"Rebuild": A Zombie Survival RP

"Rebuild"

A Zombie Survival RP

For information about joining,
see the note at the bottom of this post.​

9 September 2017
(Note for readers: This date was changed from 2013 to 2017)

Max Taylor couldn't typically be found on Campus on a Saturday. He spent enough time here during the week as it was, cleaning the Knight Library during the evenings and hitting the books for his Environmental Studies classes in the hours before that.

But Terry, the weekend janitor, had landed a pair of 50 yard line tickets for Oregon's game against his own Alma Mater, the University of Virginia, and he was desperate to take his 8 year old son to the game. While he himself had no use for the sport that seemed to dominate all activity in the Emerald City these past years, Max wasn't above assisting a die hard football fan in going to see such an important game.

Now, of course, Max was sorry he'd done the man the favor. Terry and his little boy were out there, in the mayhem. Lord knew whether or not they'd been swept up in the madness, or whether they were even still alive at this point.

Here in the basement of the Knight, Max watched the live pictures of the riot taking place in and around Autzen Stadium. ESPN had brought in the Fuji blimp for the game between the #1 Ducks and the #11 Huskeys; all three local broadcast news stations had helicopters in the air; and -- now, an hour after it all had begun -- the Lane County Sheriff's Department, State of Oregon Police, and even the Oregon National Guard had helicopters buzzing the area between and around Leo Harris Parkway and Martin Luther King Jr Blvd.

Max had found the live footage -- from the air and the ground both -- on at least 12 different stations, and regardless of which one you watched, you saw the same thing: people were eating people!

It was simply unbelievable.

Max didn't see how it all began: he had had no interest in watching the game and only turned on the television after students in the library became very animated about what they were hearing and seeing in Tweets, emails, texts, and voice calls. Just a few minutes earlier, Security ordered everyone out, telling them to go straight home and avoid the riot.

Max went downstairs, turning on the little television in his basement "office" -- a utility closet, actually -- and he'd been here ever since, amazed and appalled by what he was seeing.

The rioting was spreading rapidly. Autzen stadium sat on the opposite side of the Willamette River from the main campus, but crowds of fleeing fans were crossing the foot and bike bridges that connected the sports center to the rest of the University.

The mayhem was coming this way!

A loud bang caught Max's attention. He clicked off the sound and listened, hearing it again. It was the library's front door slamming violently shut. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on two floors above him, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know. But the images of the people coming his way -- and the images of madmen attacking those people -- scared him into needing to know.

He ascended the stairs and emerged from behind a "Staff Only" door just in time to see a man and woman trying desperately to close the heavy, tall doors against the pressure being born by a woman just outside.

"Let her in!" Max hollered, making his way quickly toward the door. "Let her in! It's safe here!"

But just as he reached the door, ready to help force it open, the woman in the opening slashed a hand out at him and snarled with bared teeth like a rabid dog. As Max backed away quickly, his heart in his throat, the woman clawed at the pair holding the door closed, digging her nails through the arms of both of them, eliciting screams of pain.

They can't hold her! a voice hollered inside his brain. Stop her!

He turned away, instinctively looking for a weapon. He found the velvet ropes and brass poles that created lines to the check out desks. Quickly, he unhooked the ropes, jerked the pole out of its base, and headed for the opening in the door. With as mighty a chop as the 62 year old could muster, he brought the steel tube down upon the woman's skull. It cracked open eerily, splashing blood all over Max and the others, as well as upon the crazies who were just reaching the door behind the now silent woman.

As the now dead lunatic dropped to the concrete, the people at the door slammed it shut, locking it. Someone hollered, "We need to block it!"

"There!" Max said, pointing to the walls. "Fire doors! Just slide them in place."

He backed up, dropping into the nearest chair, his heart pounding with fright at what he'd seen and shock at what he'd done. Max had killed her, surely. He hadn't killed anyone in over 40 years, not since Cambodia and Laos in the 1970s.

No, no ... that isn't true, his brain reminded him. He'd spent seven years in prison for manslaughter, back in the 80s and 90s. But, blinding by alcohol, he'd never remember that bar fight, so Viet Nam was the last time he remembered performing an act of violence against another person that was so ... permanent.

"Max!"

The old janitor looked up into the face of the stranger hovering before him. How does he know my name? I don't recognize... Max glanced down at his uniform -- at his name tag -- then back up, asking, "What?"

"Are there other ways that they can get inside? Are there other doors that are unlocked?"

Max's mind was racing, his eyes and ears still full of the sight and sound of the metal tube coming down upon that woman's skull, splitting it open. He looked to his uniform again, this time seeing the blood that was splattered across him.

"Max!"

"No," he muttered. He thought about it for a moment, questioning himself, then clarified, "No. Saturday. Only the main entrance is open this time of the day on Saturday. Emergency exits ... open from inside. The rest are alarmed ... no alarms ... they're closed--"

A man hurried up, saying, "We need to check the whole building and make sure none of those ... those crazy people are in here."

After a moment, Max looked up from his bloodied hands and realized he was all alone. He could here heavy, fast moving footfalls coming from every direction as the normal people performed their search of the building. He flinched as a body slammed against the Library's outside door. The inner fire doors didn't even budge, as they were intended.

A pair of women hurrying by Max slowed, asking him if he was okay.

He nodded, ignoring their concern as he said, "Every door in the building has an inner fire door. They need to be closed."

The women asked him about his condition again, but Max stressed the need to check the doors. They told him they'd check on it and, splitting up, heading off in opposite directions.

Another man hurried by, slowing as Max called, "How many are here? How many people made it inside?"

"I don't know," the man said, walking away backwards as he finished, "A couple of dozen, I think. Others might be hiding."

After a couple of minutes of being alone yet again, Max stood slowly, stuck his key into the lock of the "Staff Only" door, descended the two flights of stairs, stripped, and showered in the Employee bathroom. He emerged, changed into a fresh pair of coveralls and one of the many pair of Size 10 shoes he'd taken from lost and found over the years, then sat at his desk...

...and wept.



If you are interested in joining this role play, turn-by-turn game, first check out the "Seeking" post, then PM the Host with either a very basic character idea or a full Profile Sheet.

Do not post here until your Character is approved and you have a full understanding of what this role play is about. This is not your regular RP: you need to know into exactly what you're getting yourself.

(OOC the links above are obsolete, check the New OOC instead. http://forum.literotica.com/showthread.php?t=940489 )

Ria

I tried to catch my breath, and decide which way to go now. I was inside. The heavy doors had closed behind me. I wasn’t sure I was safe though. Actually I was quite sure I wasn’t safe. Those doors had opened for me, as soon as I had reached them, after crossing the grass. They would open for others. For the eaters too.

Sitting in a nice coffee-shop and studying my map of Eugene, I was occupied with making my plans for the next few days, as the TV caught my attention. A riot in a football station. I had shrugged my shoulders, I certainly wouldn’t go that way. My B&B was in an other direction. My suitcase was already there, only my rucksack was standing beside me. Not too big, but big enough for one set of clothes in case I lost my suitcase, my rain coat (I am Dutch after all, wouldn’t travel without one), a book and some necessaries like a small box with band-aids and stuff, some hidden money, some packets with crackers, a bottle of water and some sweets.

I had finished my tea, bought some pastry they had on display, and started my first walk through the city. People were hurrying around while I was taking in the sights. It hadn’t bothered me, I was a tourist, they probably had chores to do on a Saturday.

Passing a shop with TV’s and stuff I wondered about some people standing in front of the window, checking their phones and the TV’s on display.

“Eating murre murre murre, the people, murre murre. Attacking to gnaw at them!” I heard a woman whisper in her phone. “Stay at home, murre murre, close the doors and murre murre …”

“Zombies!” A man said agitated.

Frightened by this I watched the TV screens for a while. It seemed to me as if they were still talking about the riot in the football station, saying people had been seen gnawing on other people … Briefly I thought this surely must be a remake of “War of the Worlds”, and as I said so to an older man standing beside me, he shook his head.

“I don’t believe that. Nobody would be so stupid as to start that panic my mother told me about, again. I am afraid …” He stopped in midsentence, looking around anxiously. I did the same. Police cars were passing with their horns blowing, and some olive green trucks were passing too.

“I am going home!” The old man said. “You do the same young lady! No time to be on the streets!” I smiled. It had been a long time since someone had called me a young lady, only old people did so once in while now. He caught my smile, and looked inquiringly at me.

“Thank you very much.” I said. “I will go to my B&B now. It really doesn’t seem to be the right time to explore this lovely city just now.” He nodded his agreement, asked me where my B&B was, showed me the shortest way on my map, and he took his leave after wishing me well.

I started, walking briskly. I kept my map in my hand, checking once in while, looking around me most of the time. Not very much people around anymore. Only some running this way or that way. And police, and military. They were not running, they were searching. Twice one called me, told me to go home. Each time I said I was doing so.

Suddenly my stomach revolted as I had rounded a corner; in front of me a woman was gnawing at the face of a man lying before her. I caught a glimpse of a dangling eye before she closed her mouth around it and with my hand pressed on my mouth I hurried back. Gagging I saw a policeman and waved at him, pointed behind me as he caught my eye. He came towards me, and I waited for him to reach me, when I realized he was walking in a strange manner. He wasn’t carrying a gun like all the others I had seen before. His hands were kind of waving through they air.

I gulped a scream down and started to run. Away, I just wanted to be elsewhere. I interchanged running with walking, changed direction each time I saw a human being and soon I had no idea where I was. The map still clutched in my hand, I paused a moment to stuff it into my rucksack. I gulped down some water and started to run again. I was panicking.

Suddenly I had seen this big, massive looking building and I had run to it.

Put something in front of these doors (how many more were there?) or look around for a small room with only one door I could easily barricade with some furniture? Seeing a staircase I instinctively climb it, wander around and find I was trapped. It was some exposition, and toilets, a few rooms and no other connection with the rest of the building as the stairs I had came up. That was not what I wanted. Carefully I climb down again.

For the first time since I was in here, I hear voices. Screaming! I can’t make out the words in between the shrieks and wait to see what will happen, ready to run upstairs again and hide in some room. Suddenly things quiet down and I hear people talking about fire doors. They close them, taking a deep breath I sit down on the stairs to listen what else they talk about. It really seems we (I am so happy I am not alone!) are safe!

(OOC: This long post is not typical for me, fyi.)


Afternoon:

Peter Lee rolled off the woman below him, gasping for air as the euphoria rampaged through his body. After a moment, he felt his lover roll to him, laying atop him. He pushed her gently away, murmuring, "Too hot, baby. Gimme a moment, okay?"

She donned a dejected expression as she scooted away. "Sorry, lover. I'll turn up the A/C."

She hopped out of the bed and crossed the room to the control on the wall. She took her time and moved her body in a way to gain his attention.

On the bed, feeling his heart pounding in his chest, Peter shook his head slightly. This most recent lover of his was a nice looking woman, but she certainly wasn't the most beautiful or aesthetically pleasing woman he'd fucked in recent weeks.

Her little ass wiggle and hip sway -- as she pretended to fiddle with the A/C -- would normally have gotten him hard again quickly. But, first, he wasn't currently recovering from his third orgasm of the afternoon, so he'd already gotten what he wanted from her today. And, second, he had an younger, sexier, more energetic, and more adventurous woman lined up for an overnight rump at his cabin in the Cascades.

We're done here, he thought, standing and beginning to gather his clothes from where they were scattered about the room.

"Going already?" she asked with obvious disappointment. "We just got started."

Peter chuckled, then looked to the clock. "We've been at this for two hours. Isn't your husband due home soon?"

She laughed, turned to look at a stuffed version of the Oregon Ducks mascot, and slapped it playfully, sending it across the room. "Hell, he'll be at the post-game tailgate parties 'til well after dark."

"Gotta go, baby," he said, heading into the bathroom to shower. "I told you I had an appointment this afternoon."

He closed the door and, inconspicuously, locked it behind him. Peter hated post-coital company in the shower and -- despite the woman knowing this -- she'd often tried to join him during their previous football season affairs.

As he showered, he reflected on the relationship he had with this particular woman. Peter had been called odd by his male friends in the way he conducted his sexual relationships. He didn't simply meet a woman at a random time, fuck her 'til he tired of her, then move onto the next one.

He had seasonal lovers. This one was a Football Widow, married to a die hard Oregon Ducks football fan. Peter knew that on the afternoon of every home game -- and even some away games -- he was going to be here getting his rocks off. He'd been seeing this particular piece of ass since Chip Kelly became coach of the Ducks and peaked the interest in Oregon football.

He had lovers all over the Pacific North West who were married to Portland Trailblazer fans, Seattle Seahawks fans, and more, with each of the men being a season ticket holder. He could always count on these men being out of the house for the afternoon or evening. It was so simple. And so satisfying.

Peter dried his well sculpted body, redressed in his silk shirt, tight fitting Levi's jeans, and cowboy boots, and emerged with the expectation of the woman begging him to stay for just a bit longer, as she did every Sex Saturday.

Instead, he found her -- still naked -- sitting in front of her opened laptop, staring at a video. He stepped closer, asking, "What's that?"

"My instant notification went off," she began. "My sister... She said to look..."

She leaned back in the chair. "My god, it's awful. It's ... it's a riot. At Autzen!"

"Here? In town?"

"Yeah." She turned the laptop to give him a better view, then maximized the image of a helicopter view of the parking lot outside the football stadium. "They're ... oh my god, their all dead."

Peter chuckled. "Oh they are not. It's a movie or something. Fuck, it's probably some YouTube show ... The Walking Dead or..."

His words trailed off as the camera shot caught the familiar shape of Autzen stadium, then zoomed in on the dusty, gravel parking lot. Hundreds of bodies were on the ground, with other people hovering over them.

Peter pointed a finger at two people standing over a motionless body. "What's ... what're they doing?"

His lover began to sob.

As he moved closer to the computer and the camera shot closed in tightly, Peter thought he saw the people...

"Are they eating him?" his said in shock.

A police siren erupted so nearby that Peter leaped. He ran to the window, just in time to see the light illuminate atop a Eugene Police cruiser shooting off down the tree lined street. He pulled the shades back and looked to the sidewalks and yards below. People were running in every direction.

"What the hell..." he murmured. He snatched up his sports coat. "I have to go."

"Don't leave me alone!" she pleaded, hopping up and running to him. "Don't leave me here alone. Stay with me."

"I can't!" he responded, struggling to separate her from him. "Baby, c'mon. You're husband's gonna be home soon, and ... and that--!" He pointed toward the laptop. "I've got to get home in case this get's out of control."

She continued to plead with him, breaking out in deep sobs, but Peter was able to pull away and get out of the bedroom and then the house. Outside, he found that the people were all running one direction now.

"What's going on?" he called to a nearby woman.

"They're coming!" she said in a panicked voice. "Run!"

Peter shook his head and searched the surroundings, but all he could find were frightened people running about. They obviously weren't the local home owners, or they would have simply ran into their houses and locked the doors. No, these were fans from the stadium, he knew that. That meant that some of them had run over a mile, fleeing Autzen on the north side of the Willamette River, crossing the foot and bike bridges, then Franklin Boulevard, then these very old urban neighborhoods.

In what must have seemed an insane move, Peter ran against the flow of panicked people. His car was parked in the Over Park near what used to be Sacred Heart Hospital before it moved its offices out to the new Riverbend campus in Springfield. He had a reserved space there that was easier to get in and out of on game days.

He had covered almost six blocks when he saw his first "Zombie". He wasn't sure what he was seeing at first: an older woman -- exhausted and gasping for air -- was running across the lawn of the the Knight Library when two men behind her, running full out, tackled her to the ground.

As he watched, the men bit into the woman's neck. Blood spouted everywhere, covering all three bodies as the woman screamed in agony and fear. Peter knew he should do something, but he couldn't get his body to move forward. A moment later, one of the Zombies grabbed a handful of the woman's hair and jerked her head back: her neck snapped with a gruesome sound that made Peter turn and retch onto the sidewalk.

When his head stopped spinning, he searched about him and realized that the crazies were in every direction, chasing and tackling and eating others who were exhausted from their flight for safety. He began searching for a place to hide and saw people entering the Knight Library. He sprinted for the building, in front of which a Security Guard was hollering for people to stop but was doing nothing to stop them.

"Out of the way!" Peter yelled, slamming into the Guard hard enough to send him sprawling to the pavement. Peter stopped after a few steps and turned, intending to go back and help the Guard. But before he could, a pair of Zombies were all over him, biting and clawing him to an agonizing end. All he could do was mumbled, "Sorry. I'm sorry..."

He pushed his way into the Library, then grabbed the nearest body -- a woman -- and said, "We gotta keep'em out! Help me!"

Together, they tried to shut the doors, but a female Zombie slammed into it, snarling and slashing her hands at them.

"Let her in!" a voice called from behind them. "Let her in! It's safe here!"

An old man pushed up between him and the woman, trying to open the door. Suddenly, the Zombie slashed a hand at the old man, causing him to back off. Pain erupted throughout Peter's body as the Zombie sunk her nails into his upper arm with pain that reminded him of being bit by a dog as a young boy. He screamed in agony.

Peter pushed against the door harder, but the woman outside was determined, with almost superhuman strength. He was sure the Zombie was going to get in when suddenly a tube of steel flashed down and crushed the woman's skull, splashing blood all over him and the other two humans.

The Zombie fell, dead before it hit the concrete. Peter shoved it away with the sole of his cowboy boot and slammed his door shut, as did the woman helping him. She asked, "Are you okay?"

Peter looked to her, finding her covered in blood, too. And as with him, some of that blood was her own. He asked, "Are you?"

"Yeah, it's nothing."

Peter leaned against the door, looking at his wound. He flinched as a body -- presumably a Zombie -- slammed against it. He told the woman, "Keep these shut!"

He hurried to the old man -- who, in a janitor's uniform -- seemed to be the man with the knowledge. "How do we secure these doors better?"

The old man -- his name tag said "Max" -- seemed to be in shock. He, too, was covered in the Zombie's blood.

"Max!"We need to block it!"

"There!" the old man said, pointing to the walls. "Fire doors! Just slide them in place."

Peter hurried back to the entrance and in a moment they had the heavy fire doors in place. After some more inquiry with the janitor, Peter and the woman were off to secure the other doors.

It had been a long time since Peter had been inside the Knight Library. His current course study didn't bring him here often: he could get all he needed to know off the internet these days. Even when he'd been using it on an almost daily basis, Peter couldn't have told you where all of the exits were located. He did as he would in the case of an emergency: he followed the green "Exit" signs from one door to another, sliding the fire doors shut where they existed or -- with the help of a young student he snatched up -- pushing book cases over to block the doors.

Although he didn't know how long it had been, Peter and his helpers had spent almost an hour checking and rechecking all of the entrances. By the time they were done, there were 10 of them working together.

They relaxed for a minute -- some at a study table, others on the floor at their feet -- and, after a moment, began wondering aloud what exactly was going on outside. Theories outnumbered the quantity of people discussing them, ranging from a poison gas attack to brain attacking disease to aliens!

"Zombies," someone said. There was a round of laughs and sneering guffaws. The man said, "Seriously! Didn't you see what they were doing? They were eating people. That's what a Zombie does. I watch TV. I know what the fuck a Zombie is!"

The conversation waned as the exhausted survivors contemplated their situation. Peter looked beyond the group to a stairway and saw a woman sitting there. She was attractive -- a bit heavier than his normal play things, but obviously fit. That meant she took care of herself, maybe with regular exercise. That meant she'd have the stamina for--

Fuck! his brain screamed at him. Zombies are running all over campus eating people ... and you're wondering whether how long she could fuck before she ran out of oomph...? Really?

Peter stood quickly, looking around to the others. "We need to search the library. We need to know if any of those things got inside. We need to know how many people are here, inside. And we need to check the exits again, just to be sure."

He looked toward the lobby but didn't see the person for whom he was looking. "Anyone see where that janitor went ... Max?"

No one had. Peter headed off, looking for the man who surely would know more about the Knight Library than anyone here today. He was already thinking about the future, near and long term. He was pretty certain that they were going to be stuck inside the library for at least a day or two while the police and National Guard -- whose helicopter he'd seen through the window -- got control of the situation.

Peter had gotten stuck in a riot in Alexandria during the Arab Spring, while on study abroad. He knew a little about holing up in a safe place. And while the library would probably be the safest place on campus to hide, he needed to be certain that no one -- human or Zombie -- could get inside.

OOC: Normally my posts aren't so long, but the first post always is, right?

Daniel had been in the Libraray studying during the game. All his friends had gone to it, and they even had a ticket that they had offered to him, but he had politely declined. He needed to study. His grades had been deteriorating, and he needed them to be good. His parents were paying lots of money for him to go here, and he wasn't going to throw that out the window. They had tried to convince him to come, to change his mind, but he was firm in his decision, and eventually his friends had left them alone, and invited a some chick they had picked up.

That was the last time Daniel had seen them. And he doubted he would ever see them again.

He had been reading a textbook on physics when he heard noise near the TV room. Curious, he had went over to check it out. He saw that a bunch of people were watching the game on the TV. Uninterested, Daniel had turned around to return to his studying, when he heard a scream. He turned around, looking at the screen on the TV, as one of the viewers had screamed, and saw something that almost made him vomit. It made everyone else who was watching vomit, though.

There, on the screen, showed several people making a riot. But it wasn't just that. They were pouncing on others, and once they had brought them down, they had dug their teeth into them, taking bites of their flesh. Sickened, Daniel turned away and ran outside, kneeling over and vomiting, his breakfast leaving his stomach.

Wiping his mouth, Daniel regained his composure. Before he could think about what he had just seen, he heard a loud bang. It was coming from the front hallway. He ran to it, hoping that the, the...things hadn't entered. He saw two people, a man and a woman, banging the door shut, trying to keep out another woman. Daniel could have sworn it was an ordinary person trying to get in and save herself, but when an old man tried to let her in, she swiped at him, her teeth bared.

The old man backed away, and the woman trying to force herself in dug her nails into the two who were trying to keep her out. They began screaming in pain, but they continued on, trying to close the door. Daniel could only stand and watch, his usual hunting instincts frozen. The old man, however, had recognized their need, and went for the brass poles and velvet ropes creating the line for checking out desks. Realizing his plan, Daniel helped him unhook the ropes, and the man grabbed the pole, lifting it up.

He ran over to the door, and swung the pole down, right onto the head of the woman forcing her way through the door. Instantly her skull was smashed open, like a watermelon. Daniel gagged once more, almost vomiting yet again, as blood splattered all over the old man, everyone surroudning, including Daniel himself, and the two who tried to force the woman out. There were others outside, but the door was shut, and locked. Those on the outside were banging against it, however, and someone hollered to block the door.

"There! Fire doors! Just slide them into place!" the old man yelled, and Daniel and the others immediately set to it, barricading the doors. The elder, his name was Max, based on a name tag he was wearing, had collapsed into the nearest chair, no doubt the shock of killing someone taking its toll.

"Max!" a man, the one who had been scratched by the creature, woman, the thing, yelled. Max looked at him, confused, and then he answered him with a simple "What?"

"Are there other ways they can get inside? Are there other doors that are unlocked?" the man asked the elderly Max. Daniel, his heart pounding at what he had just witnessed, hoped that the old man would answer quickly. He knew what a hunter would do to catch a prey, and that was to corner it, and then attack, blocking off al escape routes. The things had, no doubt, begun surrounding the Library, and the moment they found a way in, they would swarm in, overwhelming them and devouring them, literally.

"Max! the man yelled once more when he had failed to receive a response. Finally, the old man muttered something.

"No. Saturday. Only the main entrance is open this time of the day on Saturday. Emergency exits ... open from inside. The rest are alarmed ... no alarms ... they're closed--" he muttered, barely audible to Daniel, but plenty audible to the man towering above Max

A man hurried in, one of the others who had been in the Libraray, one of the other...survivors.

"We need to check the whole building and make sure none of those ... those crazy people are in here." he told them all. Immediately, everyone, including Daniel, and spread out, scurrying everywhere, leaving no corner unchecked, to make sure that none of the, the... the Zombies, or whatever they were, were all outside.

Daniel mainly followed the man who had been interrogating Max. He appeared to be in charge. And besides, he had shown immense bravery and leadership through out that entire ordeal. They slid the fire doors shut, and pushed the bookcases over the fire doors, just to be careful. Those...Zombies showed immense strength, and a whole horde of them would be immensely difficult to keep out with just fire doors.

Once they were done checking and rechecking everything, Daniel followed the man back to the Library, where it appeared that the ten who had been scouring the entire building had set up base. They all relaxed a moment, Daniel standing with some others. After a moment of silence, they all began to theorize what had begun all this. At first, they had serious ideas, but then, after a while, they began to become more and more crazy and unbelievable. Eventually, someone suggested Zombies.

Everyone laughed at him, but he insisted, and soon people begun to take in the message, letting it sink in. People had begun to quiet down, sinking into their own thoughts.

Daniel just couldn't believe what had happened. His day had started out as a perfectly normal one, and then within the space of ten minutes, everything had changed. This only happened in movies and books. Daniel thought to himself Hey, this is only some dream. If I pinch myself, I will wake up and everything will be fine. He tested that theory, closing his eyes and pinching himself, hard. He opened his eyes, but nothing had changed. This wasn't a dream. It was real. There were Zombies right outside, and they wanted to eat them, dead or alive, it didn't matter.

He hoped that his friends and family wouldn't be harmed. Judging by how quickly it had started, if it spreads, it would spread fast. Maybe it was a virus of a sort, a disease. He hoped not. He hoped that only a select few would be affected by it, and that it wouldn't spread, like a Zombie Apocalypse.

Thinking like a hunter, he changed his attitude, to think logically. They needed to find all the food, all the weapons, and figure out how they would survive, isolated from the outside world. Eventually the electricity and heating wold run out, unless this whole thing ended quickly. But they had to have a back up, just in case this lasted a long time.

They needed food, water, warmth. They could burn the books if necessary. There were plenty of flammable items here. But that didn't solve their food and water predicament. For now, they were good. But they would need to figure out about later. They would have to, at a point, venture outside and face the world. No, not fave the world. They would have to face the Zombies.

Taking an other deep breath, I lift my rucksack from my shoulders. I need some water. I need a sweet. The lemon one tastes good after a few mouthfuls of water. My bottle is nearly empty afterwards and I shake it, looking at the sloshing liquid inside. A refill would be good. Who knows how long there will be water?

I tell myself not to be stupid, of course there will be water! Water comes out of every faucet!

“Now, yes.” Says a voice in the back of my head. “But how long? You better start digging a well, dear, or build a cistern.”

My rucksack hanging on my left shoulder I go up the stairs again, towards the toilets. After I got rid of some used water, I flush the toilet. That is an enormous amount of water gushing down the drain … I wash my hands, lather the soap, all the time looking and listening to the water running out off the faucet and down the drain. It is wonderful, soothing sound and a sight which makes me anxious. I fill my bottle, drink some more, and fill my bottle again. Till the rim. I screw the lid back on, and weigh the bottle in my hand. A bit over a liter now.

Sighing I put the bottle in my rucksack. I walk around, a bit aimlessly, following the outside walls and looking out of the windows. On the lawn are people. Some lying on the ground, some are running, some are hunching over those lying down. But not to help them.

All windows are closed. I make sure of that.

I spread my map out on a table, and try to retract my path. I am without a clue about my whereabouts. Finally I look up. I found quite some buildings with lawns in front of them. Libraries, museums, and such. I plant my butt on the edge of the table and try to make sense of the words I heard while sitting on the stairs. Didn’t someone say something about only the main entrance of the library being open on Saturday? I take another look at the map. There are quite some libraries pointed out on it.

It is no use, I still don’t have an idea in which building I am. From downstairs some noise drifts up to me, they are barricading the doors, it seems.

Looking down at my rucksack the top zip seems to ask me to open it. My phone is in there. I really want to talk to my daughters. I need to hear they are okay. Of course they are okay, I tell myself, they are sound asleep.

“You hope so!” The voice in the back of my head states. “They could still be at a party. It is not that late back home, you know. And who told you these Zombies are only here? And why are you still hoping the police will have this cleaned up before tomorrow morning? Could very well be a new dawn has broken for mankind. Or for the Zombies. Could very well be you are in for the long haul.”

With a wry smile I take my phone and write the twins an SMS. And one at my ex, telling all three to take care of each other, that I am alright, that they shouldn’t get a fright if something strange appears on the news tomorrow morning. I tell them I love them. The phone beeps its “I am low on energy”-beep. Sighing I take the adapter and search a power outlet. I plug my phone in, decided to keep it loaded from now on or at least as long as there is power, and I check how much money is left on it. Not very much … I load more money on my phone, which to my surprise is no problem. My credit card is valid! I shrug my shoulders. Computers can’t turn into Zombies.

I slump down beside my phone and start to cry, pressing a handkerchief to my mouth to muffle my sobbing sounds. An endless time later I am completely drained, slowly I get up, go to the bathroom and wash my face. I leave my phone lying on the ground, pick up my rucksack and go back to the stairs, the map in my hand. I sit down again.

A cistern … A kitchen! Library or museum, there certainly is some kind of kitchen here somewhere with some kind of food in it. Even if it is junk for vending machines. We need some food and sleep in a secure place. Some room with a door upstairs wouldn’t be bad.

My musings are interrupted by the agitated voices of young people. They are discussing what has happened outside. I sigh. They are for the most part so young. Some are barely older than my students. One looks over to me while I count the heads. Ten. With me, eleven. The young man who had looked at me, asks where the janitor is and stands up, to find him I suppose. There was a voice before from an elder person I remember now. Could he be the janitor? That would make twelve.

Sighing once more I stand up and walk down the stairs, towards the nine young people around the table.

“Hello everyone!” I say. “I am glad you all are inside this building. I have no idea where I am, could one of you show me on the map?” I keep talking, some seem to be very nervous. “I am Ria van der Plas, do call me Ria, my last name might be a bit difficult for you to pronounce. I am Dutch, here for some sightseeing. Which I will have to postpone a bit it seems. In my rucksack are some pastry and crackers.” I say, putting my rucksack down beside a chair.

I open the zipper of my coat, take it off and hang it over the back of the chair. “Shall we put all the food we have on the table, and have a snack? If some of you would get some more chairs we all would be comfortable, as soon as the young man who went for the janitor, and the janitor come back to us.” They still seem nervous, taken aback. So more chatter, I decide. New class, you just have to get to know them, and they just have to get to know you, I tell myself.

“I am afraid we will have to spend the night here, does one of you know if there are some lazy chairs anywhere? It would be much more comfortable to nuzzle up in one of them, or on cushions we put down than just lying on the floor.” By now I am sitting and start to put the pastry and stuff on the table. I look them over, taking in their faces, ready to memorize the names that belong to them.

“My phone is loading and I would be happy to lend any of you who also has a Nokia my adapter to load your phone. Or you could use mine to call your family, if you are low on money. I just loaded an enormous amount of money onto it, everything is still working fine.”

The words “but how long that will be so, I don’t know” I just manage to gulp down.

(OOC: Introducing "Lola", an NPC character that -- should anyone be more familiar with her "situation" and want to write her -- is available for "adoption". I am introducing her here simply to stimulate some conversation.)

Lola was peeking at the Ria through the stacks, watching her dig into her bag. Water and candy, she thought to herself with disappointment. When Ria moved on, Lola headed in the other direction, finding another person to spy on until, again, she was pretty sure she wasn't going to find what she needed.

“Hello everyone!” she heard a woman say. She turned to find Ria again, this time near the table where a group of Survivors were assembled. “I am glad you all are inside this building..."

She moved closer to the group, her eyes moving from person to person as the woman with the strange accent -- Dutch it turned out -- chatted about herself, her snacks, and ... other stuff to which Lola wasn't listening closely.

“Shall we put all the food we have on the table," Ria continued, peaking Lola's attention. She didn't give a crap about cheese and crackers and pepperoni sticks, but she was interested in getting a peek in the purses and back packs that some -- but certainly not all -- of the students were beginning to open.

She moved around the table as Ria continued talking about sleeping arrangements and cell calls, trying to be inconspicuous as she glanced into bags, purses, and pockets. One of the younger girls in an Oregon Ducks sweatshirt looked up at her suspiciously and closed her purse. A moment after that -- when Lola got caught leaning over to look down into another green and yellow clad woman's back pack -- the student asked with a harsh tone, "Can I help you, bitch?"

Lola hesitated for a moment, feeling accusing eyes on her from around the group. She took a step back and, in a meek voice that almost didn't carry to the opposite side of the table, said, "That depends."

"On what?" the girl snapped, her rude attitude persisting.

Lola looked the girl straight in the eyes, trying to remain strong, but her own eyes began to glaze over as she said, "On whether you have a bottle of insulin and a fresh needle in your purse."

She knew she was about to cry -- sob even -- and turned away quickly. She took one, then two slow steps, then ran away toward the library's lobby entrance. She almost smacked into a pair of men exiting a hallway, apologized, then turned and shot for the Women's bathroom, where she dropped onto the floor in a stall next to the toilet and burst into tears.

We all watched her run away.

Could it really be that she was so badly informed about her condition she thought she absolutely needed insulin? Of course she would in the long run, but people lived with diabetes for many years before insulin was available. They lived on very strict diets though. Mainly vegetables and meat. Those who didn’t keep their diet didn’t survive very long. But surely this girl would be able to live a few days quite comfortably if she would stay away from carbohydrates and wouldn’t over-exercise her body.

I wondered if I should follow her, but two men, an older one and the young one who had been asking about the janitor, where coming towards us.

While Daniel was thinking his own thoughts, when a lady walked in, greeting everyone. Daniel's focus shifted to her. She had an accent that he couldn't place. It didn't bother him, he just noticed it. She introduced herself as Ria van der Plas, but insisted on being called Ria. She stated that she was Dutch(that was her accent!), and was sightseeing when the riots broke out. She also said that she had pastries and crackers, and she put her backpack on the table.

She unzipped her coat and hangs it on her chair, and suggests putting all their food on the table. A couple people grabbed some chairs, at her suggestion, but were still nervous. Daniel remained standing. He, however, had to admire how Ria had opened up conversation with all of them. Either she was a leader type, like the man who had left to get Max, or she was used to this. She could have been a teacher or something like that.

She talked a bit about the sleeping arrangements, and how she had a phone with lots of money on it, but Daniel wasn't really listening. He had noticed a young girl was looking into other people's purses and bags. Was she typing to pickpocket them? Or did she want to know what they had? Before Daniel could stop her form stealing, she was caught lookin gento someone's purse. A student immediately drew all attention onto her as she confronted the girl about what she was doing by saying, in a rude manner, "Can I help you, bitch?"

The girl who had been peeking into the bags and purses, responded with a simple "That depends. The student, confused, asked for some clarification, im a rude way, of course, and the girl, trying to hold back tears, talked about insulin and a needle and then ran away to the lobby. Daniel racked his brain as to what insulin was, when it struck him.

A diabetic! That would most definitely make things difficult. Now they had to go outside if things took too long, they couldn't just wait for things to die down and be rescued. He silently cursed. It seemed that luck wasn't on their side today.

Daniel saw, in his periphery vision, that the young man, the Leader, was returning with the janitor in tow, and he almost lept for joy. He knew it was a small thing, but at least one thing had worked out for them. Each goal they achieved, no mTter how small, would help them to survive longer.

(OOC: I promise: these will get shorter.)

Peter and Max watched as the young woman -- an older teen, it seemed -- shot past them and down the hall. They glanced at one another and almost simultaneously asked the other whether they should check on her.

But when she disappeared into the Ladies Room, they both turned and continued onward to the group that had assembled around the tables in the middle of the main floor.

"You're probably wondering why I called you all here today," Peter said, trying to bring some levity to the otherwise tense situation. He gave the individuals a moment to react in their own ways, then gestured to the older man. "Everyone, this is Max. Max, this is everyone."

Max gave a meek wave as a few of them greeted him.

"Not everyone," someone said from behind the pair. A young man -- mid-20s perhaps -- came walking up, pointing a finger toward the heavens. "We have another group ... maybe ten, twelve, upstairs. I tried to talk them into coming down, but they won't open the door of the study room they're hiding in."

He dropped into a chair and strugged. "You're not going to believe this, but ... they got kids with'em. A couple of grade school teachers with pre-teens in tow. Some kind of field trip."

Several of the group exchanged glances, expressions, and comments about the new development, then Peter took the lead again.

"Max here is a Senior Custodial Engineer ...who, it turns out--" He smiled to the sixty-something man. "-- prefers janitor instead."

"A bit pretentious," Max mumbled about the title that Personnel had put at the top of his employment papers so many years earlier.

"Max gave me a little tour of the basement, as well as the main floor," Peter continued. He glanced around to some of the faces he'd seen during their walk, people who had been helping to secure the building. "He thinks we're pretty secure for now. And...!"

He stepped closer to the table and dumped a small box he'd been holding on his hip. Its contents spilled out upon the table: granola bars, bags of low fat chips, cheese and crackers dual packs, and other more healthy items spread across the table. "Max and I raided the Community Shelf in the Employees Lounge. Dig in, but be aware: that might be all there is for a while, so ... share."

Peter knew that there was a lot more food available, of course. Max had shown him the vending machines in the Employees Lounge -- drinks, candy, muffins, yogurt, and so much more -- but the two of them had decided that until they had a better idea of how long they'd be trapped there and how many people were in the library, it was better to keep that information to themselves.

The reactions to the sudden bounty spilled atop the table were mixed: some of the Survivors eagerly snatched up a few items, while others held back a moment or didn't take anything at all. There was a moment of negotiations and trading, resulting in some laughter as the Survivors haggled over calories and fat.

Peter couldn't help but notice that some of the faces remained very solemn, despite the sudden humor of their neighbors.

"Listen, folks," Peter began. "I ... I don't want you to think this is a power grab or anything. But ... I would like to offer my leadership, at least for tonight. Until we have a chance to understand exactly what we're dealing with right. If you don't like what I suggest ...well, ignore me, I guess. Okay...?"

He looked between the faces for a moment. Again, the expressions varied.

Peter recognized a few of the people from Campus activities, and -- being the BMOC a few years back -- he was sure they would remember him as the former President of the Student Body, a popular Intramurals Athlete, and pretty successful Ladies Man, as well as other things. They would likely trust him without question, so long as he didn't try to inappropriately push his will on them.

The others seemed evenly split between trusting him -- for now -- and questioning his motives. He continued on without too much hesitation, to ensure that his motives -- the safety and comfort of the group -- were clear.

"Max here," he said, stepping back to put a hand on the janitor's shoulder, "has a few things we might want. The lost and found has coats, sweaters, sweat shirts ... there are even a couple of picnic blankets amd stadium blankets.

Peter glanced toward one of the younger woman, a tall sexy thing in a tight, strapless top, tiny skirt, and three inch heels. She was all legs and round flesh, and earlier when Peter spotted her, he'd immediately decided that he would part those legs at the earliest convenience and enjou that young flesh. When she realized he was staring at her endless legs, Peter said, "And more comfortable shoes for those of you who need them."

He looked back to thw group. "Max says the thermostat is automatic and, because the library is open 24 hours a day, it will stay warm in here tonight. But, it's still not gonna be as warm as your bed at home, so we need to think about that now."

"Some of the lounge chairs," Max began, "have cushions that can be removed ...used as mattresses. And the Employee's Lounge has couches ...so does the second floor study area."

"I think we should move'em all to the second floor," a woman said, just as yet another slam from a Zombie crashing against the Library doors echoed through the main floor. "Get us away from that."

There was some agreement, and Peter told her she was probably right. As he looked around the group, then started pointing at individuals, Peter said, "Okay, so ...why don't we do this. You, you, and you ...gather every couch cushion you can pull off and run them upstairs. We can use the study rooms, so we're behind another set of doors. Girls together, boys together, family or friends or ...whatever. There's plenty of room so do as you need. You and you ...how about looking around for backpacks and such that might have been left. See if they contain anything we can use. More food, medicines. We need all the first aid kits from around the building ...how about you and you?"

"Lost and found," Max reminded softly.

"Right!" Peter responded. "If anyone needs something to wear, why don't you go with Max first. And we're going to need people to be ...what should we call'em...? Lookouts? Someone's got to stay up tonight and keep an eye out for those..."

When he hesitated, wondering what to call them, someone spat out, "Zombies!"

Peter saw the mood in the room at the word. But, what else could they call them? That seemed to be what they were, eating on limbs and bodies of their formerly-fellow man like they were pieces of extra-rare chicken thighs.

Eager to get every mind on a task, Peter pointed to more faces, saying things like "Check the shelves and drawers for letter openers or knives or other weapons..." "Snacks and such in cupboards in the Employee areas..." "Monitor the internet in the Electronics room, for news about what's going in..." And more.

"Oh!" someone called out. "Can we call our families? Find out what's going in ...let'em know we're okay? I don't have a phone."

Instinctively, several people looked immediately to Ria. Discussion about calls and phones continued for a moment, then people started scattering.

But not all of them. A few stayed in place, but Peter couldn't tell from their expressions and body language whether it was simply from continuing shock or rebellion toward his taking command. He chose not to find out, instead turning away with a trio of Survivors who said they were interested in helping as Lookouts. They walked off, discussing their plans for keeping the others safe.


OOC: I'm thinking that we can all post a couple of more times (or just one, if you want) for this first evening; then we can jump ahead to sunrise. I have some more IC and OOC information I want to make available, and we have some more writers who want to join before we get too far. So, I don't really want to leave this first day for a bit. Sound okay?

Also, I can't correct the now-abandoned Game stuff from my Tablet here at work. I have to wait until I get to my computer at home tonight. So, I can't do the work on the OOC stuff that we need to proceed until this evening.)

An other group, with quite young kids! I almost missed what was said next as I realized what that meant: Much more responsibility. Some of the folk around the table were very young, but pre-teens … I sighed. They were lucky that fieldtrip was here, and not at the Zoo or some other place outside.

Peter had appointed tasks to everyone, without really asking if there were volunteers for certain things, and if maybe some would prefer to stay together. Some who had looked at me when phoning home was mentioned were still, with some others, gathered around the table. I had shoved my chair back -to search the place for weapons and other useful things had to be done- when I realized some of the young folk radiated a disposure I only knew too well: students presented with a task they didn’t want to do, but very adept at not showing this by body-language or facial expressions. Others simply looked frightened. I leaned back in my chair.

“It might very well be that we won’t get help from the police, fire-brigade or who ever for some time. With ‘some time’ I don’t mean five minutes or five hours but maybe five days or longer. This seems to be a major problem, a Super GAU.” Seeing quizzing looks on some faces at the acronym I used, I explained it.

“GAU, Größter Anzunehmender Unfall, german for Biggest Imaginable Accident. The word super explains itself I think?” I looked them in the eyes, lingering on each face for a few seconds. Some nodded, some closed their eyes as I looked at them. Some were stone-faced. “It would really be good if we knew what is here, what food we have, which of that should be used first, etcetera. I think it would be best if we get up now, to my phone, so that those who want to call home or send SMS can do so, on the way up we will keep our eyes open, collect what we can, and afterwards we take a look at that other group, ask them if they need food or water. All the while looking for stuff we could use.”

Again I looked them in the eyes. Again I got some nods, a soft yes, an alright, and one was already standing up.

“So that is okay with all of you? Does someone prefer to stay here, to clean the table?”

Not surprisingly nobody volunteered for that and I couldn’t completely suppress my smile. Which got me some questioning, scornful looks.

I grinned. “Well, neither one of my daughters ever volunteers if I put it that way too. That is why I had to smile just now.” This at least, got me some smiles and grins and they were standing up. One even picked a wrapping from the ground and put it on the table.

Max was surprised at how many of the people in the Library made their way down to his Underworld over the next hour or two. He blocked the "Staff Only" door open in the lobby foyer, then put up some hand written signs to direct them through the maze that led to his office in the B2 basement level.

After a while, it began to occur to him that he shouldn't be surprised at the parade coming his way. The Zombie Riot had struck in the middle of a relatively warm September Saturday. There had been thousands of people -- either at the game or out in town -- who had been dressed for fair weather.

Not only that, but a lot of people had been dressed for style, not comfort or utility. He may have been an old fart, but Max had taken notice of the young beauty in the tight skirt, just as Peter had. Although that outfit may have gotten her a lot of attention from the men about her, it wasn't what she needed at this moment. It hadn't surprised Max when the redhead made her way down and picked out a loose, thick tee shirt, set of mismatched sweats, and over sized tennis shoes.

He thought he'd seen just about everyone when yet another Survivor wandered in to poke through the dozen big boxes. "Where's it all come from?"

"People set stuff down and walk off without it," Max explained. He pointed to the boom box that had been on the shelf for years and the poster on the wall. "You never know what's gonna be left under a table or on a lounge chair."

"So...?" the student asked. "Can I take just anything?"

Max shrugged. "Take what you need. Most of this stuff has been here for at least one school year, and somehow, I don't think anyone's coming back for it now."


OOC: A task for all Writers:

• Imagine 5 things that would end up in the Library's Lost and Found. Be realistic: no AK-47s, no bags of gold, no boxes of jerky (as Max would have taken perishables to the Employees' Lounge ... or would have eaten them himself. .)
• Then, flip a coin for each item.
• If it comes up heads, that item is in the L&F.
• Your character can have it.
• Feel free to post about it in your next reply.
• This is an act of trust between you and I.

3rd Floor Knight Library “Audio & Video Room (Douglass Room)”

Ok … you know how you feel when everyone else has seen the latest popular movie or TV show and you haven’t seen it? They are all excited about it and talking about different scenes and various characters … and you just have NO CLUE? You know how that feels?

Anyhow, that is exactly how I felt as I open the door that led back to the 3rd floor of the Knight Library from the small individual listening room I had been in. Knight Library “Audio & Video Room” or “Douglass Room” area has one small room where you can listen to music for up to 3 hours. I had entered the room right when the whole zombie thing went down. And since I could not hear anything … I had no clue what had happened. In fact I was in a pretty good mood … I had been listening to music for my MUSIC 355 class. The class is for non-music majors called “Beethoven”. The course catalog described the class as the life and works of Beethoven considered in the context of the tumultuous events of post-revolutionary Europe. Works include piano sonatas, symphonies, and quartets. The last song I listened to was the ode to joy! Beethoven's 9th.

But let me tell you a little bit more about myself. I live at home with my parents. My father treats me like daddy's little girl, even though I had worn out a EE-cup bra since I was 15. My measurements are 34FF-25-36, so I have the perfect hour glass figure. You might describe me as sexy voluptuous.

As for today, I’m wearing a deep cut red sweater blouse, with some tight fitting blue jeans and my comfortable Nike running shoes. They cost a fortune …but if you live in Oregon … you’d better wear Nikes!

There are a few other things about me that I need to tell you. I'm usually the adventurous type. I playing pool, love to race cars, and I’m a stripper!! I’m proud of my stripping. My stage name is Fantasia Thunderjuggs by the way, and I work at the “silver dollar” strip club in town. It is how I’m paying for college and my car.

Anyhow, as I was telling you … I grabbed my book bag and walked out of the “Audio & Video” area and past the oversized book section to the spiral stair case. Then I headed down the stairs when I noticed all these really stressed out people carrying chair cushions and other shit up to the second level. It was freaky! Like the building was flooding or something. I just walked past them to the first floor ... there the front doors were closed ... but i headed to them anyhow. Finally I realized I had to ask someone what was going on ... there was a lady cleaning a table so ... (she must of thought I was the typical dumb blonde!)

“Hey … what is going? Why is the door locked?” I asked.

Everyone reacted in different ways when they were given jobs by our temporary Leader. Some were upset, some werent satisfied, but Daniel didn't care much about the jobs. What really bothered him was the fact that there were a bunch of kids in the building. Not only would that mean more people to take care of, but it also meant that they had to protect them. They could be helpful, but they were more vulnerable than them. Specially since they had locked themselves up into one room.

The moment he suggested lookouts, Daniel volunteered. Only two others did. Daniel had taken a snack or two, just so that he wouldn't starve, and when the man had finished commanding everyone and walked off with the other lookouts, he followed close behind. Daniel looked behind him quickly, and saw Ria motivating them some more. Looks like both are developing a group of followers. What if it really is a power grab? he thought to himself. This same thing had happened a lot in the real world. People saying that they will make everything better, but then taking control of the government and becoming dictators. What if the same thing was happening here?

If something like that happened, but there were two who wanted power, there would either be a "civil war", or they would become co-dictators. Either one wouldn't be good. If that happened, Daniel would most definitely either try and stop them, or leave. He didn't want a dictator here. If anything, once they had calmed down and set up a stable community, they would elect a leader. But he was getting ahead of himself. For all he knew, these two leaders, Ria and the young man, genuinely cared for their safety.

I smiled at those still around me . Told them that I would clean the table this time. I also told them we would make a schedule for such things quite soon. Made a note to myself to talk with Peter as soon as possible. We all had to pull at one string here and no-one should get the impression he was an usurper. It would be better if we had an election or such quite soon. Not for one person to be the leader maybe, but for a council kind of thing. The Romans did fairly well as long as they were reigned by a triumvirate. After I explained where they would find my phone I started to collect the debris. I had just put some plastic bottles to the side, we would need these to start to make a water supply, as a voice startled me. Not as much the voice, but the words the girl used.

“Hey, what is going? Why is the door locked?”

I smiled at her, remembering the times I was so lost in a book that I didn’t notice what was going on around me.

“You better sit down. It really is bad. It seems we are surrounded by Zombies.”

Her eyebrows rose up high on her brow.

“That was not right. ‘Seem’ was really superfluous in that sentence. Sorry. We are surrounded by Zombies. No other way to put it.” I watched her closely, saw the unbelieving expression on her face and heard her murmuring something about this being a joke, or a game.

“No.” I told her, taking her arm and guiding her to a chair, taking a chair opposite her myself. “No. It is no joke, no game, it is real. What exactly has happened I don’t know, but I was in a coffee-shop when the riots started three hours ago in the stadium, and I was out on the street when I saw a woman eating the eyeball of a man. I ran to save my life. As did others. Some made it inside, some are lying on the lawn. Dead, partly eaten by the Zombies. Come upstairs, I will show you, that might be more convincing as me telling, even if I don’t really want to see it again.”

With a deep sigh I got to my feet, beckoned her to follow me.

Peter led the wanna-be Lookouts around the library, essentially retracing his steps from when he and the others had secured the fire doors earlier. One of the two women -- who admitted to being a bit of an OCD organizational freak -- snatched Fire Escape Route maps off the wall on each floor and made notes as the group proceeded. The other woman and men -- increasing to five by the time they'd finished the "tour" -- made comments and, in response to Peter's questions, told a little bit about their backgrounds, specifically gun handling experience, military experience, and other "security" like subjects.

Peter was impressed with the group. Once they armed themselves, they would -- he hoped -- be able to protect the little Community inside the library to a level he hadn't hoped for earlier.

Peter had some experience with inexperienced types: he'd once participated in a retreat in the woods that had been designed to teach trust and teamwork, only to find out that most of his partners had never even camped before. Trust and teamwork hadn't turned out to be the issues: ignorance and stupidity had.

This group, however, showed great promise, which was why he brought up the next topic as early as he did. He led the seven into a second floor study room and closed the door, asking them to take a seat.

"I know where we can get firearms," he said bluntly.

The reactions varied, from delighted smiles to worried grimaces. They know what's coming already, he thought to himself. We have to go outside.

"I live just a couple of blocks from here, in a large house I share with some other Grad students," he went on. "And my room mates, two of them ... well, let's just say that they're ... well, they're well armed ... assuming they're still alive."

Before he could even make his suggestion, an animated discussion broke out between the seven. One argued that they needed guns to protect themselves. Another said that as long as they remained inside, they were protected and guns were a moot issue. And yet a third pointed out that if the whole Zombie thing went on long term, staying inside wouldn't be an option.

Peter remained quiet through the conversation, as did some of the seven, and after a few minutes things settled down and most of the eyes returned to watch him.

"No one has to go outside who doesn't want to," he said in a sincere tone. "I am. Tomorrow, maybe. Monday at the latest. Anyone who wants to go can come with me. Anyone who doesn't can stay here and protect the library."

"With what?" one of the pro-gun men mumbled derisively. "A dictionary?"

Peter could see that an argument was going to break out and quickly cut in. "No judgements! It's fucking scary out there! If someone doesn't want to go out there, I don't blame them, and neither will you."

Before anyone could respond -- either to his comment about judgement or his demand for understanding -- there was a knock at the door, which opened immediately. A woman poked her head in and said, "Max is looking for you."

"Thank you, tell him I'll be right down." He looked back to the seven. "Take the evening to think about it. It's your own personal decision. Those who want to go, meet back here at 10am tomorrow. For now..."

He took a deep breath and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "I'm gonna get some sleep."

The group broke up and went their separate ways, with some of them continuing to discuss the issue. Peter remained quiet. He'd already taken in more of a leadership role than he was due, and he wanted to make sure that no one felt pressured by this guy they didn't or barely knew.

OOOOOOOO​

OOC:

• Peter is done for the night. He's going to bed. (Actually, he's going to find the sexy redhead and see if she needs some comfort from a strong man. Pig! BTW, the redhead is an available character, if someone wants to write her. Contact me for details.)
• If your character, male or female, wishes to go out for weapons and other supplies tomorrow, there is a good chance of notcoming back, which I will further explain in an OOC post I will write tonight. Think about it.
• Everyone should make their closimg posts for the evening. I am going to jump us ahead to Sunday morning on (real) Saturday morning.

Along the way, the leader, whose name, he had learned, was Peter, asked them all several questions. Daniel didn't speak until he was asked directly, which didn't happen often. Despite the fact that they were holed up in here, and they needed to work together, Daniel was still shy. He always had been, especially around girls(and there were a couple in the group), but soon he would loosen up a bit. He told Peter that he was an experienced hunter, a good shot, and was very good with guns. Overall, everyone in the group, which had slowly grown to seven, had some experience that would be most invaluable.

Peter had led them into a second floor study room, closed the door, and asked them to sit. Daniel, as usual, didn't, but most everyone else did.

"I know where we can get firearms," he said straight out. Daniel immediately grinned. With guns, the Zombies would be much less of a problem. With all of them working together with guns, than protection would be the least of their worries. But he knew that getting the guns would be a huge problem.

"I live just a couple blocks from here, in a large house I share with some other Grad students. And my roommates, two of them ... well, let's just say that they're ... Well, they're well armed ... assuming they're still alive," he told them. Everyone immediately began discussing whether getting the guns was worth it. Sme said that they needed guns for protection. Some said they should stay here and wait out the Zombies. Yet another argued that if they waited for a long time, they would need guns eventually. Daniel was most definitely of the opinion that they should go for the guns. But, as usual, his shyness took over.

"No one has to go outside if they don't want to. I am. Tomorrow, maybe. Monday at the latest. Anyone who wants to go can come with me. Anyone who doesn't can stay here and protect the library." Peter told them all, speaking very sincerely. Daniel had made up his mind already, he just hoped he wasn't the only one who had decided that.

Many were still trash talking the other opinions, but then Peter spoke again. Resuming the role of leader, he spoke with a tone that transfixed the group.

"no judgements! It's fucking scary out there! If someone doesn't want to go out there, I don't blame them, and neither will you." Daniel was amazed at how Peter had exerted his leadership. He didn't just seize control. When he spoke, people wanted to listen to him, and he didn't use that for his own use. He did it so that they would all work together, so they could work efficiently. Peter deserved their respect, there was no doubt about that.

There was a knock on the closed door, and a woman poked her head in. "Max is looking for you." She motioned to Peter. He nodded, thanking here, and turned back to them all. He simply reminded them it was their own personal decision, and to meet him here tomorrow at 10 AM if they were gonna go outside. He then said he wa soft to bed. After a couple moments, the group split up. Most seemed to be off to bed. Daniel left the study, went down to the first floor, and returned to where he had been studying before all this had started. His books were still there, as was all his stuff he had packed for the day. His lunch, some notebooks, pencils. And, at the top, above everything, his fathers hunting knife.

Sighing, he grabbed the knife, out it in his pocket, and then slung his backpack onto his shoulder. If he rationed his lunch, a turkey sandwich and two bags if chips, it could last for two days, three at the most. So food wasn't an immediate problem. And besides, there was all the food that they had brought, some of which he had grabbed. He had taken a couple of peanut crackers, and one more bag of chips. Wat Daniel needed was a place to sleep. He looked around until he found the teachers lounge. There were quite a few others, but due to the darkness, Daniel didn't know how many or who. So he walked over to some furniture, an armchair, and sat down in it, and soon fell asleep, his exhaustion catching up with him.

And he sure did need that rat. Tomorrow, he would be going outside.

This older lady was trying to tell me the building was surrounded by zombies. “Zombies! … Really! … aren’t you kind of old to be play this kind of game” I was thinking. All the students I had met … or danced for at the strip club … that were into the game called “human vs zombie or HvZ” had been in their early twenties. This lady must have been in her forties.

But I had to admit she was a great actor! She even had that goofy Dutch accent down pat. I have been to the Netherlands and remember what it sounded like. So she was good. But I was not buying it. She told me to follow her … I thought why not? So she took me up the stairs and to the large windows in the quiet reading area. There was a good view from the windows and I could see the dead bodies lying all over the place around the library in the glow of the street lamps.

“Wow … you HvZ guys went all out this time … even putting dead bodies out … awesome!” I said “But I need to get to work” I explained. She pointed to one of the computer terminals.

I pulled out my UO DuckID card and logged on. The internet came up and was full of the pictures of the football riot and the close ups of the people eating each other. I went to a few sites to make sure this was not some kind of trick.

“HOLY FUCK” I gasp … I just could not believe it. This was like one of those science fiction movies … like World War Z …I was not really sure what to do next.

“I need to see if my parents are ok” I said pulling out my cell phone and called. There was no answer. FUCK. I just did not want my old world taken from me like this … I loved my job … my car … my life … this zombie shit was going to fuck all that up. Well maybe. Maybe this was just a weird local problem. The Army would come in and save us. No way could zombies stop tanks. NO WAY. We just needed to wait for help to arrive. I thought about those movies and those people that did not accept the change in their world … usually ended up zombie food. I did not want to be zombie food.

I looked into the Dutch woman’s face with tears in my eyes “Thank you ...Dank je wel" i knew a little bit of dutch " … you have been super nice …my name is Cassandra” I said sticking out my hand for her to shake.

“What can I do to help …” I asked.

What a day.

I was exhausted.

But I couldn’t sleep.

Cassandra had finally accepted the Zombies were real. We shook hands then, me smiling because of the way she pronounced “Dank je wel” and I told her my name too. I told her to go down to see Max when she asked what she could do to help, and to take from the L&F what she needed and then to search the place for useful stuff after that. So did I.

I had found a pack of fire-starters in the L&F and a quite some tampons and sanitary pads. A brand new note block. Blankets were gone. Large towels too. And flashlights, if there had ever been some in the L&F.

So I had to make due with my little dyno light. It wasn’t very powerful and the noise would drive me and others mad if I would use it to read by.

People had been wandering around, like I did. After a while I sat down at a table and started to take stock of what I had, and told all I saw to bring the stuff they found there too. Sometimes someone brought me a backpack or some bottles they had found in the trash. I didn’t know if anyone was watching the news, it seemed somehow most had drifted to the sentinels that had left with Peter.

After a while I didn’t see anyone anymore. This was ridiculous. He had set out tasks, and now no-one was checking on them. No meeting to share what was found or found out. We really had to get organized.

I made some lists of stuff we would absolutely need. I just wrote insulin on top of the health page and jumped to my feet as I realized I hadn’t seen that girl around anymore. Having had two students over the years who suffered from diabetics, I grabbed some sweets and went to the toilets. There she was, slumped down and sweaty, but still somewhat coherent. I fed her a sweet, and after a while a second one. Had a long talk with her.

I asked her why she didn’t have her pen on her. It was probably still in her pack. Which she had thrown in the face of a Zombie when she was fleeing, was what she told me. She got up, drank a lot of water when I got my rucksack and together we went upstairs. I made sure she was comfortable, handed her some sweets and told one of the others in that room to check on her once in while too. I put my rucksack beside a chair near her and sat down. Just when I dozed off, my phone buzzed.



What my daughters had told me was devastating. They were alright, as was their father, but what had been on the news had shocked them, and me.

“Ma? Ma!?” I heard sobbing sounds on the background. My daughters!

“Ja schat! Hoe gaat het met jullie?”

“Goed, we zijn thuis! Het nieuws Ma!”

“Wat, het nieuws van hier? Of bij jullie?”

“Zombies, hier ook, in Amsterdam, en in duitsland ook ergens!”*

These first words we exchanged were panicked and I took a deep breath to calm me down. I got up and walked out of the room. I told my daughters I was save. Told them to stay inside. Not to open the door for their father if he acted weird. We talked for a long time. In Amsterdam people had been gathering for a peace demo and the police had had trouble with a lot of people who had been extremely agitated and had picked fights which each and everyone around them. In Germany the same had happened, as pilgrims were gathering in Altötting for an open-air mass. That was the only indication something was going wrong before people started to hunt other people and eat them.

My other daughter came on the phone too, still sobbing a bit. I told them to fill the bathtub with water and to spread a bed-sheet or a blanket over it. I told them to get the meat out of the freezer and dry it in the oven, as long as there would be gas. I told them to dry fruits and vegetables. I told them to put it all in containers. In glasses. I told them I love them.

If I hadn’t been sitting already I would have fallen the moment I closed the phone. I leaned my head against the wall. Not able to think, feeling the loss. They were alive. But I wouldn’t be able to go home to them for a long time. If ever …

I couldn’t cry. I had done so this afternoon for quite some time. I just sat there. Long.

Then I went to look for Peter. We really had to talk.

I couldn’t find him. Nor a guard. So I set myself on the stairs.

*“Yes honey! How are you?”
“Good, we are at home. The news Ma!”
“What news, from here? Or from you?”
“Zombies, here also, in Amsterdam and in some place in Germany!”

Just a moment after the last of the Survivors -- a voluptuous woman whose breasts Max hadn't been able to keep his gaze from -- had made her way down to the Lost & Found in the B2 level, Max headed upstairs and caught sight of Peter, who was moving with purpose. If Max had known that the man was on a pussy hunt, he might not have intercepted him, but he has questions and concerns.

They talked for just a minute or two, then went their separate ways. Max wrote a simple note in large font with a marker on an 8x10 sheet of paper: Basement closed so Max can rest. Will open again in morning.

Max taped the note to the door the others had been using to descend to Max's "Underworld" -- a nickname that seemed so much more appropriate today than it ever had -- then locked it behind him as he went downstairs. In his Office, he found a stapled set of papers, put them on a clipboard, and began going through the lists of resources and services the Library had to offer the students and staff.

Max had always liked post-apocalyptic themed movies and television, some but not all of which featured Zombies. He loved "The Walking Dead" on AMC, the movies "I Am Legend" and "The Postman", and of course all three of those featuring the "Mad Max" Character.

But he never thought he'd be living one!

Once he'd helped the others find warm clothes, blankets, and personal items, Max had had a chance to think long term. Just as he thought he had a handle on what needed to be done, he turned on the Janitor's Office television again and saw the dual danger facing them: attacks by Zombies and looting by Humans.

He remembered that the last two seasons of "The Walking Dead" had been dominated not by the fight between Zombie and Human but by the fight between Human and Human, mostly over power and resources.

Was that going to happen here? Would another group of Survivors outside the Library compete with those inside the building for the resources both in and out of the fairly secure structure. Worse yet, would those already inside the Library compete with one another?

That thought, that he might need to fear those he'd been helping -- tonight, tomorrow, or at some future time -- caused a shiver to shoot up Max's spine. Max had dealt with such frightful insecurity before in Southeast Asia during his 1970s stint with the Army where sometimes men -- mostly the locals, who only wanted to see the Americans leave them be -- fought with you against the enemy one day and then the next day were fighting you instead.

Max ascended the two flights of stairs again, studied the door he'd locked, and figured out a way to slip a metal pipe through the handle to keep anyone from forcing it open from the outside. He didn't like not trusting those who in the Library. But ... he was scared.

He returned to his clipboard and began taking inventory of all the building -- and particularly the basement -- had to offer the Survivors, counting every thing from toilet paper and hand soap to flammable cleaners and potentially poisonous fluids.

Molotov cocktails, he thought.

During one of his one to one conversations with Peter, the younger man had quietly asked whether Max knew of any hidden weapons in the building. With the spate of school shootings increasing over the years, many teachers and staff were carrying guns on campus, despite it being illegal in Oregon Universities.

"Not a one," Max had answered, shaking his head. "I can't think of any weapons anywhere."

Of course, Peter and Max had only been thinking about fire arms. Now, looking around the Underworld, Max realized that there were lots of weapons, or at least there could be if anyone knew how to make them. Broom and mop handles could become spears and stakes, metal tools could become swords and daggers, wires and ropes could become snare booby traps -- a special nightmare Max recalled from the 70s -- and the variety of fluids in the Flammables Locker could become Molotov cocktails.

Max continued down his inventory list, adding those things that weren't typically on it and making notes about how he thought they could be used. Then he thought about the internet. Tomorrow, they would have to download and print every article ever written about improvised weapons.

And survival information, too. Max couldn't know it, of course, but three floors above him, Ria had just ended a call with her daughters in The Netherlands, in which she had told them how to preserve their food in case the power went out. The Library Community would need to do that, too: preserve their food.

Suddenly, Max's brain perked up. Simultaneously, he had a good thought and a bad thought. The good thought was that the vending machines in the Employee's lounge on the B1 level had just been filled the day before. The bad thought was that he needed to hide all of those chips, candy bars, bottles of soda and water and juice, and everything else. If he didn't, the others could end up fighting one another over them.

As he ascended a level, unlocked the machines, and began emptying their contents into boxes, bags, and garbage receptacles, Max could help but see the irony in what he was doing: in order to keep the others -- whom he had no reason yet to distrust -- from pillaging the Employee's Lounge, he himself was pillaging the Employee's Lounge!

It took him nearly an hour to finish, moving the containers of food and treats to locked hiding places all over the two basement levels. He left about 1 out of 10 items behind, to make the machines appear as if in need of being stocked as opposed to having been cleared out. He took the perishables -- sandwiches, yogurt, milk, and such -- to the refrigerator in his Office down a floor.

He was exhausted once he was done and returned to his Office, then a second smaller room -- once a Utility Closet -- had been converted to a sleeping area after the 1998 ice storm that had left Max stuck in the Knight for three days, unable to get to his home up the McKenzie Pass. He stripped to his underwear, laid back, and was out in just seconds.

Ria had been so nice. She took me down to the lost and found. Pointed out Max the Janitor, Max reminded me of my grandfather. I loved his wrinkled face and kind smile. He seemed nice. I poured through the lost and found material and found a few items that might be useful.

Unlike the others, I had no food or water. My backpack contained books, a calculator, pencils and pens, some chewing gums, and that was about it. My purse had my wallet (lots of money, hundreds of dollars, lots of ones, tips from the club!!), cell phone, my pills (birth control), feminine protection, tissues, that kind of stuff.

So the lost and found filled in some missing items. I found a heavy ski jacket that was so warm I could sleep in it! Plus it fit really well and I looked good in it. AWESOME! A mobile phone charger that fit my phone, a set of reading glasses, I had no clue what I could do with these but took them anyhow, a “springy” leather belt, and some really cool jewelry (earing and a necklace) and the oddest item I found in the pocket of one of the jackets was an adult toy (a battery operated dildo/vibrator). I took it … a girl can get lonely at night, you know! Anyhow I hoped all the stuff might be useful at some later time.

I went back upstairs, ate some of the vending machine food and helped fill a bunch of water bottles, someone had found 4 new recycling plastic garbage cans with lids. Each held about 40 gallons of water. We washed them out and filled them up.

Everyone else was getting ready for bed, but I’m kind of a night owl. So I got back on the internet. While filling the water cans … Everyone told me we now had plenty of water … but I was wondering was that true? I had no clue how much water would we need? So I looked it up on the internet. 8 cups of water a day was kind of the recommendation for each adult person in this area of the country. That was ½ gallon each. The 160 gallons we had in the garbage cans would last 20 people about 16 days if I did my math right. If there were 40 people in the library, it would only last 8 days! That did not seem very long. That time did not include using the water for washing or cooking … etc.

I was hoping the Army would be here in 8 days … but I had heard during earth quakes some areas it took 2 weeks before relief came. On the bright side, we were in a library, full of books. There must be books on survival in this place somewhere. I looked up the survival book locations in the library and wrote them down.

The web also told me the important things to worry about were Potable Water (we had some, check), Shelter (again we had that … but we needed to check the whole building out, and figure out additional power sources, lighting? etc), Security (check, I thought we were pretty good here. The zombie could not get past the steel doors … but all the guys seemed to be focused on this … finding weapons … I didn’t get it?) Food (I thought this was our biggest problem, the vending machine stuff just would not last, we had time … but this was a problem) and warmth (check … my jacket could keep me warm in sub-zero weather!).

I closed down the internet. I still did not want to go to sleep. I walked over to the windows on the second floor and stared out at the new world. The glare made it hard to see. So I turned off the lights. (everyone was sleeping anyhow). No one else seemed interested in watching the zombies. It was probably too awful for them. But I had not seen the zombies up close. They had. So I watched them. Wondering if I could recognize a professor … or a fellow student … or maybe see the Army coming to our rescue! The lighting was not too good outside ... just a street lamp … but I watched. I never saw a person I recoginized or any rescue teams … but did I noticed something interesting.

After eating Human flesh the zombie's started to slow down. The more Human flesh they ate, the slower or maybe dumber they became. I would need to tell the others. But tomorrow … I plugged my cell phone in and fell asleep in my jacket by the window.

After what had happened earlier Derry had finally left the study room and wandered downstairs to the main floor.This is when she had come to realize a nightmare was unfolding in front of her, people were talking about a riot, Zombies, seeing people dying right in front of them. She shook her head, ( no...no way, these people are crazy.) but as she quietly walked around she came to realize that it was true, there was Zombies outside the building.

She finally made her way over to a small crowd of people that had gathered around some tables. They were listening to one man speak, she stopped to hear what he had to say. He introduced Max, who Derry had seen a few times when she had some research to do in the library. It was good to know they were pretty secure from any attacks from the outside. The man who was doing all the talking dumped assorted food onto the table, she wasn't interested in it, so stayed where she was, while others helped themselves.

As Peter, ( Derry finally clued into his name ) continued with his speech she eyed him thinking, (he is your typical great looking guy, full of confidence well...may as well say it, he oozes sex, probably a nob to boot!) He started to talk about the lost and found, glancing around at the various people before coming to stop on her. She raised her eyebrow at the way he looked at her before adding,

"And more comfortable shoes for those of you who need them."

Derry waited for him to finish before nodding slightly thinking, (Yes, I guess I better get myself together, first off I need to get a change of cloths, these aren't going to keep me warm. After I do that I'll come back here and help with whatever needs doing, then find some place to sleep.)

When the group broke up Derry followed Max down to the lower level coming up to him. She smiled introducing herself with a slight accent;

“Hi Max, my name is Alana Brennan, but everyone calls me Derry, which means “Red” in Gaelic.” Spreading her arms out she added, “I think I need a change of cloths.”

When he pointed to the area where the lost and found items were stored, she walked over to it frowning. Rummaging through the various boxes she picked out a loose, thick tee shirt, a set of mismatched sweats, and an oversized pair of tennis shoes. Looking up at Max Derry asked;

“Are you sure it's OK for me to take all these things?”

When he nodded that it was fine she smiled and thanked him, stood there holding all the items to her chest...not knowing if she should say anything else. Finally she thanked him again,turned around and made her way to the nearest women's washroom. Slipping into one of the cubicles she stripped her dress off bundled it up before putting her new cloths on. Once done she made her way back upstairs and proceeded to help people move things around before finding a couple of cushions for herself.

Derry didn't want to sleep in the common room with the others, so made her way back to the study rooms, finding one empty she entered setting down her things before taking a chair and pushing it up against the doorknob. Putting the cushions in the corner away from the door, so no one would see her through the small window, she lay down thankful for the warm cloths she had been able to find.

As she closed her eyes she went over the events that lead to her being in the library in the first place. Last night he, Ryan had called, Derry had been happy to hear from him, was always happy to hear from him. She had asked where he had been for the last four days, he had just told her he had been busy with a new project, charming her as he always did. Not wanting to fight she had accepted his story, but never the less wondered if he was fooling around on her again. They had been seeing each other off and on for about year now and she had caught him twice.

He asked her to meet him at the Knight library just before the game started, he had some news she needed to know. She agreed to meet him in study room six. When she hung up she decided to wear that new dress she had recently bought new heels and all. But as it turned out, she shouldn't have bothered.

When they met in the small room, he told her he had met another woman and had to break up with her. Derry went into a furious fit at him, all Ryan could do was just hold her at arms length until she had worn herself out. He said he was sorry if he had hurt her and soon left the room. Derry stayed in the room for what seemed like hours, until she could pull herself together. When she left and went downstairs, that is when she found out about the riot and all the horror that went with it.

As Derry slowly drifted off to sleep, she wondered if he was still in the building or out there somewhere.....

Sunday, 8 Sep 2013: 7am

Max:

He unbarred the "Staff Only" door that led up from the basement and emerged into the main lobby of the Library. The place was like a tomb, just as a library should be. Of course, as soon as he thought tomb and remembered all of the dead outside, he cringed.

He was carrying a box full of perishable foods and drinks that he'd removed from either the fridge in the Employees' Kitchen and the vending machines in the Employees' Lounge. He made his way around all four floors, stopping at each person he found to offer them what counted for breakfast that day: a sandwich, yogurt, fruit cup, pudding, milk, juice, apple, or what ever other perishable item the kitchen or vending machines had to offer.

"Sorry," he said in response to one woman's query, "the coffee is still brewing, but I'll have it later. I hear Peter is calling a meeting for eight o'clock. Second floor."


Peter:

Peter hadn't slept well. His room in the home he shared with a number of others included a humidifier, a white noise machine, a six speed fan/heater, and a $3,000 mattress/box spring set, all of which made for a wonderful night sleep.

Last night, he had couch cushions on a carpeted floor, an Oregon Ducks stadium blanket, and a rolled up coat as a pillow. He awoke with a stiff neck, head ache, and a yearning to be massaged to a peaceful state by a beautiful, naked woman.

He also had his injury with which to deal. At the Library's main entrance the day before, that female Zombie had sunk her nails into his upper arm, then scratched down the full length of it to his elbow. It was only superficial, and he'd cleaned it well in the bathroom and wrapped it with supplies from a first aid kit. But today, it was searing with pain.

He remembered all of those movies and television shows about Zombies, and how getting clawed or bit turned you into one. Apparently -- thankfully! -- this wasn't one of those shows.

He dressed, went to the bathroom, undressed, cleaned up, changed his bandage, and headed down to the Library's lobby, bumping into Max as he emerged from the basement levels. "Can you tell everyone we're going to have a meeting at ... what time is it...? Seven-thirty? Let's make it eight, on the second floor."

After that, he made his rounds, checking on the Lookouts. He'd been very impressed with how some of the other Survivors had stepped up and volunteered to stand watch over the building. Peter himself had patrolled all four floors until after 2am, trying to keep spirits up with an occasional joke or personal inquiry of the person with whom he was checking.

"I hear there's coffee," a female voice said. Peter turned to find yet a face -- and a beautiful body -- that he didn't recognize. She told him she was one of the teachers who hadn't wanted to come out the day before. [Available character btw.] "Max said he made some downstairs. You want to help me get it?"

The two of them descended to the Employees' Kitchen and began assembling the hot pots, cups, and other things he knew the others would want. There was no milk or cream in the fridge -- Max had already taken it upstairs -- so Peter went through a door into the adjacent Employees' Lounge.

That was when he noticed it: the vending machines, which had been full the day before, were practically empty now. Max hadn't said anything to Peter about emptying them, and the janitor had only been carrying a single box so he hadn't taken the multitude of snacks upstairs. Peter assumed that Max had hidden it all: there was no damage to the machines and Peter couldn't imagine someone had been carrying hundreds of dollars in singles and quarters with them.

"Ready?" the woman asked.

The two of them ascended to the second floor with the hot pots, paper cups, and more. By the time they reached the big desks, most of the others were assembled, excluding the eight children who the female teacher said were still in a study room with her male counterpart.

"We need to talk about what has happened to us," Peter began, "and we need to talk about where we go from here."

He invited the man and woman who had spent most of the night monitoring the internet and television to catch everyone up. They told them all what they knew [OOC: see Update post]. There was a multitude of questions and comments, and things were beginning to get wild when someone asked almost in hysterics, "What're we gonna eat?"

Peter looked to Max, who inconspicuously shook his head. Peter took that to mean Don't tell them about the vending machines. Peter looked to the group and said, "No one's going to starve. We have a few items in the basement, and there's what Max just gave everyone. And..."

When he didn't finish, someone asked, "And what?"

Peter drew a deep breath. The day before, he'd told Daniel, Lee, and some of the others that he was going outside today to look for weapons. But he'd assumed that the Zombies outside would have dispersed by now, and they hadn't.

There were at least 50 Zombies milling about the building, constantly on the move looking for a way inside the building. They had stopped assaulting the main entrance -- no longer slamming their bodies into it -- but they didn't seem ready to go anywhere so long as breakfast was inside for them.

"We're going to have to go outside at some point," Peter continued. "We will need food. And weapons wouldn't hurt."

"And blankets, and pillows," someone called.

"I want to go home."

"Me, too."

"We're safer in here."

"Where's the cops?"

The group erupted into a multitude of voices talking to or over one another again. Peter tried to calm them down, and eventually -- after someone gave an eardrum shattering whistle -- they did.

"We need to be patient," Peter said. "We need to give the police and the army ... the National Guard, time to get rid of those things--"

"Zombies!" someone called out.

An animated discussion about whether "Zombies" was an appropriate term erupted, ending only when it became obvious that right or wrong, most of the Survivors were going to call the crazies "Zombies".

"We need to stay where we are for right now," Peter suggested, "And be patient, and ... well, we should get to know one another a bit, maybe. We're going to be here for a little while, and it might help if we each knew our neighbor a bit. What's your name, where're you from, what do you do ... that kind of stuff."

Peter looked around to the faces. Some seemed to agree with him, while others didn't look interested in having a Meet and Greet.

"I'll start," a teenager spoke up. "Hi, my name is Kip. I was on campus visiting my brother at his Frat and heading for the bus to go home when all of this started. I called him, my brother, but he didn't answer. My family's safe, in Junction City. I, um ... what else, Peter...? Oh, I'm a high school senior ... I am in track -- the reason I got away from the Zombies, probably -- and I ... well, that's it, I guess."

"That's good," Peter said. He looked around. "Anyone else.


If you are interested in saying something in the Meet and Greet, I am looking specifically for details that will stimulate conversation and action between the Characters. Feel free to include something from your Profile or something new, but keep it in the context of a Meet and Greet, monologue, introduction kind of situation: don't simply paste your profile here.

(OOC: This is an NPC Lookout, working under Peter, presented here just to offer "thoughts".)

Cramer Grimes:

When there was a lull in the Meet and Greet, the 32 year old with the buzzed head stood to get the last Breakfast Bar on the table and -- seeing eyes fall upon him -- smiled.

"My name is Cramer. Cramer Grimes." He was greeted with a few Hi's and Hello's. It reminded him of when he accompanied his sister to her Alcoholics Anonymous meeting on Family Night last year. "I live out by Fern Ridge, to the west of town for you who don't live 'round here."

He returned to his seat but could see that some were waiting for more.

"I'm an organic farmer," he went on, glancing at the list of not at all organic ingredients of the bar he was eating and grimacing. "I have 50 acres upon which I grow almost all of my family's own food. Chickens, rabbits, geese, goats ... corn, taters, peas and beans ... even got 5 acres of wheat and 4 acres of mixed grains. Lot's of other stuff."

He donned a solemn look, reluctantly bit into the chemical filled bar, and shifting the mouthful to one cheek finished, "No one's at home to tend the crops and livestock. My wife was with me here in town and..."

The words stuck in his throat and his eyes glazed over.

He was done.

A woman was making her introduction, explaining that she could make a banquet out of just about anything edible, the thump thump thump of a low flying helicopter overwhelmed the conversation.

Most of the Library "residents" -- as one of the Survivors called the group -- rushed for the windows looking down on the grounds and searched for the chopper. It was never visible, but the message booming from its loud speakers was clear.

"...the building you are currently within. Do not go outside. Find a safe, secure place to hide. Elements of the National Guard and local law enforcement are on the way. They will find you. In the mean time, remain indoors."

The thump thump thump began to move off, and the message began again. "To all residents. You are advised to remain inside the building you are currently within. Do not..."

As the helicopter made its way off over the campus, most of the library crowd returned to their seats while others remained at the windows discussing what had just happened.

"I think that's good advice," Peter said, thankful that he now didn't have to admit that his earlier plan to go out today and look for weapons had scared the shit out of him once he found the Zombies still outside. "Why don't we ... why don't we get back to what we were doing. Who's next?"

Derry woke up with an aching neck, ( Geezzz...I must have slept like a pretzel the way my neck feels.) she stiffly sat up trying to rub the back of her neck. Wondering what time it was she glanced at her wrist watch, 7:38 am, frowning she remembered this was the watch that Ryan had given her for her birthday. She wished she had worn her everyday watch now, but she had thought he would notice, so she put his on before leaving her place yesterday morning.

Sighing she got up and stretched her body to get all the kinks out, then went over to the door and peeked out of the small window. Since there was no one about Derry moved the chair away from the doorknob, opening the door enough so she could have a look down the hallway. That is when she saw Max about to go down the stairs to the next level.

She quickly stepped out and called his name as she walked towards him.

“Good morning Max, any news?”

She found that nothing had really changed except that there was to be a meeting at 8, on the second floor. He offered her some food from the box he was carrying on his hip. Since Derry had not eaten much since breakfast the day before she gratefully accepted his offer. Picking an apple and yogurt she smiled saying,

“Thanks Max, I will eat my breakfast and be at the meeting shortly.”

Going back to the study room, she sat down eat her breakfast then rummaged in her purse for a comb as well as her travel toothbrush and small tube of toothpaste. Now she was glad she was so fussy about her dental hygiene, she liked to clean her teeth after her midday meal. Making her way to the nearest washroom she cleaned up and set out for the second floor and the meeting. She hoped there would be some good news.

Derry was just approaching the meeting area when she saw that man Peter and a woman she had not seen yesterday carry in coffee, cups etc. She smiled at the aroma, before making her way to a vacant chair. Peter then started speaking,

“We need to talk about what has happened to us, and we need to talk about where we go from here.”

With the kind of analytical mind Derry had, she just sat back watched and listened to what was said as well as the body language. When someone cried,

“What are we gonna eat?”

She noticed Peter glance at Max, who shook his head slightly. Derry took all this in, continuing to listen as the meeting went on about how there was still Zombies outside and that they were not going anywhere soon. People got pretty excited for a short time but eventually calmed down enough that the suggestion to introduce themselves lead to a farmer talking about himself. Just as a woman had started to speak everyone turned their heads towards the sound of a helicopter and the announcement to stay indoor for the time being.

Once everyone had settled down again, Peter encouraged more people to introduce themselves.

Derry watched Peter for awhile, deciding to keep quiet for the time being thinking, ( Well, he seems to want be the leader of these people, lets just see how things progress, I hope he has the skills to keep us all in one piece until help arrives to get us out of here.)