( Welcome to Runner Five. As I have been playing the fitness app Zombies, Run!, I've felt the desperate need to write about it. My story is very loosely based on the game, however, so you do not need to have played it at all to understand what is going on or to enjoy it! On the other hand, fellow Runner Fives, I do include spoilers if you play. Otherwise, this will be a short, easy read, with small chapters and sporadic updates. I hope you enjoy!

-Stella )

Scrambling desperately away from the pile of twisted metal and spewing gas, the runner put as much distance as she could between herself and the crashed helicopter. Only moments before, the aircraft had been high in the sky, successfully steering toward Mullins Township with an abundance of medical kits. Now, the helicopter was nothing more than a gruesome, fallen bird, bits of metal shards strewn everywhere.

The runner's radio crackled to life. "Jolly Alpha Five Niner, Jolly Alpha Five Niner! This is Abel Township, do you come in?" A nervous, male voice.

"Roger that, I hear you," the runner croaked, the smoke from the helicopter filling her lungs, her heart racing. "The helicopter crashed! We—we were hit by some sort of rocket launcher!"

"A rocket launcher? Who still has rocket launchers around here?" the man over the radio yelped. "And—and you're alive! I can't believe it. Are you all right?"

"I—I'm not the pilot," she replied nervously, peering with trepidation into the cockpit and forcing down vomit. "She's dead."

"Good God," the man breathed. "Then—then who are you?"

"I'm a runner from Mullins," she replied. "I was helping to transport the medical supplies, but—but now…"

The runner's voice trailed off. She wouldn't survive through the day. Far from Mullins Township and hopelessly lost, she had no chance of making it back to home base, even if she refused to weigh herself down with medical supplies. Somehow, she suspected that Mullins wouldn't be too upset to be rid of her. She would be one less mouth to feed, and they had plenty of runners far more skilled and experienced than she was.

She had to find a place to hide soon, or she knew she would join the undead come nightfall.

"I won't make it back," she murmured in horror. "I'm too far."

"Listen, runner," the man on the line said. "I'm the Communications Operator here at Abel. You might not be able to make it back to Mullins, but you're not far from us. We're dead low on supplies over here, and if you can get some of those med kits to us, I'm sure we can let you stay for the night."

The runner jumped on the opportunity gladly. "Yes. yes, okay. I'll do it. There's no way in hell I want to be out here during nightfall."

"Then get to us ASAP," he replied seriously. "We have wounded here and need as many med kits as possible."

"Roger that," the runner replied, turning away from the helicopter. She tested her limbs, and, thankfully, nothing seemed to be broken. "Keep track of my position. I'll collect these and head toward your township if you can give me your coordinates."

The radio controller transmitted the location as the runner collected supplies and calculated how far away she was. She'd be able to make it by sundown… if she ran fast enough.

"What can I call you?" she asked, stuffing the medical kits into her utility belt. "'Communications Operator' is going to be a little hard to choke out if I'm getting attacked by the undead."

The radio controller chuckled. "Call me Sam."

"Copy that, Sam. I've collected all the medical kits I can for now and am heading toward Abel Township."

"Great. I'll track your position and make sure the zombies don't sneak up on you. Are you ready to head out?"

The runner looked closely through the trees and listened hard. She could hear no groans or dragging limbs.

"As ready as I can be."

"Copy that, runner. I have your location. Move out."