I wrote this a while ago... I hope you guys like it as much as I liked writing it.

**.**

Paranoid is a understatement. Zoey sat under a table, her only jacket shredded to cover a nasty bite she had received a few hours ago. That's what happens when you fall asleep. I have to stay awake… they'll come. She was covered in guts, but it kept the Zombies away. As long as she smelled like them, they may leave her alone now. She shook her head. No.. no they will always come back. She stared at Bill's dead body only a thirty feet away. She felt tears stinging the back of her eyes.

"I'll miss you so much…" She rubbed her legs to get some feeling into them. Reloading one of the many pistols she had laid out, she waited.

Nick wandered the empty streets, kicking a lonely rock that was in the path. This is what his life felt like now. He was a little lonely rock, being kicked around by fate. He clenched his teeth. This was stupid. He would find them. He just need to look harder. His family was somewhere.

Slinging his jacket over his shoulder, Nick caught up to Coach and Rochelle who were boarding up the new safe house for the night.

"Hey, I picked up some more food. It should last us a few more days." He tossed a garbage bag to the floor. The bag mostly full of canned veggies and beans.

"Good thing this place gots a can opener." Ellis jumped downstairs, skipping several steps at the bottom.

"I was wondering when you be back. It's been several hours, man." Ellis said as he started digging through the bag. Nick threw his white jacket on the chair, and proceeded to pull out a cigarette, lighting it.

He was so sick of this heat. Its been half a year since the infection hit. He's traveled south, in search of his family. He was only looking for them now, considering nothing else seemed to matter. Nobody cared who, or what you were. Simple fact was this, everyone wanted something from you. Your guns, your food, your…pride. He was lucky enough to fight off most. But it was still tough. He was in the business of manipulating people. It's what he did; did being the key word, or at least he's trying not to do it anymore. Now that he found a group that wants to work together, he won't mess it up by making them suspicions of him. The worst thing that had happened to him was losing a case of water, and some chips. Big bastards came to his safe house, busting open the door. Some shaved tattooed white dude, and a matching black guy. He was not going to get killed over that. He had more stashed in the back. He would sacrifice it. Hiding several feet away, he chilled in the bushes until they left.

"Hey. Don't you want something to eat hun?" Rochelle was always nice to him, but he felt indifferent about her. He was respectful towards her, and helped protect the group as a whole, but beyond that…he could give a crap less.

"I'm fine. Thanks anyways." He unbutton the top button in an attempt to get some more cool air on his overheated chest. Even with people eating each other, he wasn't going to give up his sense of style. He laughed at himself, flicking the ashes on the floor. Style. Like anyone gives a shit.

"You find something funny, boy?" Coach walked up with a bowl of baked beans, thrusting his hand out at him. Without answering, Nick took the bowl and ate the cold can good. Even though he told them he wasn't going to eat. It was hard to say no with the food right in front of his face.

Coach must not of expected an answer, because he walked away heading upstairs. Nick finished his beans pretty quickly, tossing his bowl in the sink. Nobody was going to clean them anyways. He may as well just thrown the dishes outside.

Ellis could be heard from across the room, sloppily eating his portion of beans. Nick actually found Ellis enjoyable to be around. Maybe it was because everyone knew, even with all his other faults, that kid was dependable. Hell, all of them had their merits. Rochelle was their mother. Or at least the other two. He wasn't in the mood for her coddling. Coach was a hell of a good leader. Nick could have been one, but it will be easier to break away if he isn't the leader. So he took trivial tasks of the group, getting food every once in a while, shit like that. He was even able to keep good relations with any other survivors that they passed by. Like a diplomat maybe. Nick was soon snickering at himself again.

"Nick, if you happen to go out again, is there any way you could pick up some chocolate?" She looked hopeful.

"I'll try." He took the last drag of his cigarette, and tossed it on the floor.

"Night Rochelle. See ya in the morning." He laid on the floor, back against the wall, shoes on and everything.

"Goodnight Nick." She turned towards Ellis. "Come on hunny, we're going to bed." He peered out of his eye to see Ellis licking his bowl. That boy was like a damn dog sometimes. He let out a long sigh. Weird fucking people.

**.**

Nick was jarred awake, like almost every morning, by some crazy asshole screaming in the doorway.

"PLEASE! For the love of God, let me IN!" Nick peered up and could tell right away the man was crazed from the infection. Half his face was a greenish tint, and he was drooling all over the window of the door. Nick slowly got up, in no hurry to kill the man.

"You know we can't do that, old man." He kept his voice calm.

"Why the FUCK not?" A inhuman growl escaped his mouth. He shook his head as if to get the whole idea of it off of him.

"That's why, you crazy bastard. If you come in here, you'll try to kill us." By this point Coach was up, standing next to him.

"Mister… you need to leave. We don't wanna kill you." His voice was calming, but Nick knew it wouldn't matter. He won't leave.

"But…it smells so good in THERE! What are you cooking?" He began gnawing on the bars, spitting green drool all over door.

"Nothing." Coach looked slightly confused.

"You smell us, old man. Your turning." Nick picked up the shotgun. The quickest way to kill the poor animal. Checking to make sure it was loaded, he snapped it back into place.

"I'll tell you again, mister. You need to leave." Coach gave the man a sidelong glance. Like he was going to walk away any minute.

The stranger just kept gnawing on the bars, making a gurgling noises. "Tasty, tasty…."

Nick brought the gun to his shoulder. "This sucks, Coach." And fired.

**.**

Nick had been called every name in the book. He was a thief, heartless ass, monster, the list goes on and on. But he never liked killing people. Even crazed half zombies. He did all the things people called him. He left women heartbroken, telling them he loved them and that he would gain their money back that they gave him for some illegal investment. Saying he would risk the rest of his freedom to make them happy. Then he'd run off with their money. No guilt, what-so-ever. Now that he stared into death's black empty eyes every day, he was feeling a change of heart. It was payback, that was the only possible reason in his mind that this was happening at all. Zombies, right out of a horror film.

It was bright out, but with enough cloud cover that it was so unbelievably hot today. Coach and Rochelle stood over a map in the middle of the floor, circling places with a pen.

"Here. This is where we should head next. It will be safer than where we are now. This place is crawling with infected." Rochelle seemed pretty confident. Nick peered over her shoulder. Yes, he needed to head to New Orleans. That was the last known location of his sister. He was more than desperate to find someone, but his sister was at the top of his list. She was the only one who didn't write him off.

"Yes, I agree." Nick simply commented. If they didn't go there, he would have to go on his own. And he hoped he wouldn't have to go alone.

"If you're sure, Ro. I'll follow you." Coach said each word slowly.

"Sounds good to me. As long as I get to kill some zombies, I don't give`a shit." Ellis grinned ear to ear.

"Yea, well sounds good to me too, as long as I survive." Nick adjusted his new tie.

"Well duh, Nick. That's kinda already assumed." Ellis drawl annoyed Nick more than it should of.

Nick didn't even reply, just turned to the exit.

"Are we going or not?"

I guess I should finish my other story, before I get too caught up in this one...