Somewhere in the middle of nowhere is a town named Los Ganados, affectionately called "This fucking town" by it's inhabitants. But everyone know they love their city. Or loved. Most ain't capable of loving anymore, through no fault of their own. Who is responsible for the viral outbreak is debatable, but the person is probably dead. As is most of the townspeople.

Wandering through the ruins, or hiding under their beds, are the survivors. Those somehow immune to the virus. Now the first stage of the outbreak is over, they have a chance to rebuild. Or not.

Curtains up for second stage!

Frank Zimmer assumed that he mad the mistake that all the other victims made. They thought that it would never happen to them. He first knew something was wrong when he woke up. His door was unlocked. That should have scarred him, but it didn't. Maybe His wife had had gotten up early and just forgotten to lock the door.
He had made his family start to lock their doors in case anything happened, His dog Molly wasn't with him but that was normal, she was sleeping with Annie. Annie loved to sleep with that dog it gave her some comfort.
He was right, Martha had gotten up and had forgotten to close the door. There was one door she did close though. she had closed and locked the front door. She was outside and she had been smoking, he kept telling her it was bad for her health and today it actually was, There was a zombie attached to his wife's neck.

Ryo sat on the workbench, staring emotionlessly at the dead, bloody and bloated corpse on the floor under the car. In his left hand he held a bottle of José Cuervo, and in the right hand, a steel wrench, dripping with blood. When she had showed up, he had reacted by pure instinct, smashed her head in with the wrench, and then released the car from it's lift, crushing her beneath it. Not until afterwards had he realized what he had done - killed Rose, the woman he loved more than anything else on Earth.

...or was it really Rose? He wasn't sure any more. He wasn't sure what was going on - people were turning into monsters, everywhere - even his own father-in-law had turned into a zombie - and Ryo had killed him too. They were all dead. Everybody that had ever made his life worth living, after he had retired to this damned village.

He drank some of the liquor, and then hissed to himself. With a sudden burst of anger, he threw the wrench right through the windshield of the old car he had worked on for several weeks to get running again. It hardly mattered, though - the kid who had contracted him to get it running again had turned into a zombie - another victim of the disease. Ryo asked himself why on Earth someone like him had been allowed to live, and not the sweet and innocent Rose, whom had never harmed anything in her whole life.

"Damn you." He cried out in fury to nobody in particular. His outburst echoed across the garage, but it didn't matter - there was no-one around anyway - not even zombies, though that would hardly last for very long if he kept yelling like that. He then thought about survivors. Would there be any? Drinking some more tequila, he shook his head with a grunt and swallowed it. "Either way..." He said to the dead woman at his feet. "I'm going to turn this city into a zombie bloodbath...for what they did to you." With one last look at Rose, tears lining his face, he stepped out into the store, grabbing the aluminium baseball bat from behind the counter - it was more useful than a wrench.

He knew what he had to do - he had to get home, up to his bedroom, and the locker there, and find his old guns, the ones nicknamed "the Twin Dragons" back when he had been with the Triads in LA, because of all the lives they had reaped. Only when he had those could he start thinking of the bloodbath that would ensue when he went loose on the undead inhabitants of the city.

And it would be a bloodbath.

Eric looked down from his perch of a telephone pole. He'd been hanging onto it for a while now, but it looked like the herd of zombies that had just passed through had forgotten about him and moved on. Being up so high was something he was used-to, having worked almost his entire adult life as someone who maintained the phone lines. Right now though, all he wanted to do was make sure his family and loved ones were safe. He climbed down the pole's steel footholds and soon was on the ground.

Nearby was his service truck for public service. The thing still had fuel and plenty of supplies, but he assumed the walking dead would hear the motor, and so decided that he'd only use it as a last resort. The last thing he wanted was to attract their attention. Opening the back, he quickly gathered a few things he thought would be useful, including a crowbar he'd used earlier in the week to pry open a fuse box. If he'd survived this odd incident, then others had to. If not, his objective would be to get out of the city or die trying.

First thing was first though. Find the living.

Swatting away the zombies with the baseball bat, Ryo finally got out on the open street, and looked around. It was abandoned, as far as he could see. He had a goal, to get to his flat, and find his guns. He was going to throw himself back into that life of violence and death that he had once so wholly embraced.

Three zombies walked past him on the street. Two of them had once been very beautiful women. Now, they'd gone real ugly. And the last one was a young man. A zombie. All of them turned and looked at him suddenly. Ryo looked back at them, weighing the baseball bat in his hands, then shrugged, and stepped right up to them.

With the agility of a living human, he dodged their lame and stiff attacks with their teeth, and smashed one of them on the jaw from below and upwards, throwing the woman on her back to the ground with the lower part of her face crushed. He didn't wait for the others to counterattack, but the baseball bat went up in a circle, and then down like a heavenly hammer striking at a sinner, into the man's skull, crushing it along with his brain, totally.

He turned to the last woman. She glared at him with empty eyes, gargling. With a shrug, he crushed her skull, and walked over her dead body, down the street.

Suddenly, he stopped, and stared at something in the distance. A telephone line maintenance van. A man was standing there, rustling through the equipment in it. Ryo felt his heart leap slightly, and he had to stop himself from running. When he came closer, he called out, not too loud, but loud enough to surprise the man:

"Yo. I guess I'm not the only one who's alive around here."

Eric jumped and spun around, keeping the crowbar handy. Sure enough, someone was there, and he didn't look like the walking dead, but he wasn't sure yet...

"Jesus! You always sneak up on people like that?" he asked.

Ryo grimaced apologetically.
"Sorry. I guess we're all a bit jumpy..." He looked around at that, making sure there were no walking dead around right now. Then he frowned, and motioned with his head towards the van: "You wouldn't happen to have any machine-guns or grenade launchers in there, would you? No? Nuclear weapons? Not that either? Damn." He scratched his neck, and sighed.

"I'm trying to get to my apartment. I've got a pair of guns there. We should stick together, though, we living people, so if you want to tag along...? Maybe we'll run into some other people as well. The more we are, the bgger the chance to get out of this alive. Right?"

It was only one zombie and his wife was long gone, he was amazed that he hadn't heard any knocking or screaming. He went into immediate "fight time," everything seemed to slow down and he felt like it gave him more time to react.

The... thing hadn't seen him yet so he had time to get rid of it. He headed the other way, low to the ground for some reason, and got to the back door. he ran outside into the barn and looked at the assorted tools. These weren't his tools, they were the tools of the old koot that he bought the land from. It was only a few acres he farmed so he did most of it with old fashioned tools.

He grew Grain and corn on an acre each, and on the other two he planted various vegetables that he could eat and sell at the market. He skipped out of fight time for a few seconds and thought about getting these tools and extra seeds he had to somewhere where they could set up a full time stronghold.

"stay in fight time" he said to himself as he snapped back in. He surveyed the tools and instantly chose what he thought would be the most useful. He selected the sickle, as long range as he could get, used to cut multiple stalks of grain so it was sharp, and he had kept it in great condition since it was the only thing he used to cut down grain and corn. He stalked on the side of the house and looked around the corner. The thing was still munching on his wife. He got ready to spring.

As rounded the corner onto the low porch, he swung the sickle and lopped the head clean off of the zombie. The zombie didnt even have time start his low droning moan. But as soon as the head hit the ground the mouth started to open and it began to emit a low gurgling sound. He brought the end of the sickle down on the skull and crushed it before it could turn into a full moan.

"its not done yet" he said to himself. He now had to start the hour long process of disposing of his wife, a process which started with destroying her head and the laborious digging of a hole, which he found especially hard to do through the tears.

When he was done he sat down on the bench that his wife had been using presumably only a few hours ago, the pack sat on the arm rest with one cigarette missing and the lighter was lying on the ground as if scattered in a scuffle. He picked up the lighter and took the pack and looked at it for a few minutes it said Eclipse on it in big letters on the front of the blue pack. He put the pack in his back pocket and the lighter in one of the side pockets on his carpenter jeans.

"time to grieve" he said as he put his head in his hands and he quietly started to weep again. He thought it was about time to pack up the car and get going into town to see who was still alive. He suddenly heard a small voice and panting.

"Daddy?" The voice said

Eric raised an eyebrow. However, whoever the guy was, he was alive, and there was strength in numbers. For the time being, it would be beneficial. "Alright, works for me," he said. "Let's stick together and see if we can find anyone else."

"Sure. We'll take a pit stop at my apartment and bring some firepower. Then we've got a chance of actually surviving." He took out a cigarette and lit it before resting his baseball bat over his shoulder. "Shall we?" He held out his hand and shook Eric's. "By the way - the name's Ryo. Ryo Kawasaki. Pleasure to meet you."

With that, he headed down the street, walking as silently as he could.
They walked for almost twenty minutes without running into anyone, before Ryo suddenly stopped outside an apartment complex. He looked up, and said: "This is where I live. Stay outside and keep an eye out, will you? If you see any zombies, just hide. I'll be along shortly."

He opened the door and stepped inside. There was an eerie silence, and Ryo didn't break it as he walked up the stairs to the third floor. He found the door to his and Rose's apartment, unlocked it, and stepped inside, exhaling in relief as he locked the door behind him, certain no zombies were in HIS apartment.

He threw the baseball bat aside, walked right throught he hallway and into his bedroom. There, he found the gray steel locker along one wall, quickly turned the combination lock and pulled it open, and then hesitated. A walnut-red wooden case was placed inside the locker, and on it a chinese dragon had been burnt into the wood, in ebon-black lines. Under it, his name was written. Slowly, he reached out and took the case, bringing it to the bed as he opened it.

Inside rested a pair of chromed AMT AutoMag IV, chambered for caliber .45 Winchester Magnum. Their grips were customized, and a chinese dragon of exceptional craftsmanship had been adorned on each side of each gun. These were the "Twin Dragons", which had reaped so many lives back in his days in New York.

He changed clothes to jeans and a white shirt. Then, he took out the shoulder holster from the locker, strapped it on, and then placed them in the holsters, after making sure they were loaded. Finally, he took on a long black coat, with the sleeves rolled up, placed two ammunition boxes in the pockets, along with the four spare mags that were already loaded, and rested inside the locker. With that, sunglasses covering his eyes, he soon stepped back out to the street, drawing his two guns, ready to put them to good use.

"Let's go." He said. "Let's find some survivors. I'll cover your back so you just keep your eyes open."

He looked up at his young daughter who was standing there innocently with their dog Annie.

"sit down next to me" he said "I dont know how to tell you this but." he started to stutter.

"its okay dad, im nine years old" she said, than she sat down next to him and wept also.

"Honey" he said a few minutes after they were done weeping "we can visit mommy all the time, just right now we have to get out of here, can you get breakfast for Annie and yourself while I get the truck packed? She nodded and went into the house silently. He walked into the barn and started to pick up whatever seeds and soil bags of soil and all the usefull things he could and pack them into his tuck.

god this is going to be a long confusing day he thought.

Ryo suddenly threw himself against the wall, dragging Eric with him as he did. His left hand extended along the wall, and followed one of the zombies along the barrel. He held his fire, until something caught their attention, and they turned their eyes towards the two. One of the monsters roared, until Ryo's pistol blew apart his head, followed by a barrage of fire that ripped apart the bodies of the others. Ryo didn't bother aiming - he knew more were on the way thanks to the gunshots.

"Let's go!" He yelled as he began to run.

He looked at the car in the morning light, He had all his extra seeds. 10 bags of top soil. a shovel, a sickle, toolbox and any other objects that looked useful enough to use. He looked at the back of his old pickup truck and sighed.

This will be our new life, for the time being our life will begin and revolve around this old beater pickup truck

He went inside to find the rest of supplies he needed. He went inside and found a piece of paper and a pencil and started to think. He couldn't think of a single item. His wife always used to make fun of him, when the pressure was on he did one of two things. He snapped and found himself doing something he would never do in a million years or he waited two long and found the solution to late.

He did what his wife would have told him to do if she were standing right there, he whistled. And as he did so his problems instantly flew away on the flat tune coming out of his mouth. He jotted notes down and ran off into the house in a twitter. He grabbed both of his and his wife's matching suitcases and started to fill both of them with all of his clothes. At the bottom of the final drawer he found a small silk wrapped object.

He picked up the object and unwrapped the silk, a shining never used hunting knife was shown. He attached the sheath to his belt and covered up the knife, not sparring a second to reminisce. He moved his suitcases to the back door and started to pack his daughters affects.

He walked into the kitchen holding two bags of dog food to find his daughter messily eating a bowl of cereal.

"can you get Annie's collar and leash while I get everything into the truck?"

She nodded as he moved sluggishly towards the door. He dumped the dog food into the bed of the truck and bent down to pick up the suitcases. He suddenly heard a high pitched scream. another zombie had found its way into his home and now was close enough to his daughter.

Time to move he said to himself and he ran into his house.

He pulled the knife from its sheath and ran as fast as he could, he scanned the kitchen as he got in and he noticed that his daughter was stuck in the corner, presumably surprised by the zombie with no time to react. Annie the dog was growling and barring its teeth at the new unknown invader.

With skill unknown to him he bounded through the room and over the three and a half feet tall counter and slipped the knife under the neck and up into the brain of the slimy undead creature. All movement ceased and the monster became suddenly a dead weight and almost landed on top of him. He sat there panting and looking at his daughter.