Bricktown Sightseeing (Open)

[Steve DeMott]

Panting, Steve sat down on the roof of the Chickasaw Ballpark. He had made his way down Interstate 235 by way of motorcycle when it began to sputter.

By luck he found himself in the middle of Bricktown Oklahoma City. In this particular area he spotted a Hampton Inn, a bar not too far away, and quite a few restaurants. But the bad part was this area was infested with Zeds everywhere. It could be possibly due to the convention center due west of where he was.

Steve brought his rifle up to his shoulder and scoped south of his position, the only thing he see's is just a few more restaurants and what looks like a movie theater.

"Going to have to thin the ranks or something if I want to have any chance of getting off this fuckin' roof." He says to himself with concern on his face. He walks over to his assault bag and picks out a bottle of water, only 2 bottles left. He takes a few sips and puts it back.

He walks to the edge of the roof and looks down. He spots only 15-20 directly below, but just west on the road he spots at least 30 more heading his way. He needs to get off the roof, being trapped is the last thing he needs. He then spots a car about a quarter of a mile west that he really likes, an orange 1969 Pontiac GTO. He grabs his assault back and slings it back on, gets in the prone position and shoulders his rifle. Peering through the scope he takes careful aim at Zed's head. Takes 2 deep breaths, on the last exhale he slowly squeezes the trigger.

BLAM!!! The rifle roars as a bullet blows the Zed's head to a pink and viscous mist. He takes out 7 more before he jumps off the the top roof, lands on a slightly lower roof. He slings his rifle and pulls out his M9, jumps off this roof and on the ground. He runs at half a pace, knowing these knucklehead Zed's are too stupid to catch him and starts jogging his way towards the car.

He opens the door to the car and begins to frantically search for the keys, he opens the glove compartment, the visors, even the ash tray, but no keys. He stood up and looked around his setting, the Zeds were beginning to close in. He looked around for a place to hide and saw a building called "Boone Well's Fargo" and ran for the building.

Instead of going inside he placed his M9 back into his holster jumped next to the wall and grabbed the ledge of the roof and hoisted himself up. He tossed his assault pack to his side, unslung his rifle and placed it on the assault pack and collapsed on his back.

"FUCK!!!" He yelled out loud. Today just wasn't his day. Steve gets up and walks over to his assault pack to see how much food and water are remaining. He counts 3 full MRE's and 2 full bottles of water. The MRE's he wants to save for when he really needs them, only because he hates MRE's. As for water, he needs to find some more soon.

Steve puts everything back in his bag and zips it up. He checks his watch, 1600 it says. Going to be dark soon. He notices a Starbucks across the street.

"Guess I'll make camp here on this roof, and depending on the crowd, I'll go to Starbucks to get some more water." And with that he began to set up a small camp.

[Thyra Henriksen]

<sub>Thyra had lost count of the days. She had lost count of the cities she had visited. She was completely lost on data. This never happened. Never. But it had been so chaotic the last week or so that she had lost the comprehensive list she kept stored in her head of what and when she did things. She had attempted the night before to list everything off in order, but had failed horribly and simply began jumbling up the order. This, to her, was not acceptable, and so she began in search of a place where she could simply relax and trace her steps on a map.

This, of course, was not her lucky day. As she arrived at her next destination she found herself in a rather more crowded area than she would like. See, Thyra had stuck to the shadows, stuck to heights, and ledges to keep herself hidden. She had always (if you discount her first day of the outbreak) gotten away completely unscathed because of that exact strategy, which in and of itself was fairly impressive, as she was not the most coordinated of people. This was a new challenge. See, as she edged against a wall, as she did when she was turning a corner on the ground, and peered around she saw the convention center. It was crawling with walkers. More than she had seen in a long time. She wasn't sure if it was because the convention center had probably been used as an emergency center when the virus hit, and was simply overrun, or if it were simply her perception, since she had more or less avoided the living dead and seeing any significant amount was shocking. Regardless, she took a deep breath and skittered back behind the corner whence she came. Her eyes darted down what she found to be called Reno Avenue. There were many more that way, and one nearly spotted her, only missing her as she darted out of sight behind a smashed car next to her.

Ok, so maybe coming here wasn't exactly thought out. Where had her mind gone in the last week? she nearly shuddered at the thought of losing her focus and logical thinking. She couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't. So with no options to climb the rooftops nearby, she slinked from the cover of one car to the other, narrowly avoiding being seen or heard by any of the walkers.
Of course, that didn't matter much. She heard a loud bang, and their attention was diverted anyway. Seven, maybe eight shots were heard. The zombies began to move in the direction of the sound. The ones from the convention center moved in her direction. She couldn't go back for cover... they would see her. She had to move forward, and until she heard a loud "FUCK!!!"</sub>[/color] that was all she could think of. Now, she grew curious. Was the person making such noise aware that he was compromising his safety? was he truly in trouble and didn't care? It was not logical for her to seek out the noise, and in a million years she would never have done it, did she have a choice. As it were, the noise was ahead of her, and she could move no where else... plus, she was curious. Curiosity was her bane.

So she moved slowly but surely toward it. She was unaware of which building it came from, and that, indeed, was irrelevant, when she finally was spotted by a walker, half of whose jaw was missing, and several stabbing and gunshot wounds indicated someone had failed in their task to kill it before it killed them. It groaned, making several others turn and begin their pursuit of her. Mind racing, she made her way on top of an orange pontiac, getting a view of where to go, spotting a well's fargo and a path through the madness to get to the roof.

So she ran. It was no use hiding now. They knew she was there. She ran until she reached the building, gripping a drain pipe and climbing a couple of feet before her ankle was grabbed, pulling her onto the asphalt and sprawling on the ground. There, she did not hesitate to grip her sword, and as she dramatically jumped from the ground, she drew it, severing the fumbling arm of the zombie attempting to eat her. Freed, she began climbing again, making it to the roof, only to be stunned by the sight of another human. He was alive, she could tell.. not of the living dead. Her sword still in hand, she breathed heavily, catching her breath, and finally spoke: "did anyone tell you that yelling is not only rude, but.. well.. loud?"[/color] She would have given a smile to not seem threatening, if it weren't for the fact that she was much too exhausted and prepared for the worst to even care.

Note: I am supremely sorry for the length. I got carried away. It took a lot of willpower to find a way to stop writing.
See? I'm still doing it. This note may go on for ever.........

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