Nighttime Jogging {Open!}

[Otis Pearson]

Zombies.

Zombies were probably the most annoying and disgusting creatures on the face of the planet. They were slow but strong with hearing like bats or cats or whatever kind of animals had super hearing. Not only that, but they were so persistent. Persistence is normally a very strong and good trait in a human being. In a zombie? It's hell. Once the things were alerted by the sound of something crashing or someone screaming, they would move like an avalanche of rotting flesh towards the noise and any subsequent noises until the source of the noise was torn to bloody shreds. The undead monsters also lacked compassion. Compassion was entirely underrated by the human race when dealing with serial killers and plain old murderers. People had always said things like, "I can't believe that man could be so soulless!" or "His heart must be charcoal black." If those people could see the zombies now... They wouldn't be able to describe them. All the things were were hunger and impulse. One false move and BAM. You were dead. If not dead, you were running for your life trying to formulate some sort of plan to distract the stupid things before they eventually caught up to you and disemboweled you in a matter of seconds.

The latter would be the situation Otis was in at the moment. He had been carefully making his way through the park when he had tripped over a fallen piece of play structure in the park. It was so dark out he had been having a hard time seeing where he was supposed to put his feet, let a lone where he was going in the first place. He hadn't meant to be alone in the middle of an open area when the darkness hit, but it had been sudden and disorienting. The wind had been picking up as well, foretelling a storm. That was why he had been caught in the park when it had suddenly become almost completely black. The clouds had moved in far faster than Otis had anticipated. He had figured it would only be a few minutes across the area, but once the clouds covered the moon and stars, Otis had had to come to a relative stop. His mistake had been getting a bit impatient and trying his luck. Turned out, he didn't have any.

His very first step sent him face first into the ground with a resounding thud. In his surprise, Otis had let out a loud yelp before making contact with the earth. Cursing himself under his breath, Otis had quickly launched himself up off the ground and sprinted towards where he was pretty sure the buildings were. The various moans of the undead and telltale sounds of their broken feet making towards his location served to speed him up even more. And his feet flew over the ground, his backpack bounced up and down, making the action of fleeing uncomfortable and more difficult than if he had been unburdened. It was a necessary difficulty, however, as his backpack contained all of his supplies that had gotten him as far as Texas. Though, if he had to lose the back, he would. It wasn't worth dying over, that was for sure.

He could hear them closing in around him, but still he continued forward. His eyes were starting to get used to the darkness. Shapes were gaining more definition, though the majority of them were zombies. Otis half wished for the blackness again, but knew that seeing them was better for his chances of survival than being blind. There were two coming up on his left, three to his right, but only one directly in front of him. Otis braced himself and barreled towards the thing, slamming into it with his elbow and knocking it over. The impact bounced Otis slightly to the right of the thing, but he managed to maintain his momentum, leaving the things behind him. There were more, of course, coming out of every crack and cranny imaginable. Otis clenched his jaw and continued. He could see it now: a fairly tall building with plenty of footholds. It was maybe three or four stories tall, more than enough to escape from the clawing hands of his pursuers. As he ran, Otis reached a hand behind him and pulled out a small plastic ziplock back of chalk. He opened it and quickly threw some on his hands, stuffing the resealed back into his jacket pocket.

More zombies were coming up the street on his right, and his left was in very much the same condition. Behind him, Otis could hear the hungry gurgles and heavy footsteps of even more undead. He didn't have time to quickly plan a route up the side of the building. He just had to go for it. With a giant leap, Otis hurled himself at the building, frantically gripping at some protruding bricks that had been placed there for the aesthetic. His chalked up fingers managed to find a hold there, and he hung on the side of the wall for a few seconds regaining his breath. He wasn't entirely out of reach yet, however, and was rudely reminded of it as he felt the wind of a hand flashing past his ankle. With that prompt to send him on his way, Otis began scaling the side of the building, slowing down once he was a story up. When he finally made it to the top, he sprawled out on the cool concrete and just lay there. Too close.

[Delainie Carthage]

[/i]. But she'd been able to sneak past them before hold up in a room, replenish supplies and move on unscathed. She wasn't one to push her luck but she definitely felt like she was able to handle herself better now than in previous weeks. There was one coming towards her. She didn't know if they could communicate or not, but it had been likely if she let this one live, it would only kill someone else later, maybe even her. She she took in her surroundings and headed towards him in a light jog. She pulled out the silenced M9 in one graceful movement and when close enough to assure she would not miss she pulled the trigger. The body fell before the infected blood began to pour out of the penny sized hole made with love.

Again she looked around. Always making sure that she didn't make more noise than she thought she did. She came to a slow and tucked the weapon back where is had come from. Was it strange that this had become something that just happened. Don't stop and push aside the mess, keeping going, leave it as a warning to the others even if they didn't understand. She doubted they did, she had dropped so many of them and they still came at her. An impossible feat for something that could understand basic signals.


She didn't find a place that seemed just right, so she continued on her way, she trusted her instincts and if they weren't happy with where she was settling then it was for a good reason. She passed by a park. These places always made her sad. So she continued forward. No time to think about anything that could slow her down, or deter her focus. That was when she noticed the horde that was in pursuit. Some of them were fast, some of them were slow. Just like people she figured, this pack seemed to be a mix which made them dangerous, there was no telling which one to kill first and which one she could outrun.

She tiptoed behind them when a few began to turn and notice the slim slipping away female. Something caught her eyes ahead of them. They usually only formed these packs when in pursuit of something, or so she knew from first hand experience. They were chasing something, someone. Some one alive, she knew the streets pretty well from her couple days spent scavenging. She knew she could cut through this Creek Rd. and end up on the other side, go around the whole horde and try to catch up to whatever they had been chasing. She turned and ran, going for it, this seemed like the right thing to do because her gut didn't tell her any different.

Feet slamming against pavement and pumping back up only to gain more distance. She curved around this small district of shops and buildings and came up on the connecting street, she search wildly for who they had been chasing hoping that they hadn't been caught. She stepped out into the street and looked to the approaching horde. She only had a few moments before she herself would become their main target, but that's when she saw the movement, the one they were chasing was scaling up a building! She looked to the horde and then back to the person. She would try to infiltrate the building and make a connection. She had to know if there were others. She hadn't seen anyone in so long that this became the right thing to do even if it was wrong.

She rushed to the base of the building and ran to the door, the front two were locked, but she figured in a panic people would be leaving out the back, she ran trailing thin fingers across the outside walls and stopped when she came onto the side with the steps that lead up to the back door, she tried to pull it and though it was stuck at first it was not locked and she was able to slip inside the dark surroundings. Now, she needed to find this other survivor. But she also had to be alert for other infected that were trapped and had died in here.

word count: 907

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[Otis Pearson]

When dealing with the undead, sound was incredibly important. It wasn't as if sound itself could save one from having one's head bashed in by a rotting fist, but it did serve as an invaluable tool when deciphering the movements of the zombies. In most cases, the things were predictable and loud. It was pretty surprising just how noisy most of the shamblers where. They took heavy breaths and moaned more often than not. These sort of audible tells made living a little bit easier, though it in no way was a fool proof way of determining danger. There were plenty of zombies that didn't seemed to find those noises necessary to existing as the others did. Otis couldn't tell if those zombies were smarter than their comrades, but they were much more dangerous. Often times a lack of sound was just as dangerous as the heavy panting and groaning of a room of rotting corpses. Thus, when Otis heard the sound of a door being pulled open and shut, he pushed himself up from the concrete and strained to hear anything more. Zombies didn't shut doors.

There was a door to the roof that was locked from the inside, a good thing when dealing with creatures that couldn't open locks. Of course, they could smash doors just fine, but again that would be noisy and give Otis plenty of time to escape. Well, assuming the horde below grew tired and shambled away. They tended to, at least they had been most every time Otis had managed to get out of their reach. The zombies weren't the most persistent group of monsters, at least not in a hunter's sense. If they could reach you through smashing or hobbling, they wouldn't stop. But as soon as you were out of their reach and no apparent way of getting to you was readily found, they sort of just lost interest. It would have been comical if they weren't abnormal monstrosities that insulted the existence of a God. Regardless of the logic behind it, that particular tendency was useful to the point of almost too convenient. Otis always made sure to make plans for if the zombies didn't leave. After all, it was always a possibility.

There weren't any other non-zombies sounds other than that blasted door. Though he was sure there wasn't going to be anything, Otis poked his head over the roof to check the back door where the sound had come from. Nothing. He sighed and rolled onto his back, staring up at the dark clouds threatening rain. The roof wasn't going to be a great place to spend the night, but unless the mysterious opener of doors happened to open up the roof-access door, he was going to have a very soggy night. For a moment, Otis considered pounding on the door and calling out to whoever had entered the building. That plan might have been a good one had Otis been absolutely sure there was nothing but a single living thing inside the building and if the building wasn't several stories high. It was too risky. Instead, Otis checked the horde again. This time, it was much smaller and much less vocal. They were starting to get bored, or whatever the equivalent of undead boredom was. He decided to wait out the rest of them for now. As curious as he was about his unexpected visitor, it could wait until the immediate threat of danger had passed. Otis rolled back onto his back and looked up at the blackened sky once more. He wished the stars were out.

-

After some time had passed, Otis checked the edge of the building once more. This time the street was empty. A wind had started blowing and Otis could taste the electricity in the air. Lightning. Fantastic. Now that nature was the only danger, Otis felt slightly more confident and he unstrapped his backpack and rubbed some more chalk on his hands. The plan was to scale back down the building and check in through the windows to see if anyone alive was still inside. He had been stretching and limbering up because it wasn't going to be that easy. The holds weren't really ideal for climbing down, but Otis was just too curious to let that stop him. As the wind began to pick up even more, he dropped himself down the side of the building feeling for the footholds with the tips of his sneakers. The going was slow but steady and soon he found himself at the first window. A quick peek inside revealed an empty room that had been overturned in the panic of the apocalypse. It looked fairly safe, but Otis knew better than to just take things at face value. He rapped on the window a couple times and was rewarded with a couple hideous, rotting faces. Otis quickly moved away from the glass as the things moved closer. Quickly as he could, Otis rounded the corner of the building so as not to be seen by the zombies. The windows wouldn't hold up against an undead assault, and Otis didn't want to make more noise than was necessary.

Fourth floor: no good. Though only two - maybe a few more - on that floor wasn't bad. Otis continued down, tapping on windows and receiving more unwanted faces. The third floor was no good either. By now, Otis was started to get tired, but wasn't too worried about his fatigue. At least, until it started raining. Once the water hit the bricks, the holds became very slippery. Otis cursed under his breath as he felt his grip starting to slide. His best bet was smashing through the second floor window and hoping for the best. As he managed to make his way to the window, he was relieved to find the glass already broken and lying all about the sill. Otis wasted no time in slipping through the opening, being careful to not get cut by the shards as he did. Once inside, Otis carefully surveyed the inside of the room. It appeared as though the building had been used as some sort of office for a smaller company. There were the little peudo-walls that acted as dividers and establishers of cubicles. Many of them were torn down, but there were enough to see what they had been used for. From the sound of it, there weren't any unwanted creatures lurking in the semi-darkness, but Otis didn't want to take chances. He was soaking wet, tired, and a little frustrated at not being able to find the source of the noise he had heard.

Against his better judgement, Otis let out a hoarse, "[color=grey

[/color]Hello?[/color]" It was quiet enough it probably wouldn't attract any nearby zombies, but loud enough anyone listening for noise might hear. Maybe he'd just imagined it. He'd been alone for awhile, so it wasn't entirely unlikely for him to start hearing what he wanted to hear. Otis slumped against the wall, rubbing a hand through his hair to remove the majority of the wet. At the very least, he wasn't going to be spending the night in the rain.

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[Delainie Carthage]

[/i] she thought and sighed while she drove the black blade under his jawline, and the walking corpse thrashed all the while, she tore it out with a twist and brought a leg up to help it one its way down. The next continued forward, only difference was this one was able to lay a hand on, the cold touch of death nearly made Delaine scream, but she gripped her teeth and finished this job in a similar fashion.

She loosened her grip on the knife handle in fear of splitting her own skin and merging blood that way. She knelt beside the first fallen and used the side of his shirt to wipe the blade clean, she would keep it out for now, knowing this was only the beginning. She hoped she had really seen someone. If this was her chasing a shadow of a bird, or her imagination, that was really going to be upsetting. She stood and headed to the stairs, from what she'd seen of the bottom floor the two permanently dead bodies were the only crew set up for her welcome party.

The blood streaked window churned her stomach and she went into the opening expecting to choke on the smell of rotting flesh and swarming flies. She was not to be disappointed for that was exactly what she had stumbled upon, she rose the back of her hand to try to cover her nose and mouth, eyes instantly blinded from the body's signal to water. She blinked away the defense, and began to try to accumulate herself so this would not weaken her, she looked up and saw quite a few flights of stairs. There didn't seem to be anything moving around, but there was an unrecognizable body torn to shreds to her right. She tried to avoid the rotting corpse. She stepped in a wide circle around it. Not even enough left to turn.

She placed a hand on the metal and pushed the door open as quietly as she could. It appeared to be an office, or what was an office, cubicles galore, automatic staplers and printers. Wonderful surviving supplies. She sighed and began to turn to continue her climb up and forget about stopping at any of the other floors when she heard something. A hello? She hadn't heard a greeting in a long time, eyes widened she turned.

"Hey!" she returned the whisper, and cautiously stepped back into the office environment. Some Christmas cactuses were dying in a teal planter to her left, and a garbage can beside it, she couldn't spot another exit, so turning around would be the best way to go if she really had just imagined or misinterpreted an infected being's grunt. It had began to rain outside, and she could hear that better than anything, there was a cool draft in this should-be-stuffy room. A window. The climber, she glanced against the windowed wall to find his point of entry.


word count: 813
ooc: I know there was a larger time lap -just had trouble finding things to kill x.x- let me know if you want the post change. :P
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[Otis Pearson]

He didn't have to wait long. Not a few moments after Otis had flicked the wet onto the ground, he heard his whisper answered by an equally muted "Hey!" He didn't respond immediately. Instead, Otis scanned the doorway and the surrounding part of the room for the source of the noise. It was more than likely his tired mind had mutated a zombie's grunt into something human. His eyes met the gaze of a woman. In that moment, she was probably the single most beautiful things, if only because of the relief Otis felt roll over him. He wasn't entirely insane. Not yet. There stood before him living proof that the world wasn't completely void of life. Not certain if she had actually seen him or just happened to be peering into the semi-darkness in his direction, Otis quickly pushed himself up off the ground to stand straight and silhouetted against the soft light of the broken window. He purposefully engaged in quick movements and maintained a proper posture. He did his very best to portray a physicality completely alien to the undead monsters that lurked in every dark corner and shadow.

There was always the possibility that the woman was mad, armed, and ready to blow Otis' head off of his shoulders. There was also the possibility she was - more or less - human and was willing to help him clear out the few shamblers that remained in the abandoned building so they might have a safe haven for the night. Otis much preferred the second option for the woman's disposition and felt like giving it a shot. After all, if she were a homicidal maniac he would have been found and destroyed eventually. It was best to just get things out and in the open. At the very least, she had a clear shot and it would be over quickly. Waving his arm as if casually greeting an old friend, Otis carefully picked his way through the mess that had once been and office. His eyes constantly scanned the room, checking for any sort of movement. The rain was starting to really come down hard and was muffling the noises of his feet on the thin carpet that covered most of the floor.

He found that though he wanted to talk with the woman, it was in his best interest to maintain silence until he was absolutely sure there was nothing in the room to disrupt them. Otis knew there were already several undead flesh-eaters on the the floors above, but for now they were up there and he was below where it was marginally safer. A slight rustling came from one of the fallen dividers near the back of the room. It was difficult to tell if it was just from the wind that was bouncing around the room from the broken windows or a bit more menacing. He did really want to find out. By that time, Otis had managed to make it over to the woman. He gave her a friendly but concerned nod towards where the noise had come from. If it was a zombie, the thing had waited quite a long time to show itself. More and more doubt rose in Otis' chest as he glared at the questionable corner. There. It rustled again just as the wind picked up once more. He let out a sigh of relief and turned to finally address the woman - the slammer of doors, no doubt - that had responded to his initial greeting.

"I'm glad you're... Not dead." It sounded a bit lame, but Otis hadn't really practiced conveying his thoughts and emotions through the medium of speech in a while. He had, however, been making use of his eyes. She was a bit shorter than he was, with dark hair, dark eyes, and unusually well kept eyebrows. Well, usual was a silly word in the context of a zombie apocalypse, but Otis still couldn't help noticing how... normal they looked. The rest of her was dirty and tired, much like Otis felt - and looked. He looked about the room a bit lamely, allowing his voice to get used to the idea of actually conversing with something. "First floor wasn't too much trouble, I hope." Now it sounded more like he was commenting on the weather or some other mundane trifle. In a way, it sort of was and everyday thing: killing zombies and running for one's life. Otis had assumed the woman had ran into the building to fulfill some sort of mission. A mission that most likely followed some sort of "rescue" agenda. Though he appreciated the effort, he certainly didn't need it. Now that she was here, however, they had a much better chance of holing up in the abandoned offices for the night without having to sleep with one eye open.

Figuring he ought to offer her some kind of recompense for risking her life to come... see him?, he added, "My name is Otis, by the way." He considered, for a moment, giving her his last name. Why? Names were almost pointless now, and last names were just extra meaningless syllables, wastes of breath and energy. Instead, he stuck his hand out in the gesture for a handshake. As his hand moved forward, he caught himself and let the appendage fall to his side. There was no need for handshakes. He gave a sort of apologetic grimace. "It's... Been awhile since I've seen anyone. I'm definitely rusty in the people department."

---

Notes! Ahaha, no no! Your post was totally fine. I wanted to allow you whatever time you needed to do whatever. I should have given you another floor. That was my bad!

[Delainie Carthage]

She stepped through the dark, keeping her eyes peeled, she scanned the shadows for the source of the noise, and landed on a man laying low. He rose, gracefully, and non aggressively, two things she hadn’t seen something do in a while. She’d never been the romantic type, but something about this heart swell she couldn’t ignore or push to the side. A relief so overwhelming she feared it may quickly slip into infatuation. She scolded herself for such an idiotic thought in a time of two humans regrouping.

Her joys flickered out when she wondered what the hell she was going to say, hey, so I saw you climb this building, and thought I would follow you up, because.... why? She wasn’t even sure. However, she did and she was thrilled to see someone else alive. Time to compare stories and try to get down to what was going on! Did he know more people? Was he going back to a group of survivors and then got cut off from his normal route? Did he know what these people were infected with? Did he know if more people were forming a safe place? She knew not to ask to many questions at first, send him running with her need to know, was not on her agenda.

He was approaching her and she maintained her still stance, she noted that he nodded to her left, she glanced a cautious nod herself in that direction, but the way she was brought up told her not to look away from him for too long. He could lounge right at her and strangle her for all she knew, but she looked back to him as he approached closer. He didn’t seem like the type to attack her, then again he did just scale a building, who knew what he was capable of.

She crinkled her nose with the hint of a smile as he spoke, ”I’m glad you’re not either,” she kept her voice low, they hadn’t been attacked yet, and usually when in a room with these things, stealth could not be used to describe them, but surviving this long in this kind of world took caution, and that was a trait that awoke quickly in her and kept her alive. ”I saw that horde chasing you past the park, and followed,I was going to cut them off through Amber and 4th and catch up to you, but when you started climbing that building” she shook her head with a brighter smile, ”I definitely didn’t expect that...” she relaxed a little, falling back into the old routine of making small chat... it came back easier than she thought.

She left her smile fade at the mention of the first floor, the distorted faces flashing back at her made her uncomfortable, ”It’s clear now,” she said with a short nod, reassuring, if that was the way he was heading there wouldn’t be any trouble. Otis. It was a pleasure. She shook the hand when it came out, the pause after the first name told her what kind of world he considered it now. ”I’m Delainie,” she shook the hand and the release came in time. ”I haven’t seen anyone either, I was starting to get a little crazy thinking I was the only one,” she blinked away the pain that being alone had brought, she’d always considered herself a loner, but now, after being alone for so long- she would reclassify that description. ”You’re doing fine,” she gave a playful shrug, ”It sure is gonna storm tonight,” she said smile fading once more as the breeze from somewhere reminded her of what was outside.
word count: 650

[Otis Pearson]

Rusty or not, it was... nice to have a conversation again. The loneliness had been taking its toll on him, and he had begun to doubt his sanity. It wasn't even so much the fact he had been alone, but rather the terrible realization that he could literally be the last human being on earth. The overwhelming emotions of fear and despair were not easily countered with fading memories of the past. True, it had only been about a month's worth of time according to the pre-apocalypse calender. Now, however, time had taken on a completely new meaning. A day was like a year here. Each one seemed to claim more and more of life, twisting it into a contorted hellhole with building cruelty. Otis had been close to succumbing to whatever madness awaited him, yet he still clung to hope. Hope that there were others, that there was a chance to fight back against the impossible presence of the undead, that somehow, someway, he could be able to once more live in the world he had lost so abruptly.

He smiled when the woman seemed to struggle for a reason as to why she had ran into the building after him. It had been a long time since the corners of his mouth had moved upwards, and it felt... strange. Good, but strange. This woman was like a breath of fresh air for his tired mind. She was so very human, it almost hurt him to speak to her. It was as if his own tainted mind would somehow corrupt her, turn her into one of them. It was completely foolish, however, as his more reasonable self understood she was most likely in a similar mental state. This conversation was not a blessing only for him, and it was evident in the way she looked at him that she was just as thankful for it as he was. She seemed to handle things a bit differently than he did, however, masking fear and confusion with humor. Normally, Otis would have found that to be obnoxious. If a person was to feel fear, that person should experience fear not cheapen it with another emotion. Now... Now it was almost a relief. It was something that was human, and he allowed himself just a little piece of it.

"I used to hike out into the mountains and free climb before..." The smile had long faded. Otis gave a little shrug instead of verbalizing what the "before" was. They both knew it all too well. It was just more water to toss onto the already dwindling coals of hope he had been desperately trying to keep alive. "Delainie." As she released his hand, he let it fall to his side. He had been searching for survivors for so long, yet now that he had finally found one, Otis had no idea what to do. It was there, in both their eyes: the sadness that accompanied the faces of those who had seen unimaginable tragedy. In some, there was wrath or insanity. Perhaps it was there, but hidden behind the sorrow. When Delainie expressed her own relief in finding another living being, he caught the slight catch in her voice, the welling gloss in her eyes she quickly blinked away. Here she was: a fellow survivor. She was not only his "fellow" in living, but in pain, fear, and... hope. At least now each was not the last of the human race.

"Crazy..." For a moment, Otis' eyes seemed to see through the woman in front of him. He gazed for a short time before continuing, his eyes once more focusing on the face in front of him, slightly shinier than before from the growing moisture. "I think I may have already succumbed to it, honestly." It wasn't really a joke, but Otis offered it up anyway. He wasn't entirely sure what sanity even was anymore, so he figured he must be crazy. It was really the only thing that made sense. Regardless of his mental state, things needed to be done, and he was going to get them done. "'Aye. The rain is almost horizontal." The wind that had seemed to pull Delainie back into the presence of reality now picked up slightly, shifting about the various papers that littered the floor. The sound was almost eerie: all the crackling and flapping of the loose pages... "We can't leave with the storm..." Otis shook his head, "But I'm not sure if it's wise to stay in here. There's still quite a few of them above us." He hadn't really been too keen on scoping out the upper levels once he realized the person he had been looking for wasn't in them... But now Otis sort of regretted it. He knew the upper levels were occupied, but he couldn't even guess at the numbers. For all he knew, there were anywhere from two to fifty-two of them on the top floor. It was incredibly risky to try to clean them out, especially when it meant killing them. He could if he had to, but... It was hard. To Otis, the things were still human... almost. The creatures had had families... Lives... He couldn't just ignore it. It was completely irrational and sentimental, but Otis clung to it. Perhaps it made him feel more human: pitying those that had lost their own humanity. Or, perhaps, it was just his insanity.

"It's up to you." It wasn't so much Otis didn't care, rather he just didn't know what to do. The current floor they were on might be safe enough for the night if they blocked the broken windows... However there were quite a few of them and the room was very quickly getting soaked. The two floors above them didn't seem to have any broken windows - at least on the side he had scaled down -, but they definitely had creatures. The first floor... She had said it was clear now, but ground level rooms were always the most dangerous. Thus, Otis left the decision up to her. In a way, it was like flipping a coin. He had no idea what kind of person Delainie was. But for now, he would submit himself to her decision. After all, he was too tired to truly think for himself at the moment.