Travis lay next to the edge of a roof of a tall building. He was on his side, his torso on the lip and allowing his left arm to hang limply over the side. His head leaned against it, an insomnia-stricken eye half open and a diseased iris stared out of it. His breathing was heavy and he let out a few sickly coughs occasionally. His long tongue protruded from his mouth, draped over his dangling arm. It was night; the time of day where he should've been active and about. However, he was too bored. His lazy and infirm eye skated across the ground far below and he caught a brief glimpse of red.

Blinking slowly, he raised his head slightly.

"An infected..." He said to himself. It was Zoey, the only infected female in the whole town. With his half-tainted sight, he scanned the area for the other three, the males in the small group. The one he was most wary of was the muscular one, the one that was fond of shouting when someone like Travis was nearby. The one that often startled the Witches in the area. "Then that gets everyone hyped up," Travis rolled his eye at the common scenario: Francis would disturb the Witch, and while she was busy going AWOL on him, all the others would attack the miniscule band of infected, which meant Boomer bile all over the place and Hunters pouncing on everything that moved. Even his own kind would horde with the common folk. "Well, I could go ahead and reel her in…" He whispered to himself, propping himself up to a sitting position. "But then they'd shoot me and I don't want that." No sooner had he said that that his head pulsed and he started to cough violently, a loud and unwholesome sound that was instantly recognizable. He stopped and slapped a hand over his mouth, suddenly more alert. Sure enough…

"Smoker!" The war vet, Bill, called. Travis hurriedly scooted back, out of sight from the infected as he heard guns going off and bullets hitting the side of the building. He wiped his brow, licking his lips messily and leaving a thin green film of saliva all over them.

"Close one…" He sighed to himself before relaxing slightly. Suddenly, he heard shooting going in a different direction and peeked over the edge of the building to see what the sudden fuss was. He saw the four infected shooting the others. His ill-looking green eye looked ahead, a sick feeling suddenly taking over his stomach. He heard disgusting sounds and saw a Boomer close by. "Marr?" Travis said to himself. Sure enough, it was the Boomer that had given him a hard time for so long.

Marr and Travis had grown up together and were often childhood rivals. Travis was tall and gangly; Marr was short, squat, and meaty. Travis was athletic; Marr was a pig. Travis wasn't exactly morally upright(he started smoking when he was thirteen); Marr was too lazy to do drugs. Travis was kind of a geek, intelligent regardless of how much he smoked; Marr, somehow, was stupid, but immensely popular. This led to several conflicts between the two over the years, Marr taking a big league. For every trap Travis would set for Marr, Marr would find him in his hiding spot and perform some sort of unspeakable torture to him. His favourite method would be to drag him in the freezer and freeze his tongue to something metal. He would leave Travis in there for several hours to either freeze or pull his tongue off. Once they gained their special powers and Travis realized that his combination of smoking and getting his tongue stuck to freezing metal gained him his position as a "Smoker", he vowed to use his new ability to get revenge on Marr. Never happened; even though Marr was still shorter than him, while Travis was using him as target practice, he would drench the Smoker in his bile. Travis would immediately retreat, coughing and throwing up himself in the process.

He shuddered at his own memories and returned to the normal world. He actually considered saving Marr for a second. However, even though he was still in range of the infected, he decided to watch and wait things out. He coughed a couple more times, but wasn't worried about it; he heard them talking about him, but he knew they wouldn't shoot him if they couldn't see him or he didn't attack them. Then, before his eye, he saw the bully Boomer Marr explode. "Meh. Serves him right," Travis shrugged, ultimately realizing that he had done no wrong in letting Marr die.

"God. A Boomer and a Smoker in the same area?" He heard the one called Louis say, sounding frustrated. "What the hell is this?" Travis scoffed and rolled his eye. Jeez, infected were so dumb. He then heard something crawling around in the shadows. He sat up quickly, glancing around and licking his lips nervously. That sounded like--

"RRRYAAAHH!!!" He heard something scream and land on him. He yelled, startled at what happened. He closed his eye and flinched away from whomever was on top of him. He then opened his eye slowly to find someone in a hoodie facing his direction and giving him a toothy grin.

"M-Mason?" Travis asked somewhat incredulously. Indeed, it was the Hunter who followed him around everywhere. His name was Mason. Mason nodded erratically, waving at Travis enthusiastically.

Mason, Mason, Mason. Mason was a Hunter, younger than most. He looked the same as the other Hunters, though he looked like he shrunk in the wash. You couldn't see his eyes, but you could see a wide mouth with a single protruding fang that always seemed to be smiling. Mason's initial hobby was jumping on things and glomping people, though he was more harmless than the other Hunters. He also had a tendency to follow Travis wherever he went, on account that he claimed that Travis was the only one who didn't try to run off at the mere sight of Mason. Mason said that he was Travis' biggest fan and would be anywhere Travis would, which was both nice and a pain in the butt to Travis.

"Whatcha doin'?" Mason asked a now frowning Travis, who shoved him off and brushed off his filthy shirt.

"Well, I was examining the infected when you had to go and catch me by surprise," Travis rolled his eye. "By the way, Marr was just eliminated." Mason seemed truly broken by this information as he started whimpering, holding his hand up to his chest like a begging puppy.

"R-really?" He squeaked, sounding truly upset. Travis looked vaguely surprised for a second before sighing and rubbing the back of his head, averting Mason's face. He nodded slowly, exhaling. It was quiet for a minute before Mason broke out into a loud wail. He flopped down onto his face and began pounding the ground with a clawed hand. "H-he was so… YOUNG!!" he shrieked. No sooner had he shrieked than Travis heard the infected say, "Careful, there's a Hunter nearby…" Travis immediately snatched Mason up and held him with one arm, clapping a slightly green hand over his mouth.

"Shut up!" He wheezed angrily before standing and backing away from the edge. He held Mason as if taking him hostage, holding him up off the ground and keeping Mason's fanged mouth covered. Slowly and carefully, he got closer to the edge of the building. He glanced behind him with his half-blind vision, seeing how close they were to the edge. Once they reached the lip of the building, he looked down and saw a nearly empty alleyway, save the occasional regular pedestrian here and there. Mason looked behind them as well and started to struggle, making muffled shouts. Travis was stronger than Mason, however, and held him still and tightened his hand over Mason's mouth. Confidently, Travis stepped back and off the side of the building. Mason shouting under Travis' hand, Travis wasn't the least bit worried as he looked down and landed on a dumpster, producing loud tin noises.

Immediately, several people rushed from around the corner, running past Travis and Mason and making drunken beelines for the Infected. Travis, still holding Mason, watched out of a half-blind gaze as he heard guns go off and the sound of things exploding. After it stilled, he watched and waited. Mason had long since then calmed down and was now proceeding to licking Travis' palm. Travis just felt it and shuddered slightly, but remained cautious and quiet. Slowly, carefully, he placed Mason down and peeked around the corner, his long tongue twitching nervously. He barely caught Louis' white shirt tail as he whizzed around a corner, going in the opposite direction of Travis and Mason.

"Okay, it's safe," Travis sighed, wiping his sweaty brow. Mason fell to the dumpster heavily, shaking his head and licking his lips. Travis turned to Mason, glaring down at him with his half-sight. He then glanced down at a wet palm, shining with saliva from the young Hunter. "You," He hissed, wiping his slimy hand on his filthy off-white shirt. "You owe me big. If I wasn't there to bail you out, they so would've shot you," Travis pointed at Mason with a long, bump-covered arm. Mason looked at Travis' arm for a minute, licking his lips before jumping and looking like he just hit a realization.

"Oh my Geebus, there were INFECTED there??" He asked incredulously, would-be gleaming eyes staring up at Travis in surprise and awe. Travis nodded, sighing and closing his eyes patiently. "…WOW!!!" Mason exclaimed, leaping up exuberantly. "We almost died! How weird would that have been?"

"I'm pretty sure I don't know, and I don't ever want to find out," Travis replied, shaking his head and peeking out from behind the corner again. No infected in sight, just regular citizens lying dead everywhere. Those that didn't attack didn't get shot which, Travis assumed, was part of how the world worked. "Okay, it's safe," Travis said, walking out from around the corner slowly and somewhat cautiously. He motioned for Mason to follow. The young Hunter followed suit, looking around excitedly.

. . . Part Two to come, er... Later.