Zombie Squad is an elite zombie suppression task force ready to defend your neighborhood from the shambling hordes of the walking dead. We provide trained, motivated, skilled zombie extermination professionals and zombie survival consultants. Our people and our training are the best in the industry.
Visit us online here: http://zombiehunters.org
To reach a recruitment officer contact "BridgetFisher", or search the clan list for "Zombie Squad".

Our Clan provides a safe house for all recruits to further train and advance their skills.

Safehouse:

Sickbay: Heal character with less SP.
Living Quarters: Recharge SP faster than the standard rate.

Training:

Shooting Range: Raise Marksmanship when idle.
Close Combat: Raise Close Combat when idle
Weight Room: Raise Agility when idle.
Gym: Raise Strength when idle.
Work Bench: Raise Technical skill when idle.

Congratulations Zombie Squad on climbing the ranks and building enough safehouses to make New York a safer place for all players.

Congratulations to all the members of Zombies Squad.
Through their hard work and determination they have cracked the top 100, into the top 50 and now on their way to the top.


Keep it up guys, everyone does their part as long as everyone has fun.

Hooray Zombie Squad

haha

Zombie Squad has only 1 rule, HAVE FUN!
If you like zombies and gaming then Zombie Squad is the clan for you.

the clown's clan?

So is this clan affiliated with the Actual Zombie Squad, as in www.zombiehunters.org

Thats the link you can also donate to help with charity work that is done.

Already a member. I didn't realize you had the link in your post until I posted my message.
What's the ranking for the clan so far, and who's in charge?

Debriefing Report #1178
Objective: Recon and inventory cargo containers at docks
Team Leader: Sgt. Duke St.Jon

During a routine patrol a Zombie Squad recon team scouting the docks were inventorying cargo containers when they heard what sounded like electrical humming coming from a nearby ontainer. Upon opening the container they discovered a group of Shaolin Monks sitting indian style their eyes closed silently chanting.

The recon team kept their guns trained on the Shaolin Monks trying to assess the situation not sure what they were looking at. Lights mounted on their guns pierced through the darkness illuminating the faces of the monks who continued their dark vigil with stone faces repeating their rhythmic chant. Suddenly behind them, a metal thud was heard. They turned around and looked up seeing that a the doors to a cargo container had swung open. Out of the darkness in the container spilled out what must have been hundreds of the undead.

Just like it was second nature the recon team sprang into action, shots rang out and heavy metal rained down on the horde slowly approaching them. With each shot another zed dropped but the ocean of the undead kept creeping forward. The Zombie Squad team leader tossed his last clip to a new recruit whose gun barrel was running red from the intense fire. As the ammo ran dry the team took up offensive positions for what may be their last stand.

They looked around trapped amid a maze of steel containers with a wall of flesh about to descend upon them. The moaning of the undead was like a symphony of twisted metal and death mixed together as the horde moved within striking distance of them. The new recruit had one last round chambered thinking to himself he would take his own life before those undead bastards turned him into one of them. The sergeant bit his lip, and sweat ran down his brow as he tightened his grip on the cold steel of his kunai. Their hearts were beating in rhythym
with the monks chants,their eyes focused on the shambling horde when suddenly everything stopped...

The lone wolf Zombie Squad recon team faced down against the undead menace ready to go toe to toe until their last breath when time itself seemed to freeze. Everything went silent, for a moment, the moaning of the horde was gone, all that remained was the silent chants of the monks and when that stopped the sergeant heard nothing. As if frozen in time the sergeant and recruits felt a hurricane of wind whip by their bodies and the bright colors of the sun fly before them.

Shaolin Monks moved like lightning ahead of the team their robes forming a sea of color as they moved. The sergeant stood stone faced his mouth hung open as he watched the shaollin monks crash into the hundred or so zombies with deadly precision in what looked like a nuclear fueled dance of adrenaline and death. An eerie silence could be heard except for the thud of the last zombie whose body crumbled to the hard concrete. With not a single zombie left standing the monks stood with their backs to the troopers motionless.

Out of the silence pierced the sound of metal hitting concrete as one of the younger recruits lost his grip on his gladius and it hit the pavement. Turning around the sergeant could tell the new recruit was just shocked by the poetic dance of death he had witnessed. The entire squad was frozen as the sergeant slowly approached the group of shaolin monks who stood like statues their hands pressed together in silent prayer. A lone monk turned around and squinted his eyes at the sergeant who froze in place not knowing weather to fight or run. Across the face of this shaolin monk came a peaceful smile once he locked eyes with the sergeant.

Having seen alot of stuff and things the sergeant kept his grip on his Kunai as he stared down the shaolin monk. He knew that the living are more of a threat than any zombie he had ever come face to face with. The shaolin monks in unison turned around to face the recon team. All the squad could see was the silhouette of the sergeant. The sergeant raised his right hand to his brow and held a salute to the monks. The monks bowed their eyes transfixed on the stoic gaze of the sergeant. The monk who smiled approached the sergeant his bear feet scraping the pavement.

As the monk approached the sergeant dropped his salute. The monk broke the silence and introduced himself saying his name was Kiai Naginatajutsu. He thanked the sergeant for freeing the Shaolin monks from the cargo container and leaned back letting out a laugh that echoed against the metal cargo container, "HAW HAW HAW". Kiai vowed to the sergeant that because of the noble spirit of Zombie Squad he would teach them the ancient lost arts of the ninja.

Behind the sergeant the squad approached as the disciplined shaolin monks moved forward to greet eachother. Upon meeting eachother the shaolin monks high fived the still shocked troopers. Kiai the Shaolin Monk Sensei told the recon team he would teach the dark arts of Kung Fu to any member of Zombie Squad who sought to learn their techniques. The shaolin monks had been taught by their master the most famous samurai in all of China. Of course to become ninjas takes training so the team evacuated the area with the shaolin monks and proceeded to build a Ninja Dojo to train and learn the ancient ways of KungFu.

New York city was a concrete jungle so to build a Ninja Dojo requires the shaolin monks have a place of peace to focus their chi flow. Luckily the team was on a previous patrol when they located a man made lake in the city and in the middle was skull island. It was on Skull Island that the shaolin monks built KungFu Castle so that any Zombie Squad member could train to become a Ninja in their Ninja Dojo.

I still hope that their will be an option to go to a clan chat room on this site in the future. But, at least I finally figured out why chat was off. (:

As the outbreak raged through out New York the humans did well holding they're ground during the day but at night the zombies slowly took back the ground that had been takin during the day. I could no longer stand idle and let the zombies encroach upon my feeding grounds so i joined forces with the Zombie Squad, a elite group of a thousand well trained humans dedicated to eradicate the zombie menace. we made arrangements so that i would hold the line at night decimating the zombie forces with my assassin training and they would take over come dawn when my ability to move around the city disapeared. soon it was evident that not even my skills as a Assassin Class vampire werent enough to eradicate the hordes of the undead.
One night as i was making my way down Park Avenue i was attacked by hundreds of zombies, quickly draining my supply of ammunition, and soon after i knew i needed help, i wasnt going to survive the night if this kept up. Just as i thought the end was nigh, another vampire jumped from a building top and ran through the horde like a scythe, she finished a good number of the zombies, giving me time to draw my kitana and finish the rest off.
After the battle was over we looked at each other, as our red hued eyes met i said, " Hi, my names Kylie, i appreciate yur help, i thought i was done for", she responded saying "my name is Bethany, glad i could help". Smiling, she turned to leave and i called to her saying "Bethany, we should team up, these zombies are stealing our food source, together Me, You, and the Humans known as Zombie Squad could turn the tide of this war............plus it gives you a guarenteed place to safely sleep thru the day". Smiling even bigger she says"you know what, you got yourself a deal".

And thus the Shadow Stalkers were born................

Zombie Squad, eff yea! COMIN' TO SAVE YOU!

i really really REALLY want pizza

It's nice being part of Zombie squad. Love the story.

A bloody handwritten letter with Bridget Fisher's name on the outside.

Boss, I was in the wastelands looking for scrap for dead end, and a pack of wolves jumped me. These things were unstoppable. I used every round I had, and broke off a brand new bayonet in one of them, but they just kept coming. I smashed every crate, pallet, and scrap of wood in the alley beating on them. In the end I fought them hand to hand as long as I could, but it came down to clawing and biting at them. I woke up this afternoon hurting like hell in a alley, I don't know why they didn't finish me off, maybe somebody else got to them first. I am gonna try to crawl back to HQ to the medical facilities, if not I hope somebody finds this letter at least. I hope we have some good meds, I feel like I am burning up with fever and my head is killing me. If I don't make it back give Beth my good lighter.... She's been a good friend to me.

Coonass

Debriefing Report #8742
Objective: Assess threat level in city block a210 (observation only)
Sniper Team Leader: Warrant Officer Kelly, spotter Corporal Moriarty

Perched on top of a deserted building the 2 person Sniper Team watched over the city. Their goal was to observe the area, to find out whose friendly and whose not. Kelly peered through her scope that allowed her to see deep into the belly of the beast in the city streets. Every now and then shed lock onto something moving hoping it was a survivor but more often than not was just another wandering husk of a has been human. Undeterred in her duties she kept a steady lookout, eyeing a wall of wreckage stretching from one side of the road to the other. Kelly adjusted her sights to bring the wall into view, she could make out that the wall was made up of burned out buses and cars with a narrow opening. Moriarty acted as spotter, laying next to Kelly on a worn out potato sack they found to keep something between them and the cold roof. Moriarty would watch the city through his spotting scope while feverishly taking notes on everything he saw. Kelly said look over there, Moriarty turned his focus away from the barricades and peered down the empty street but all he saw was a thick fog of dust and debris. Kelly moved away from her scope to breathe in, and then readjusted her gaze at the wall of smog that hung thick down the street as a shadow formed on the cloud that filled the street like an ocean swirling with clouds of dust.

The clouds parted as the shadow became a figure and exited the storm of debris. A tall stranger walked forward down the street, donned in a grey suit his trenchtcoat whipped behind him. Kelly stared through her sniper scope at the figure who pierced the darkness of the debris. She couldn't make out the strangers face only his eyes that stared ahead like blades of steel cutting through the darkness. His fedora pulled low masked his face from her point of view. The storm of debris behind him sounded like thunder. Kelly sprung up rifle in hand and lifted Moriarty by his collar with her. She motioned to another roof top to get a better view of who this stranger was since their mission was to observe the area. Jumping from one building to another they layed out the only comfort they could a potato sack mat. Kelly leaned over the edge of the building like an eagle while Moriarty set up his spotting scope.

Down in the street, the stranger continued forward toward the wall of wreckage, his trenchcoat made him look like a ghost on the lonely street. As the stranger walked towards the mountain of metal, he thought about how the city was once a thriving metropolis, the skyscrapers standing around him he now only saw as tombstones that marked the death of what was the American Dream. Approaching the wall of wreckage he moved into the narrow passage between the hulking relics of steel that surrounded him. As he neared the other side yellow light flickered on, blinding him. A figure moved in front of the light blocking the bright light. He exited the passage and saw it was a pick up truck, a man got out wearing a hunting cap and orange vest with a shotgun slung over his shoulder. The stranger continued on his way not saying a word and kept on his path unphased by the lights of the truck. Another man was sitting on top of the truck drinking beer and wearing a shirt that was to small, his beer gut hung out naked to the world and spilled over the top of his jeans. Off the truck he jumped to the ground and threw his beer can on the ground looking at the stranger he said "Hey boy where do you think you're going?". He stood in front of the stranger blocking his path while the man with the hunting vest and shotgun moved behind him, he leaned over his back and whispered in his ear in a gruff voice, "Well you gonna pay the toll or not boy?". The stranger took the fat bodies hand off his chest and gripped it like a vice, from his pocket he pulled out a crushed handful of Russian rupees and put it in the fat mans hand whose eyes lit up at the pile of money. Walking forward having payed the toll, the other redneck behind him spit out some dip and raised his hat saying to the stranger, "Hold on there son, you must have more where that came from". Turning around the stranger said "I am a simple man with few needs, now let me be." The stranger kept walking away putting distance between him and the truck. The redneck took the money from the fatties hand and ran ahead to catch up with the stranger. He jumped in front of the stranger and said, "I'm sure if you dun have more money I will just be taking that nice trenchcoat you're wearing". The redneck raised up his shotgun while the stranger in one movement pulled out a giant sword cutting the mans hand off still clenched to the money he took from the stranger. The fat body behind him pulled out a knife that musta been 2 feet long and charged towards the stranger. Looking back the stranger saw the fat man fall down and crumble out of breath due to how fat he was. Crying like a school girl the redneck held his stump and just looked at his severed hand. Cleaning his sword on his tranchcoat the stranger looked down at the redneck and said, "Money is no longer you're god my friend.". The stranger then continued his solemn journey down the street away from the men when the hair on his neck stood up.

Kelly kept an eye on the stranger through her scope, cross hairs fixed on his face since all she could make out were the strangers eyes in the darkness. Like an eagle she stared transfixed on the man when the stranger stopped and looked up at her looking down at him as if he saw straight into her soul. Moriarty said "Did ya see that, its like hes looking right into our soul". Moriarty turned to his notes while Kelly took a breath and returned to looking at the street but the stranger was gone. Where the stranger once was she saw nothing. Kelly got up and moved back to the other building scanning the horizon of the streets below for any movement. Not seeing anything she started to head back to Moriarty, when she heard a voice behind her say, "When you look into the darkness of knight you will find nothing but me standing there". Kelly turned around and saw the stranger standing in front of her with his sword out, even this close she could only make out the strangers eyes and part of a five o'clock shadow. Standing with his sword in his hand the stranger waited for a response, when a crack rang out as the sword was blown apart. Moriarty stepped out from the side with a boomstick in his hand. wiping his hands clean the stranger introduced himself as the Russian Knight, he looked up saying "I came to this place to bring peace to the dead who never found it in life". Kelly looked out over the city and said "If that's what you came here to find, you're in the right place." Pleased with her answer, the Russian said "Good then it is decided, let us leave this place". Moriarty was puzzled by the response but always thought the more the merrier so they left and headed for Headquarters.

Through the city streets they snaked from building to building among the walking dead hoping not to attract their attention. Every now and then Kelly would look back to see if any roamers were following them and kept seeing kept seeing the storm cloud of debris from earlier following them. Moving through the concrete jungle they made their way to the Headquarters, 2 new recruits with mini guns walked up to the greet them. FNG's were always put on the perimeter to keep an eye out for roamers. These 2 new recruits looked like something out of a cartoon one was tall and lanky and the other short and stout. The taller one said, "Hey whoa, whoa, hes not with us did you check him for weapons?". Stepping in front of Kelly and Moriarty the Russian said, "What sword I had is gone and I'm afraid I cant give you my weapons." Lifting his helmet up since it was to big for his head the tall recruit thought to himself, I cant look stupid now in front of Kelly and Moriarty, I better make sure I look like a pro. Quickly he blurted out, "Ok tough guy if you wont hand over you're weapons then I am going to take them from you" his mini-gun was so heavy he used every muscle he had just to bring it level to the ground.

Kelly was amused by the drama, she looked back to lookout for roamers since the FNG's were to busy having a pissing contest. Noticing that cloud of debris moving closer and the sound of thunder approaching with it. Annoyed by the new recruits showing off, she grabbed Moriarty's arm and said, "Lets go there's a storm coming!". Moving fast the storm approached and surrounded them, debris filled the air until they couldn't see their hands in front of them, the loud thunder filled the air and then came to a stop. As the dust cleared, they found themselves surrounded by an army of bears mouths open with their razor sharp claws dug into the street. The tall recruit looked around at all the bears not knowing where to aim, and finally back at the Russian who said to him, "If you wish to take my weapons then be quick about it as my friends are hungry for a snack". Reaching into his coat pocket the Russian pulled out a flask and handed it to the tall recruit and said, "Take this vodka it will calm you're nerves". Taking the flask the tall recruit tried to drink it but his shaking hand spilled more on his uniform then he got in his mouth. The Russian walked past the 2 recruits and into the HQ, saying "I think I am going to like it here". Thus the bear cavalry was born of only the hardest and bravest of Zombie Squad.

Support the right to arm bears!

Pardon the interruption, but Zombie Squad is now ranked #3.
We now return you to your normally scheduled program.

Posted By Coonass on 02-09-2011 06:21 AM
A bloody handwritten letter with Bridget Fisher's name on the outside.
Boss, I was in the wastelands looking for scrap for dead end, and a pack of wolves jumped me. These things were unstoppable. I used every round I had, and broke off a brand new bayonet in one of them, but they just kept coming. I smashed every crate, pallet, and scrap of wood in the alley beating on them. In the end I fought them hand to hand as long as I could, but it came down to clawing and biting at them. I woke up this afternoon hurting like hell in a alley, I don't know why they didn't finish me off, maybe somebody else got to them first. I am gonna try to crawl back to HQ to the medical facilities, if not I hope somebody finds this letter at least. I hope we have some good meds, I feel like I am burning up with fever and my head is killing me. If I don't make it back give Beth my good lighter.... She's been a good friend to me.
Coonass

Great Story!!!

heres how i ended in the great Zombie squad clan:

a simple mexican nurse that came to the city to find job in the mercy hospital a day before the outbreak, when he saw the outbreak he tried to save all the ppl he could but had to run when his efforts were futile he was found by the leader of Zombie Squad almost dead while trying to open some twinkies now he is loyal to the leader and the clan for saving his life.

*garbled radio transmission*

This is Coonass if any other ZS can hear me please pass on this message to BridgetFisher

Boss, I have rallied some of the other wastelanders and clan members. We are going to try to beef up the safehouses up in the central part of the city but we are getting our arses handed to us by some of the zeds in the area. We need all the guns we can get up here to help lower the zed population so that we can concentrate on the safehouses and the supply lines, but for God's sake tell them to put on their good armour, they gonna need it!

Coon

((I like the RP element this clan has. Just joined and wished to share my intro into the ZS if that's alright ))

Breathing heavy. Heart beating hard. The man felt light-headed from all the duress he had pushed his body into. Gripping his modified stub-nosed pistol tightly, the figure glanced slowed down his pace as he pressed his body against the cold brick wall of one of the buildings in the ally way. The night air had a bite to it. But it was more than just the tactile sense of the air that gave an unwelcoming disposition.

Some distance away, the rustling of old paper debris and the whistling of the wind filled the cold alleyway, carrying with it the strong stench of rot and death. Pulling the brim of his trucker hat lower to add some moderate protection over his face, the lone figure sighed as his thoughts ran to a time he could barely remember.

Damn. What I would do for a lighter… The man thought to himself as he surveyed his surroundings once more, his free hand subconsciously caressing his coat pocket that held his precious cargo of cancer sticks.

It was then, some distance away, another sound echoed from the shadows of the street ahead. A familiar sound that made his chest heavy with each listening. The moans of the Infected. Cocking back the hammer of his 9mm stub-nose, the man crouched low to minimize his presence. Adjusting the backpack he wore, the man crept slowly back the way he came, his eyes attempting to pierce the darkness ahead to find the source of the sickening moans.

Dammit. He cursed again as his gloved finger tightened around the trigger from anticipation. It was then, something caught his peripheral to his right. Instinct took over as he pointed and squeezed the trigger, unleashing an echoing boom as the gun went off.

Not even giving time to study what he shot, the man was up and running back the way he came. He didn’t bother looking back, for he could only guess evil was coming behind him. Ahead, he noticed more movements from the shadows. After a few more silent curses in his head, the lone figure realized his mistake in firing his weapon. It had attracted more attention than he wanted.

Pressing his back against the wall, he looked down both corridors for hope, only noticing moving shadows that seemed to keep away from the lighting around him. This only fed to his heightened sense of fear as he calculated which shadow was moving closest to him. It wasn’t long till one of the shadowy beings emerged towards him.

It was a young woman, who was once a beauty in her early twenties, but now, was ravaged by decay and illness. Her eyes had a sick white film over them that only insinuated to her state of being. She snarled in a horrid animal way as she lunged forward, her claw-like hands out like the primal monster she was.

Once more, instinct took over as the man’s gun was raised and went off. This time, the round shattered through the woman’s forehead and exploded out the other end of her skull. All seemed quiet and still for a moment as the body of the woman fell limp to the floor. But then, more of the shadows stirred and emerged towards the man. Firing off three more shots to his right, the man pushed into whatever was blocking the way. Reaching underneath his heavy coat he had scavenged, the man pulled out a foot-long bayonet and slashed out wildly at the dark while moving forward till he felt nothing in front of him.

Behind him, the echoes of the undead filled the ally as they gave chase, their hands always feeling like they were inches away from him. With one hand holding his sharp bayonet and the other holding his pistol, the survivor debated about his fate. He had one round left. Either he could spend the shot on one of the Infect and go down fighting the rest with his knife, or he could save himself the trouble of this Hellish world and use the one bullet to end all his misery.
It was then the echoes of automatic gunfire erupted behind him. Slowing to a jog, the man looked back as the dark alley seemed to light up at the muzzle fire of automatic weapons. The shadowy beings were quickly torn to shreds as carefully aimed shots ripped through their heads, causing their bodies to drop where they were.

Emerging from the carnage, a group of men wearing military fatigues and armed with automatic weapons walked up to the fatigued man.

“You alright?” One of the men questioned as his eyes seemed to look past the tired survivor and into the darkness ahead. “Are you alone? Did you get bitten?”

“No…” The man muttered as he felt a mixed feeling of relief and simple tiredness wash over him. He glanced up to his saviors and noticed the strange armband they wore. “ZS?” He whispered through his hoarse voice as he studied the men before him.

Upon hearing the initials, the man smiled as he relaxed a bit and finally looked at the guy they just saved. “Stands for Zombie Squad. Heh, you look like shit and in need of some rest.” Before the worn man could respond, another one of the military men was there with them, handing him a can labeled BUZZ. “What’s your name?”

Drinking the offered can, a wave of energy washed over him as he looked over to the men. “Maku, sir. At least, that’s what you can call me…”

Nodding his head, the man motioned for Maku to follow them the way they came. “Come on, Maku. Unless you plan on being someone’s dinner tonight.”

(continued rp of Mako's story)

As Mako is lead into a ZS safehouse he is greeted by folks working on guns, at reloading stations, and the sound of a ruckus coming from the make shift kitchen.

"I dun told ya ain't nuttin wrong wit dem sammiches!" A long haired wastelander with a Louisiana/Texas crossed accent replies as he is shooed out the door. "Jus put a little hot sauce on 'em deh be aight!"

"We aren't all dogs Coonass!" some body yells back.

"Hey you too damn picky buddy ro," Coonass answers. "Oh hey! Da boys said yo name was Maku. Go on an git it da kitchen and git a bite ta eat, I'm headed back out into da wastelands for da night. If ya need a hand jus ask ol Coonass, I'm usually around sommers." He picks up his rifle and heads back outside where you hear him hoot, hollar and fire a couple of times to draw the zeds away from the safehouse door before he takes off.

"Don't worry about him," a little girl says from where she sits reloading shotgun shells and swinging her feet. "Coonass is crazy, but he prefers being out in it to his room upstairs. You should go ahead and get something to eat, but you might not want one of his "Special" sandwiches he always whips up." She wrinkles her nose as she goes back to her work.

“Um…Thanks.” The man murmured as he adjusted to his new surroundings. Studying those around, he slowly began to realize this was a reality. There was more in this world than sleepless night and thoughts of escaping this harsh world. Glancing to the kitchen area, the man glanced at the group once more as he struggled to if he could trust them to take his backpack off or would they simply kill him with his back turned and steal everything he had. It was then, his gaze fell upon the little girl.

Bearing a weak smile on his weary face, the man took of his heavy backpack and went over to the kitchen area. Though the pungent smells of undead from outside never really left his nostrils, the smell of fresh food was even more appealing and overpowering. Looking at the unusually made sandwiches that were left on the counter, the man reached out, grabbed one, and took a huge bite.

There was indeed something unusually about the sandwich, but he didn’t care. He ignored his taste buds as took a bite after another until the entire sandwich was gone. A soft chuckle escaped the man as he felt the food fill his once empty stomach.

Walking back to where his pack was with the small girl, the man continued to wear a soft smile on his face.

“The name is Maku and I must say, your friend’s sandwich is the best I’ve ever had in a long time…” He paused as he thought about when was the last time he had a sandwich. Then again, much of his past was a haze since awaking from the hospital.

“Um…so you guys are the Zombie Squad, eh? So what do you guys do exactly?” The man asked the small girl, removing his cap to reveal a salt-and-peppered hair and his weathered tan face. It felt odd asking the young girl questions about the group, but he felt more comfortable around her than the other armed men.

(Continuing)

The little girl looks up and blinks a few times. "Uhm... duh we survive...." she sticks her tongue out mischievously.

"Don't be rude Jenny," an older gentlemen in military surplus chides her. "Have a seat," the man offers the couch with a wave of his hand. "There are a few marked rooms upstairs that are empty take your pick. There are only a few rules. We kill zombies, zeds as Coonass calls them, we don't steal from each other, and anything we find that the clan safehouses we can use we drag back." The old man sits and leans his cane up against the edge of the couch. "Mostly here we look after one another. We try to survive and make ourselves and our clan stronger. Oh there are other clans I will grant you but few of them with the sheer numbers we have, though there are some good people in a few of them. I would like to think that Zombie Squad(tm) is a large family. We try to be anyway. Sometimes a family member gets their feelings hurt and leaves, but that's what family is about. If you didn't care enough to have your feelings hurt then you probably weren't invested anyway." He turns and looks at Jenny. "Time for bed dear." She climbs off of her stool and hugs him goodnight then waves as she leaves upstairs. "For now think of us as a safe place with a watchful eye. You can rest easy in any of the safehouses, though do be certain if you see our marking that it isn't something some random person has put up and not tended too. That's how I got the bad leg. I went to sleep in a safehouse only to find that the door had not been reenforced. Luckily it was a raider's bullet and not a zombie bite that got my leg. I still have his gun if you ever want to see it." The old man stands up. "Well a bit long winded for me, and it is past my bedtime as well. Look around, make yourself at home, because until you choose differently that's where you are." The old man grabs his cane, sneaks a nip from a bottle in his pocket with a wink, then toddles upstairs and disappears.

(Continuation)
Maku stared at the child as she gave him her simple answer. Usually, under normal circumstances, the weary man would of laughed at the young girl’s wit, but the cold reality of it all was that it was the truth. Nodding his head, his attention turned to the older gentlemen who then spoke. Maku listened silently as the man explained in depth about the group. Nodding his head as he wore a solemn expression, the worn newcomer took a seat where the girl once occupied as he continued to listen.

“You are a lucky man.” The man commented upon hearing about his leg as he eyed it briefly. “Well, thank you for everything. If it wasn’t for you guys, I would be deadmeat…Heh.” He chuckled briefly at his unintentional pun before letting a yawn escape.

“You know, I think I’ll be stickin’ around if you guys will have me. Anyways, have a good night. I think I’ll just rest here for a moment.” Reaching into his coat pocket, the man pulled out his stub-nose he had earlier. Opening the revolver’s cylinder, the man sighed as he studied the last bullet that was in the chamber.

A family. Sounds nice in a world like this. Glancing up, he watch as the man sneaked a sip from some hidden bottle, winked, and vanished upstairs. Grunting in amusement at his dark thoughts, the man reached over to his pack, took out five loose 9mm bullets, and loaded them into the empty chambers of the revolver.

Looking over to those who were still around in the area, the man felt a wave of safety mixed with pure fatigue. Before he knew it, his eyes grew heavy and his body submitted itself to a world of darkness as sleep fell over him.

(continuing)

"Hey," a gruff voice said nudging Maku. "Hey it ain't safe to sleep in front of the front door, drag yer sorry carcass upstairs and get a room." The guy stared down at Maku through military goggles, and cigar smoke. His ragged beard covering his face as he grinned a toothy grin around his cigar. "New aintcha? Well you'll get over that quick enough. Me I always hope somebody makes it long enough for me to give a damn about their name. Some do. And usually it's some nutjob like Coonass." The man laughed heartily as he collapsed onto the couch and opened a warm beer before rearranging his shotgun on his lap. "Wonder why it is mostly the nutjobs? Hell maybe we are the only ones left in this insane world anymore." The man belches after the beer and taps his chest with his fist. "Damn Coon and his barky's special sammiches. Always give me indigestion, but it's still better than them frickin' soldier rats." He grinned again. "What I wouldn't give for a good old fashioned cheeseburger. Ah well I can eat Coon's cooking and pretend anyway." He pulls off his left boot and ties a string leading from the front doorknob to his big toe through a hole in his sock. "Anyway I got front door duty tonight and I snore like a epileptic chainsaw so best you move along." The man pulls his helmet down low over his eyes and is instantly asleep.

The rested man snapped into attention, his index finger tightening around the trigger of his six-shooter as he glanced at the source of his disturbance. Relaxing a bit at the man’s present, he watched in silence as the man took a seat next to him and opened a can of obviously warm beer.

“Yeah. Just came in.” Maku responded upon asking about his status. Watching him in silence, the camouflage coated man nodded his head as he listened to the man speak about this “Coonass” and nutjobs. Adjusting himself some, the man glanced over to the doorway to the safehouse.

“In a world like this, you have to be a little crazy to survive.” The man uttered before letting out a soft chuckle before letting his attention fall back onto the man. Giving a small smirk, Maku got up from the seat as the man fell into a more relaxed position on the couch and mentioned something about “front door duty” before passing out.

No longer feeling tired and a bit restless, the refreshed clansman glanced at the door before pocketing his stub nose away.

I’m sure they won’t mind if I take front door duty while our friend rests. Seems like nowadays, it’s hard to find a good place to sleep. Glancing back to the kitchen, the man went over to where the leftover “Coon Sandwiches” were and took another. It was then, he realized what everyone was talking about. With three big bites, Maku forced swallowed the bizarre sandwich before walking back to the front door.

Damn, I must have been hungry as Hell not to notice the after taste… He thought as he glanced over to his sleeping compatriot. Giving a light chuckle again, his attention went back to the entrance, but mainly, through the narrow slit that served as a peek hole.

Outside, the street was dark as paper debris floated past his vision. Straining to pierce the night scene with his eyes, Maku was able to make out over turned vehicles, a few brick buildings across the street, and several motionless bodies that laid neatly across the street. It was a cold reminder of what world he lived in now.

Suddenly, the thought of this Coonass being out there entered his mind. Was he the man he earlier earlier when coming in? He wouldn’t be out there alone, would he? Then again, like his friend on the couch said, only nutjobs went out there; especially alone.

This Coonass must be either one major badass or one major dumbass. Thinking back at his experience of being alone in the pandemic, Maku couldn’t help but quietly laugh to himself. Or maybe as crazy as we all are.

Fingering his pocketed stub nose pistol, a thought came to him about his sleeping friend. He recalled the man was smoking a cigar, which would hint that he more than likely had a lighter or match. Glancing over to the sleeping man, Maku sighed as he debated on waking the man up for a light.