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[Zako]

Stupid internet, keeps going out. 

Challenge 1: Is it based on London?

And the lenses dont really get dust in them. I use them after all!

They can be worn for about 12 hours, and 4 out of 7 days a week. They come in a preserving liquid that can't be reused. If he isn't wearing lenses, he is wearing glasses, and both negate the eyesight failure but give no bonus other than that. The lenses take about 2-3 minutes to put in.

[rickvoid]

Stupid internet, keeps going out. 

Challenge 1: Is it based on London?

And the lenses dont really get dust in them. I use them after all!

They can be worn for about 12 hours, and 4 out of 7 days a week. They come in a preserving liquid that can't be reused.

(More info later!)

Oooh, hadn't thought of that, need to guess more cities with rivers running through them.

And I won't be taking that car. Cars are death. They will always run out of gas right when we're in the middle of a pack of zombies. Oh, and the pack mules. I'd definitely distribute stuff among the group, especially if it means my happy ass has to lug less stuff. Although I am hesitant to give all our water to the girl. She could panic and drop it, though I suppose any of us could do that. Ah well.
And if she tries to give me any lip about looting her and her neighbors houses, I'll quote a little modified Clint at her: "There are two kinds on people in this world; those who have guns, and those who search. You search."
 

And stream of consciousness is the form you used to write my story, but I don't think that's what you're looking for. I have no idea.

*Note* I am a little buzzed right now, I'll probably look at this in the morning and go "What the hell was I saying?" 

[Frelock]

A bike is good for mid-distance travel (1-5km), but not neccessary for a single block.  I walk, quietly.

London is certainly a good guess.  But it doesn't have farms surrounding it, does it?

Also, looking at the satellite map of London, the Themes runs east-west, not north-south.

As a WAG (wild-arse-guess) I'm going to say St. Louis.

As to the literary device, I think you may be right with stream of consciousness, Rickvoid; after all, the substitution of Briney for Brisk would not happen for a omnipotent 3rd person narrator (unless said narrator was also weak in foreign languages )

[Zako]

If you looked at the map, you would know that there are farms here too.

Im sticking with london.

[Zako]

Woops! Misread that! Still, its london or Paris, either one.

Bump, what happened to Friday's update?

[Strife26]

As to the literary device, I think you may be right with stream of consciousness, Rickvoid; after all, the substitution of Briney for Brisk would not happen for a omnipotent 3rd person narrator (unless said narrator was also weak in foreign languages )

He is Frelock, he is. I know enough of any foriegn language to get by though, with being able to speak a bit of Spainish and I can say 'I'm an American' in German. I took a class on Russian in the fifth grade. Not that I remember a thing about it now. My one phrase of Russain would (should) get me shot . . .

The writting is going slow right now (it took me over two hours to write Rickvoid's turn :\ I hope that it is enjoyed).

What is it called when a character uses a word like Briney instead of Brisk? There is a fancy name for it.


As far as the city goes, good guesses (esp. London, never thought of it) but all wrong.

Here's some more help.
It is an American City.
Other than the river, it is not near any major body of water.
It is not a state capital, although it is a majpr city in its state.
The River flows NORTH!!!!!
      There aren't all that many American Rivers that flow norht. I can only thin of two actually.

I'll post more hints for both challenges once the turns are done. Niether is ment to be easy.
BTW there will be an easier one after this turn too!

[Zako]

Hope the turn is good...

and im now stumped by the city.

[Strife26]

Judgment Decision of Strife: At least for this turn, I’ll be writing entirely in stream of consciousness format. This will help reassert the first person nature of our story. I am going to try to make the format a little less noticeable than I did with Rickvoid in the first turn. If there are any comments about it, please post! Also, Zako’s turn will be posted last, because he doubted that I’d post now.  Sorry, but it lets me have an order to stick to.

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

We search Clarice's house for any more bags we can find. Backpacks, that sort of thing. If we find any, I distribute the food from my duffel (which I'll go back and get while they ransack the place) fairly evenly (I'll take the short end of the stick if necessary). Jon gets my 9mm ammo and the XD, I'll keep the AR. Clarice can carry the water and in general stay the hell out of the way. If you feel like writing it out we'll search the homes of some of her neighbors too. (Who knows, maybe we'll get lucky and find more shells...)

The Turn of Rickvoid
   Starting several hours earlier . . .
Rick looked down at what once what a zombie, and a person before that. The head had been almost completely obliterated by the blast. Blood had splattered everywhere with the destruction of the head. It looked darker then blood should have been (not that Rick had seen all that many shotgun caused decapitations). Additional blood trickled from the zombie’s trunk.
   The girl that Rick and his new companion had saved slowly turned around, having jumped out of the way earlier. When she saw the zombie she, predictably, screamed. Rick did some quick estimation and math and calculated that, in the last ten minutes, she had spent at least seven of them screaming. Rick wondered if she didn’t need to breathe. The girl swooned, and fell. The other guy caught her. Thankful for a semi-competent companion, Rick asked, “Shall we move to the kitchen?”
   “Sounds good, will you give me a hand with her? My name’s Jon by the way.”
   “Rick.”
   Together, the two were able to carry the damsel in distress to the kitchen and plop her into a chair. She nearly fell out, but Rick managed to stop her. The last thing Rick needed was another body that might get up. Or an unconscious survivor. Fortunately, the water was still working here; Jon got found a couple of glasses and filled them up. “Thirsty Rick?”
   Rick took the glass and took a sip. He promptly spat the stuff up, “What the bloody hell? This water tastes like shit!”
   “There isn’t any city water this far south. All the houses run off of wells. There’s a lot of iron in it, but it won’t kill you, I think,” While he was giving the lecture, Rick was carefully trying to poor a bit of water down the girl’s lips.
   She coughed for a bit, and then opened her eyes. Surprisingly, the first thing she did was not scream. Rick was silently thankful. She looked around dazedly. Jon calmly told her, “you’ve had a major shock, but I’m here to help. Just answer my questions. What is your name?”
   “It’s Clareice.”
   Rick decided to butt in, “Do you have any guns here?”
   “Huh . . . Where, where am I?”
   Jon shot Rick an angry glance and mouthed, “Not now.” Talking to Clareice again, “You’re safe Clareice. We saved you life. My name is Jon. What do you remember, Clareice?”
   I was staying with my uncle, and he got bitten by a strange squirrel. Then he got delusional and started bleeding. I tried to take care of him. But, then he started moaning And Then. Oh my god . . . He, he’s dead? You killed him?”
   Jon quietly said, “We didn’t have a choice Clareice. You’re uncle was already dead. He would have killed you too.”
   Very shaken, but unharmed, Clareice was adamant about getting to safety as soon as possible. She came up with a plan to take her Uncle’s car and get to the airport. “I’m sure that they are fine up there. They probably just lost their transmitter rewriter thing. I mean, you two had no problems with that zombie, right?”
   Rick did of course, have other plans. “Cars are a deathtrap right now. I lost most of my stuff while I was running here, so I have to go get it. I need you two to search this one and the nearby houses for some decent bags. I don’t want to abandon any of my bullets when I get them back. That leaves you two to carry the food and stuff; it shouldn’t be too bad though, a gallon of water and a couple of MRE’s each.
   “Be sure to grab anything that might be useful, we don’t need anymore food or water, but be sure to grab any ammunition or guns. Jon, here’s my Springfield. Be careful with the thing, neh? Do you think that you could work it?”
   It only took a couple of minutes for Rick to familiarize Jon in the operation of the handgun (I’ve decided that double skilled in a weapon will allow others to be taught by your character. Jon has gained basic skills for the Springfield 9mm!!). He was a quick study; he should be fine in an emergency. There was no substitute for hours of practice and boxes of rounds, but it would do.
   Clareice wasn’t the happiest about the arrangement, but it looked like she would go with it for now. Rick hoped that she would be able to carry her weight. He fully intended to get everyone out alive.
   
   Rick walked out of the warmly light house, back into the darkness. The closest streetlight was a couple of houses down. Being not an idiot, Rick stood on the step for a minute, letting his eyes adjust. Then he walked in the direction of the spot where he believed to have left his bags. He crept over there, remarking how much easier it was o move with a light (and balanced) load. The moon was still bright, no sign of clouds. Rick approached the long grass where he had fallen. He could clearly see where he had tripped; it looked like there had been a little hole that he had stepped in. The long grass was trampled where he had rolled.
   There was a large patch of trampling where he had stopped, and then dashed off. His bags weren’t there. Looking closely, he could see another path in the weeds. Someone had come later and dragged the bags away. Another survivor? Rick followed the path, moving carefully with his rifle raised. The long grass turned into a thick windbreak, a double line of trees with a thick bush system on Rick’s side. Rick couldn’t see what was on the other side of the bushes. He carefully pushed his way through. It was thicker than he thought. About three feet of poking later, Rick was through . . .
   The first thing he saw was the zombie. There was another (corpse, zombie, person?) lying on the ground nearby. The corpse had clearly been savaged; most of its chest had been torn away. Inconveniently, Rick chose that moment to step on a stick. The zombie started lumbering towards him, seemingly still hungry.
   Rick tried to bring his rifle to bear, but it got stuck in the entangling foliage. It hadn’t seemed that bad before; now it might kill him. With a curse, Rick wrenched his weapon free, took aim, and fired. At a range of less than ten yards, he could hardly miss. The shot was dead on, striking the zombie about in the collarbone. The shot whizzed through the creature, it seemed that zombie bodies had very little stopping power. The next bullet went straight through the head.
   Rick, after carefully nudging the zombie with his foot, walked over to the body. He had once been clothed in some kind of Battle Dress Uniform. It didn’t quite look army, more like the kind that hunters wore. When Rick got closer, he stirred. The hunters eyes were bright red, and foam throthed at his lips. His chest wound was darker then it should have been, and wasn’t bleeding much. Rick asked, in a firm voice “Can you understand me?”
   The hunter moaned and tried to get up, showing no sign of intelligence. Rick made a decision. He blew the zombie’s head off from the distance of less than a yard. Rick’s bags were close at hand, and thankfully, weren’t all that blood spattered. About two feet away from the hunter’s body, Rick found another shotgun, unlike Jon’s, this one was a pump. It had three rounds of double ought buck inside. Searching the hunter, Rick found three slug shells in a pocket.
   Rick emptied the shotgun easily (Skilled: Guns) and stuffed it into his duffel. He supposed that if he tripped again, it would hit pretty hard. He didn’t want the thing to go off. Collecting his things (the hunter didn’t have anything of use) Rick trudged back of to Clareice’s house. When he got there, and opened the door, He found Jon, with pistol drawn crouched behind the upturned kitchen table. Clareice, at his side, was holding a Louville Slugger with a couple of nails in it.
   They had apparently spooked when they had heard the gunshots. Before that however, they had found a decent pair of backpacks, he baseball bat, and a couple of nails and a hammer. Jon had made the judgment decision to get Clareice a weapon. Jon figured that they had pretty much found everything in the house, although they had never gotten to the others. They both wanted to know what to do next.


NOTE: It’s a fair way to the city from here, a couple of miles (there is a bike path). As for looting, if you decide to continue, you should decide if you want to loot the nearby ones or search for likely candidates for good things. Do you want to search thoroughly or go through fast? There might be something important happening here in the next couple of turns too . . .
Or I could be full of elvish propaganda. Getting the bags was easy, right?

Zako

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Zak peered over the window sill again to ascertain that the zombie was dead. It was. Thinking about what he still had to do, he figured that his first order of business was to further secure his position. Taking the extra wardrobe, Zak set to work with his crowbar. The wood wasn’t the newest, but it seemed sturdy enough. He bent the first couple of nails that he removed up to the point of unusable, but quickly learned to be more careful (Zak has become a novice carpenter!). With some new boards and more importantly, nails, Zak moved off to reinforce the weaker windows. The one that had been attacked had been severely damaged. A couple of nails later, and it was up to snuff. The wardrobe hadn’t provided much in the way of material. Zak was still able to strengthen some of the weaker points. There was not a hell of a lot of furniture left in the house.
   Thinking about it, there were still options. There had been two beds upstairs. Zak would have preferred to keep one for his own use, but he didn’t need the frame. He could take apart the two bed frames and use that meager wood source too. Other than that though, he could try to disconnect the washer and dryer but wasn’t sure if he had the tools or could even move the things. Zak’s mind flashed to inane solutions like tearing out the sink, but destroying the plumbing (which might provide water for a couple of days anyway) might be a bad idea. He decided to go on to another project. “My old nemesis, mister radio, we meet again.”
   After fiddling around with the infernal contraption for a bit more, Zak got frustrated. Why wouldn’t it work? He had taken the entire thing apart, and all of the wires seemed to be connected right (he had found some paper and written down where they had started so he knew that he hadn’t messed anything up, Smart). A little later, Zak had a hunch. One of the first things that he had done was to replace the batteries. Zak wondered if the batteries that he pulled out of his junk draw might have been bad too. He searched for a while and found another set. Zak put them in carefully.
   The radio still didn’t work. Zak gave it up as lost. He figured that his next project should be his entrance (he did not want to move that couch to go out his front door) ladder. The rope ladder was surprisingly strong. It was easily long enough to reach the ground from a second floor window. Zak carefully set it up in his room. Unfortunately, he was out of nails. He ended up putting a leg of the bed through the top rung. He worried about it breaking, but it would have to do.
   Zak took a moment to look out of his window. It was pretty dark outside, but it felt like it would be dawn soon. Zak thought about his city. It had never seemed like all that big of a deal, but now it seemed so precious. Before all order had broken down, there rumors that it was some foreign or terrorist attack that had caused all of this. If it was true, Zak silently swore that he would pay the fuckers back.
   Zak’s vendetta was interrupted by a shout, someone was calling for help. Zak unsoldered his rifle (which he didn’t put down anymore) and rushed to his window. There was a figure running down the street. He wasn’t shambling, it was a human! Zak shouted, “OVER HERE!!” As two zombies rounded a corner and chased after the poor sap.
   The man had white hair, but he was really booking it. Zak wasn’t sure weather or not he would make it to the ladder. Resolving to save him, Zak attempted to gun down the zombies. Without quite the deftness that he had shown the last time, Zak prepared to fire. He shot the trailing of the two zombies. It spun around, and flopped over.
   Seemingly confused, the second zombie turned and looked at its companion. The old man rapidly gained distance. The shot zombie stiffly got to its feet again and started hobbling. Zak seems to have damaged its leg badly. The unhurt one charges again. The old man loses steam and slows down, although he is still going at a fair pace. The unhurt zombie gains quickly though. The old man reaches the ladder and starts to climb. He has gotten about a foot and a half when the zombie catches up. In a desperate burst of energy, he takes a couple of extra rungs. Zak shouts, “LEAN LEFT!”
   With his entire upper body out of the window, Zak points the gun straight down and fires. The survivor leaned out of the way, giving him a clear shot. He nearly loses his balance and falls, but saves himself. The zombie collapses. The man climbs a couple of additional rungs when the zombie starts moving. Zak’s bullet had smashed through the zombie’s right arm and leg. With its uninjured arm, it was grabbing the ladder, either trying to pull itself up, or its prey down.
   Zak heard a very loud creak from behind him. The bed! It sounded like the rung that was holding the ladder (and survivor, and zombie) might be about to collapse. Zak grabs the two ropes where they run over the window sill. If he can take the weight off or the top ladder run, there might still be a chance (Smart). He lifts with all his might. The rope cuts his hand, but he isn’t going to give up (tough). The old man scampers over the ledge.
   The old man is white haired, with a short white beard. His is dressed in jeans and a button down flannel shirt. He quickly assesses the situation. He picks up the rifle, which Zak had dropped and figures it out. Zak continues to strain against the zombie, a strange tug-of-war. The old man asks, “Where’s the ammo, son?!”
   Zak manages to grasp out, “Right pants pocket.”
   Conventions and normal rules of politeness tend to get ruined in a zombie apocalypse. The old man reached into Zak’s pocket and pulled out a couple of shells. His hands fumble with the gun for a bit, but he gets it loaded. He leans out of the window and fires. The pulling does not stop. He has clearly missed. You grunt with exhaustion. The old man says, “Damnit.”
   He reloads, a bit faster this time. He aims and fires. The straining thankfully stops. He had already loaded the rifle by the time Zak turned to face him again. The man hands the rifle back to Zak and holds out his hand saying, “George, pleased to meet you”
   “Enchanted, Zak.”
   The hobbling zombie continues to get closer. Zak waits until it is just at the ladder to fire. Despite the head bobbing that the shambling zombie had going, the first shot takes it through the head, it falls and doesn’t move.
   Zak and George talk for a while. George was once a sailor and an electrician. The two carefully learn to each reload the rifle. George doesn’t have many supplies, but did have a nice multitool, an orange, a roll of duct tape, and some fishing line. The two eat some of the food and drink some of the (thankfully still working) house water.
   George’s watch says 7:35. The sun is rising. 

Vaiolis

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Markov downs the last of his coffee and heads out. He has decided that he will push on to the big apartment and see if he can’t find anything useful, or anything valuable. Markov thought about everything that he could do. If he could clear the entire apartment building (it’d take awhile, but he could do) he could store so much luxury stuff there. Even with the first two floors completely barricaded, he would have more space then he could possibly need. With everyone dead, he could steal whatever he wanted. Markov saw a future of living in the lap of luxury, all based off of the death of others . . .
Markov wondered a bit about the sun, his watch said that it was about seven, but dawn should defiantly be breaking by then. It didn’t feel like he had been out for over four hours either. Markov occasionally lost his sense of time when he was ‘working’ but never to this extent. It was probably a good thing in the end; Markov was as at home in the dark as these zombies.
It was only about two blocks to the apartment from the construction site. Markov didn’t see, hear, or sense anything as he moved on. He found a zombie standing right at the door to the apartment building. He had scoped out the building a couple of months earlier, no real lobby at all. There was this one door, then there was the building managers office on one side, and a little reception window on the other. The rest of the first floor was taken up by the community area (there was a little pool and a couple of tables), storage, and some utilities.
Markov couldn’t get into the building without dealing with the zombie. Markov turned around, went back a bit, and looped around. Coming to the zombie from mostly behind, Markov snuck up and tried out his second favorite killing strike. The steel blade went upwards through the back of the skull. Markov felt the zombie go limp and withdrew his blade. Blood flowed out, but Markov had stepped back quickly and avoided getting any more on him, although his blade was now coated. The zombie fell to the pavement with a load thump.
Markov realized that he would need to be more careful about killing these things. With the noise that that one had made falling, he might as well be wearing neon pink instead of black. It might mean getting more blood on him, but dried blood wasn’t much different than black. Markov attempted to clean his knife on the zombie’s clothes again, without much success.
The door was a thick affair. Markov knew a fair bit about doors, and this one might be tough. It had key holes for a normal lock and for a deadbolt, plus, Markov saw the outside fittings for a pair of chain locks. Relying upon years of experience, Markov used an ancient method of getting into door such as this one. He turned the handle and pulled. The best locks in the world were nothing but scrap if they weren’t used.
The door to the secretary/receptionists office was open. There was a large blood spot on the floor, by an overturned chair. Markov doubted that there would be anything there. Instead, he turned his attention to the manager office. This door was actually locked, it seemed. Felt like a single deadbolt. It was of nice make too and took Markov 15 nerve wracking minutes to open.
The office and connected living area were empty of life (and unlife). In special clips, underneath the desk, Markov found a sawed off shotgun. He wasn’t really sure how these things worked, and anyway, there were no (rounds?) to be found. It fit in the satchel though, so Markov grabbed it anyway. Filing through the files, Markov found a folder marked ‘Rent Money- In Advance, December’ inside was 600 dollars. Cold Cash. Markov also found a couple of granola bars and another bottle of water. He was getting pretty hungry, and ate two of the bars and half of the water. He also found a little desk clock that read 6:38. His watch still said 7:00. Angrily, Markov wound his watch.
A search of the first floor found nothing particularly useful, although a motorized floor sweeper might have possibilities. He killed another zombie by the pool and narrowly avoided dropping it into the water. This zombie was in better shape, having a semi-clean handkerchief in its pocket, Markov moved back to the office, sat on the little couch and pondered his next move. He could search the next couple of floors or possibly go home. He supposed that he could barricade the area to, but a thief’s life came from movement and surprise . . .

Frelock
Enjoy the Suprise!

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

          Dmitri woke up at 4:30 sharp, as was his custom. He had always liked to be able to linger over a cup of tea in the morning before getting to school and working on lesson plans. Now that the end of the world was in full swing, Dmitri decided that he’d have to go where he spent the most time, back to school. Dmitri had a bit of his perishable food, and drank his last teabag. Deciding to leave most of his things at his house, he left in the early hours of the morning.
   Moving at a good pace, Dmitri quickly covered the one and a half blocks to the high school. There weren’t any zombies on the way. The high school itself had three different parking lots a small north one, the large south one, and a teacher parking lot to the east. The teacher’s lot was pretty much deserted, although there was a couple of cars and the beginnings of the construction class’s shed project, nothing more than wooden foundations now.
   Most of the south lot was blocked by the school, and Dmitri decided that he wouldn’t go over to look. He could see three shambling figures in the north lot, not particularly close to each other or to him. He unlocked one of the teacher doors and went inside. The door led into the math department (I might draw up a map so that this is easier to understand). Doubting that they’d be anything useful there, Dmitri made his way through the school. The lights still seemed to be working, but were on there dim nighttime setting. He made his way down the long, broad, hallways, past the library, and to the counseling center.
   It was fortunately unlocked. The school resource officer had had his office here. He had been a nice guy, happy to be taken off of a normal cop’s beat for the regular school hours. Perhaps he had left something useful in his office? It wasn’t a huge room, just a desk with a couple of chairs and then some cabinets. The walls were decorated with a diploma, a couple of generic posters, and some police tape. Unfortunately, there didn’t seem to be any guns in the area. Dmitri did find a master set of keys on the desk (his wouldn’t have worked in some parts of the school).
   Slightly annoyed at the lack of a weapon, Dmitri leaned against a wall to survey the room; he had to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. As he leaned back against the wall, he felt it shift behind him?! Whirling around, he saw that there was a wall planner the rotated around. Opening the secret spot, Dmitri found a big sign that said, FOR EMERGENCY USE ONLY!! There was a big, black, dangerous looking assault rifle there. Dmitri didn’t know what kind it was, or how to use it, but it came with an instruction book. However, the instructions were printed in German. There were some helpful pictures though, and Dmitri spent a couple of minutes familiarizing himself with the weapon, there were two clips with 20 rounds each. It was heavy, but he would be able to manage. Additionally, there was a small box filled with helpful things, a magnesium starter block (with English instructions), an emergency blanket, half a gallon of water, and Holy Shit, a flash-bang!!
DMITRI HAS FOUND AN EASTER EGG!! ~EMERGENCY SCHOOL SUPPLIES!
   Having a bit of difficulty carrying his new-found toys, Dmitri searched the office a bit more and found a Go Army Tote bag. With the machine gun slung over his shoulder, the former teacher gathered up his stuff and left. He walked the entire length of the school (no zombie anywhere) and made his way to the drama department. If memory served, the grounds crew stored all their stuff right by the outside of the drama department.
   Dmitri noticed with happiness that he had found a very good spot to barricade. The hallway was solid brick, and was not all that wide. The door that led outside was a bit worse, made of glass, but there was a lot of stuff laying around for Dmitri’s use. All of the music rooms were filled with chairs and stands. Inside the main drama room, Dmitri found a perfect area for an inner defense. The door to the room looked big and strong, plus there were a bunch of benches on wheels that he could roll there. Then, there was a staircase that led to a little balcony that had its own chairs and a couch! A big garage door led to the stage, but Dmitri doubted that it would be easy to break. Dmitri saw definite possibilities here . . .
   Focusing on finding a mode of transportation, Dmitri headed outside. The shack was right over there, there was a zombie out in the football field, quite far away. Inside, Dmitri found the jackpot, an all purpose cart with a trailer attached. The keys were in the ignition and it looked like it could carry a fair bit of stuff. However, if Dmitri remembered correctly, the thing made as much noise as a pack of freshmen. It would almost certainly attract some of the nearby zombies if he was to fire it up. He doubted that he’d find anything else around here, though.

Silu
The next challenge takes place in this turn. It is split up into two spiolers. Read the second one for the challenge, that way, you won't be metagaming!

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

   Jacob decided that he would have to make his way to the hotel. Breaking the stick off of his binoculars (they were a bit to small for his hand, but he would make do), he gathered his things, checked his pistol, and left. The three zombies that had harassed him before were shambling about in the other direction, He considered popping them, but decided that it would be too risky and loud. He could kill the first one easily (skilled: handgun), but then the second and third would charge. It would make killing them difficult, and he didn’t have all that many bullets. No, engaging would be a mistake.
   Jacob made his way to the busy street that separated his former home and the hotel. It was, of course deserted. Strangely, there weren’t even any cars stuck there, the city had died in an orderly manner. He crossed the street, jaywalking. There were a couple of more zombies by a nearby restaurant. The windows of the place were shot out. More figure lurched around in side of it. Jacob hadn’t been feeling like Mexican food anyway. He quickly moved inside of the hotel. The lobby was deserted, although there had clearly been a struggle here. There was one body lying on the ground, it seemed that someone had removed the zombie’s head from its body (?). A fair number of blood pools showed that humans had been killed here too. He moved over to the main desk and, in a clearly marked draw, found a master key and a master card key. He also noticed a couple of bullet hole in the desk.
   Jacob made a quick survey of the first floor. Everything was deserted, but Jacob found some non-perishable food at the continental breakfast station (two small bowls of sugar-cereal, a package of oatmeal, a handful of tea bags, and a couple of sweeteners). The pool reflected creepy colors over everything. Jacob shivered for no real reason; his hair was standing on end. There were no signs of life anywhere on the first floor, other than occasional blood stains.
   Jacob found a staircase (never use elevators in an emergency!) and climbed to the second, out of two, floor. He could hear moaning coming from about where his target room was. Even through the murky darkness (only a few of the lights were on) Jacob could see four or five zombies bashing at a solid door. Jacob crept closer.
   Intent on their task, the zombies didn’t notice as he carefully lined up his sight picture, right on the head of the closest enemy. Hopefully, as this one fell, it would trip up the others. However, Jacob was still damned close to the things. He’d have to shoot fast once he revealed himself, lest he be overrun. The survivor fired.
   The zombie had a neat hole between the eyes, it fell. The others turned and tried to rush him, but Jacob was already firing. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. . .
There was only one zombie still standing, but it was right on top of him! Jacob pressed himself against the side of the wall, trying to avoid it. The zombie couldn’t stop in time and went a couple of paces past Jacob while trying to turn. Jacob coolly brought his Glock up and fired at point blank. The head spayed dark blood as it went down.
   Jacob quickly checked his gun (Skilled: Handguns, Dexterous will mean that he can reload really fast). He was down to nine bullets in this clip. He switched them out. Jacob noticed

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

that there were at least nine zombies sprawled out in the hallway. He had killed five. The four others all, strangely enough, had been beheaded. Weird, but it seemed to have been effective.
   Jacob saw that the door had been pretty badly damaged by the zombies, but it still looked sturdy. In a couple of seconds, Jacob unlocked the deadbolt, and ran the key card through. He said, “I’m friendly,” and opened the door.
   There was one man lying in the hotel room. There was bloody everywhere. He clutched a pistol in his hand, and a bloody battle-axe was lying at his feet. It looked like he had shot himself. His jaw was clearly shattered. Then, he moved. Though he must be in incredible pain, the guy was able to somewhat say, “Hey, mon ami, I Peaire. Stay away, infec . . .”
   The guy, Peaire, blacked out. Jacob locked the door again and wondered what the bloody hell he should do now.

Challenge #3: What historic figure is Pearie based on?

[Strife26]

Then again, Zako's trun would be a bit quicker to write.  Errr...
I guess that you get moved up Zako, your turn will be up in  about an hour.

[Vaiolis]

Hey, I think I figured out the city! Is it Pittsburg, PA? That's my first guess, but if we are allowed more, I also guess Morgantown.

[Frelock]

Bingo, got the term.  Could it be Malapropism?

"Malpropism is the incorrect use of a word by substituting a similar-sounding word with different meaning, usually with comic effect." -Wikipedia

[Strife26]

Nope. Guess As Many Times As You Want Though. 

[Strife26]

Yes Frelock

[Frelock]

W00T!  I knew googling "literary devices list" would produce something.  And though it was annoying to go all the way through the M's, I learned a new word!

[Vaiolis]

Hehehe, as many guesses as we want, hm? Google maps, here I come!

Let's see, Upon further inspection of other similarly-pathed south-to-north rivers, I will guess
Eugene, Corvallis, Salem, and Portland, although they seem a bit close to the ocean, but oh well.

If not those, I give up