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Name: Barry Souder
Nickname: Croc
Age: 17
Ethnic: 50% Scottish, 50% German
Sexuality: Straight
Vehicle: M117 Ogre
Duffle Bag :
-9 clips of ammunition
-3 rolls of duct tape
-$7.25
-shaving razor
-letter from missing girlfriend
-7 packs of gum
-2 packs of hotel matches
-LED flashlight
-8 AA batteries/4 AAA batteries
Weapon(s):
-butterfly knife
-M1A3 greaser
Disabilitie(s):
-deaf in left ear
-50% range of motion in left thumb
-lower back muscles healing from tear
Personality:
-quiet until spoken to
-talks to himself when alone
-enjoys helping people
-determined to survive
Habits:
-chewing gum
-biting his nails
-always looking over his shoulder
-cracking his knuckles
Likes:
-gum
-root beer
-rugby
-peanut butter
-hot weather
Dislikes:
-loud voices
-the loss of his iPod
-cats
-pricks
-kazoos
-thieves
-difficulty in finding gum
Family Status:
Mother and Sister - should be together, missing
Father - not at home, most likely ran away, missing
Bio:
Barry grew up in an Illinois suburb and did nothing but wrestle and watch over his 9-year-old sister. When he was 17, Barry left the state to attend a wrestling camp in Wisconsin. It was during his absence when the infection spread. After learning about the evacuations, Barry hijacked one of the coaches cars and drove down south to his home. He found nothing but empty homes, corpses, and the occasional walker. The combination of fear and anger forced his body to react. Barry grabbed his duffle bag out of the stolen, broken-down car and ran for his home. Nobody was there.

Trying to stay light and conserve gas, Barry loaded up his blue, M117 Ogre mini-chopper and drove south to find his father that had been staying in a hotel close to the border of Chicago. Luckily, everyone and everything was either deeper in the city or heading further south. Once Barry brought his motorcycle in the lobby, he could already tell that the hotel would be barren. Once he reached for a multi-purpose key from behind the counter, he ran to his father's small, cramped room. Again, he was alone, and coped with it by grabbing a root beer from the fridge, taking a swig, and falling asleep on the bed, hoping it was all a bad dream.

Name: Martinez

Rank: Col beck
ethnic Latin , Native American
Sex* straight
Faction; Raven wood

Armor
Bullet proof Ballistic vest
Vest Clip holder
Fifteen 5.56mm clips

Left Side holster
9mm M9

Weight
952 g (33.6 oz)
1,162 g (41.0 oz) loaded
Length 217 mm (8.5 in)
Barrel length 125 mm (4.9 in)
Cartridge 9x19mm Parabellum
Action Short recoil
Muzzle velocity 381 m/s (1,250 ft/s)
Effective range 50 m
Feed system 15 round detachable box magazine
Sights Iron sights


Right side leg pack
Six 9mm clips
one first aid kit
Satellite communication radio
l.E.D long life flash light

Weapon

M4 Carbine

Weight 6.36 lb (2.88 kg) empty
6.9 lb (3.1 kg) with 30 rounds
Length 33 in (840 mm) (stock extended)
29.75 in (756 mm) (stock retracted)
Barrel length 14.5 in (370 mm)
Cartridge 5.56×45mm NATO
Action Gas-operated, rotating bolt
Rate of fire 700–950 round/min cyclic[1]
Muzzle velocity 2900 ft/sec (884 m/sec)[2]
Effective range 500 m for a point target and 600 m for an area target[3]
Feed system 30 round box magazine or other STANAG Magazines.
Sights Iron or various optics

Likes

Killing both dead and living, Vodka , rum, Money

Dislikes

Living hits

Family Status:
All Dead

Bio

No one knows the life of the martinez but some know he used to been a US Navy seal for eight years but didn't retire from war he joined Raven wood a private contracting company that been in service since Vietnam. After the outbreak happened Martinez and Fourteen other mercs were called in after the police was overrun to kill the mayor and his family to get he keys to a code to a bunker which could be set up as a base of operations for the mercenaries that were operating in Chicago .