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University

Winnifred Opal was awake at her usual time: early. Things were needed done, of course. Food needed found, supplies needed organized... and many other things she didn't really want to think about quite yet.

"Life marches on." The words were low, a little whisper she'd found herself saying more than once. It was true, she could see, as she looked around her. Others had survived. The world hadn't gone up in flames, as far as she knew. Though she knew that if it had, the Earth would fix itself eventually. That was the magic of the whole thing, that little rock they all rode around the sun on.

Winnifred Opal missed the sun. Day still happened, the sun was still there, but it was all different now. Different and surreal.

Strange what humans can adapt to, she told herself. Again, it was something she'd said before. "It's inspiring, too."

With a yawn, the little lady stretched, and then decided it was time to start her day.

[ Dorms ]

There was hope, somewhere buried deep in her heart as the faint grey light leaked into the windows as if it going to spend all day raining. It wouldn’t, but a part of wish it would, at least it would hold some promise in seeing the sun one day again. The worse was the lack of singing, despite living most of her life in the suburb she missed the sound of birds chirping outside, screeching at one another for attention. Harper closed her eyes and pressed her head against the cool wall, one day she would open her eyes and something of normality would return.

One day.

[Apartments]

You could adjust to anything, once it'd gone on long enough. Life in the apartments was starting to feel like normal, and Micah kind of resented that. There was plenty of work to do, but there were still ********' zombies outside the building, the water had gone to s**t, and a lot of the people stuck in the complex were weird.

But he didn't feel like dying yet, and so every morning he got up and kept working, and this morning was no different.

[Prison] - Joy Ann

Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it---Joy Ann didn't even have to consciously repeat the words to herself anymore, they had become so ingrained with the past thirty days. Life, or some semblance of it, had gone on, blessedly secure, and fortunately not too gross. Heck, with her mantra she'd even been able to eventually take a turn pushing whatever remained of the bodies off of the fences, even if she had gone and puked in her horribly exposed cell toilet afterwards. Then she had had to deal with the stench of the vomit mixed with the tinny, gross water for days.

Things were looking out if not up though; she was learning. She now knew to vomit in a corner of the yard instead of her cell, and she was making herself a little useful in the mess hall. Thankfully no one had killed her yet, and the slight scratch she had gotten the other day didn't seem to be turning her into a zombie or whatever it was that was persistently attacking them. At least there was that, right? ...as long as she didn't think about it.

[ University ]

He missed his car.

It was still out there, somewhere: the windows mostly smashed in, blood staining the the back seat and a great tear in the expensive, plush leather that he'd taken such care to keep clean in better days. It sat abandoned and unloved, in a part of the district that wasn't quite safe enough, not quite smart enough, to go check on it.

Not that there was any gas left, anyway. That was long gone. But Austin missed it anyway.

This certainly wasn't the life he'd ever wanted or signed on for. He'd grown up in the lap of luxury with no expectation that it would ever change, a path laid out in front of him. A hiccup here and there, a year repeated in high school, but all the same, there were only about six years left. Finish at the university, getting exceptional grades by any means necessary, mostly based in cold hard cash. Move on to a first rate law school, maybe in the states because travel sounded exciting, better than staying in this city for more time than he needed to. A job from one of his father's friends, or perhaps a friend of one of his father's friends, someone who could set him up to bring in more money.

Down the line there would be a family, because they expected him to have a family. A wife who stayed at home, who did charity events, who took care of the kids, and produced more who were just like him: sent to private school as soon as they had the wits to resent it, pushed to excel, told they were the best.

Austin didn't realize he'd been a wheel on a cog, an endless cycle of the rich getting richer, and maybe this break in the routine should have shaken him out of it and woken him up to better and brighter things in the world. Unfortunately, it just made him want to go back and reclaim the easy life he'd had before.

Nowhere in any of his plans had infection and uncertainty fit in, nor having to scavenge for food and water, fighting monstrosities that had once been human. Competing for a shower and wearing second hand clothes, pants with holes in the knees that hadn't been put there by Chinese factory workers, battered army boots and glasses that weren't quite the right prescription. He hated it.

And he missed his car.

[Prison: Shaun Sawyer]

Happy birthday, Shaun

He thought sarcastically as he woke up. Not many 18 year olds could say they got a zombie apocalypse for their birthday and, well, since it was ongoing, that just meant every day was his goddamn birthday, wasn't it?

Shaun stretched in his cell, smiling wanly. Well, not really, though it might as well be. He'd be lucky to see his 19th birthday, and - despite generally being optimistic about life in general - he didn't think there was much of a chance of that.

So, might as well hang on to any day as if it was his birthday... it might, after all, be his last. He stepped out the door and greeted the hallway with a much bigger smile. Well, on to the next day, then!

[PRISON]

It's been a month, a very slow month, and he only with that the time can go by faster. Although what did made the time go by faster was working out behind bars, and he's here with his brother when he got caught from stealing. What luck, but at least it's something and he can keep his only eye on him.

And that was the last of his luck . . .

Something happen on this day that made once slow time go by so fast. Life just seem to collapse now, much like the electricity did. This had made him worry for his dumbass brother yet again, going after him to make sure that he's alive and in one piece for they are the only family. Even if he has to carry the idiot over his shoulder (which he had done) to save his a**. Someone had to get infected, and near where they are. "Get your a** over here . . ." They need to be safe, and it was ironic that being behind bars will keep them safe from hell on the outside.

[ University ]

Wallowing was not something Gillian did. No, that was a waste of time, and thought, when efficient methods could take place. He was a man of action, and getting things done. So with this new series of events that'd transpired and left him in the state he was now in... well heck, what a majority of people were in, he buckled down to get things as sorted and situated as possible.

There were important priorities and necessities that had to be acquired and worked out, along with making sure others weren't being idiots and ruining the crisis that they were all thrust into. Nothing like having a haywired fool mess up, or tip the delicate balance of sanity that remained for a pack of survivors in a decaying land. While he had his pride, he knew it was better for there to be strength in numbers, and for the whole to stay together as best as possible, and to work together to endure.

Seven days, they'd said. Just seven days til help would arrive. He was skeptical, and not fully trusting, but that would all be revealed on the destined day. So for now, preparations were in order. He didn't stop very often, only resting the minimum required, scribbling away in his notepad diligently, briskly moving about to gather information, sometimes even muttering under his breath to himself.

So much to do, so much to do...