set.

So Frank stalked Kent, taking pictures of him and his 'crouching tiger hidden dragon' moves that he sometimes flipped out when threatened by zombies. Oh, sexy.

" Frank has leveled up!" came Mr. Moviefone's voice from the megaphone.

Frank stared. He decided not to question it, and later perhaps do a coverage on schizophrenia.

" Come on man, take a picture! Don't you know how?" asked Kent, when Frank got bored and stopped.

" Yeah, but I'm not going to waste all my battery power on you. I have to waste it on pictures of humanity's decline…and gory…and sexy ladies." he decided, and left him there.

" Wait! Don't leave me by my lonesome! I R LONELYYY!" screamed Kent, as Frank went off to find Brad.

As Frank mowed through some zombies in the park area, Otis called.

" You're in the park." He said.

" Really, Sherlock?" asked Frank, already starting to feel something a lot like hate bubbling up in him.

" Yeah and-"

He hung up. Because, apparently, since Frank always has to have one hand on his camera and the other on his weapon which now had the phone in it; he couldn't attack anything. Putting the camera around his neck made too much sense.

Frank walks into the food court, where he's nearly gunned down like a dog. Otis decides to call him back just then.

" Otis! I'm being shot at!" he yelled into the phone, as he took cover.

" Don't cut me off like that! Its rude! Anyway-"

Frank hung up. Jesus H Christ.

He spots Brad taking cover not too far away and runs to him.

" Your…uh…girlfriend called me." said Frank.

" Jessie was a booty call, dammnit! Okay, we'll talk later. You know how to use a gun?" asked Brad, frantic.

" I've never fired at a person!" Frank exclaimed, because zombies didn't count as people. I guess.

" Alright, I'll cover you from here. You need to stick to the shadows. Try to get close to the target ok?" asked Brad, returning fire to Carlito.

" Hey, its that crazy Spanish guy I met before!" Frank said, oh wow, he remembered, " And what am I supposed to do when I get to him, exactly?"

" Blow his brains out, idiot." Brad said, appalled by his stupidity.

"…I'm a lot better with a camera, but okay. I'll give it a shot!" decided Frank, because he was so awesome at paintball and that's exactly the same as shooting a gun.

"Alright... Next time he reloads. I'll lay down a suppressing fire. I'm counting on you. Make your way over there. 1...2...3!" cried Brad, and by 'making your way over there' he meant that Frank was gonna do all the legwork.

Yay.

Anyway, Carlito had a silly way of shooting Frank the second he tried to get a lock on him. And by 'suppressing fire' Brad meant that he'll be totally useless and distract Carlito for a fraction of a second. Finally, Frank got close enough to shoot at him as he jumped the gap between some restaurant roof to another.

Carlito, who was either retarded or had a glitch, just kept going back and forth. And Frank just kept shooting. And despite the multiple bullet wounds and all the bleeding and blood all over Carlito; he survives. And somehow has enough strength to grab a rope and swing away, like Tarzen on a jungle vine.

Frank, who was panting like crazy even though he seems pretty ripped and muscular, manages to catch his breath.

" He got away. Who was he, again?" asked Frank.

" I don't know," said Brad.

" Wait, so he just randomly started shooting at you?"
" Yeah…"
" Okay then…"
" Thanks, anyway. The name's Brad."
Brad extended his hand, and Frank scoffed at that.

" I'd rather have an explanation than a hand shake. The name's West. Frank West. Photojournalist by day, and zombie killer by night."
"Sorry, I've got nothing to tell you. Look. I don't know what Jessie told you but as far as I'm concerned we're through working together. So, you cover your zombie story and leave the rest to us."

Frank fiddled with his camera. It was time for the old man shot.

"You uh...You guys are lookin' for someone here, aren't ya?"

Brad's jaw dropped.

" Who is that! Where did you take it?" he asked.

Frank took it away, grinning.

" Well…You help me, I help you."

" Damn!"
Frank clutches the camera like it was his baby until Brad decides to spill his guts.

Luna: End here! Thanks again, guys! Reviews for meeee?