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"Marcus. Do you need any help? We are willing to help. We have nothing better to do.You have all of the surivors pretty much rounded up." "Martin Come here."

Zeke snorted.
"Yes sir."
He said in a higher pitched voice and a salute.
"Just don't look---"
Before he could finish the truck's engine revved louder to drown out Zeke's lame joke.
"Fine... Ya impatient b*****d."
Zeke chuckled, he lifted his foot and the bike was moving again. Zeke's tongue touched around his dry mouth. He mentally griped that Kevin was a water hog, even though he was the one to take more drinks than his companion.

They finally got straight into the city. The buildings were quite large compared to the towns they saw the last week. This definately was a major city, and major cities equal major shopping centers. Zeke lifted a 2-way radio on his belt and quickly spoke into it.
"This city may be packed. We should just resupply completely here."
The bike hit a chunk of concrete and began to swerve, in an attempt to steady the bike he brought his hand down to catch the handlebar, in the attempt the radio slipped from his grip and smashed down on the concrete, a crack behind him gave the signal that Kevin ran it over. This was the third time. Zeke sighed, now riding in silence. Luckily they had quite a few leftover in the back, mostly if they were to break them or if they found other survivors.

Zeke swerved around a lost and confused infected, a thud behind him indicated Kevin's usual habit of introducing his beloved truck.
"What does that make now...? 564?"
he asked himself. They had a competition going of who could kill the most infected, Kevin had all of the tallys in the truck. Zeke was only about 30 kills behind. When he plugs his chainsaw into the portable generator they have stored in back then he's a beast. Speaking of which, he should remind himself to charge the generator while they're here, hopefully there's power.

The infected wasn't very dense in this area, they may be huddled near survivors somewhere else in the city, but signs of the dead in the street would indicate that survivors have been through here. Zeke slowed his bike to a stop at a gas station. They already had a full tank of gas in store behind the truck but two of the tanks were empty, might as well see if they could scrape up any leftovers. He shut down his bike and hopped off it, waiting for Kevin to park and dismount, as well.

Zeke shook his head. He saw the smirk on Kevin's face. In response to it, Zeke put up his middle finger and started walking over to the 4x4. He reached into the back and pulled out a crowbar, used mostly for bringing up the small openings into the tank of gas below the station.
"Syphoning is all yours. I did it last time."
He said, handing the other man the crowbar.
"I'm gonna go check inside."
With that he moved inside the station. A single infected. Lifting a broken wooden handle from his belt he began to beat the middle-aged woman in the head. Each his sent her staggering but as far as killing a zombie goes, he wasn't getting anywhere. He began to back up as he looked for objects nearby he could use, the best thing that could get into his grip was a can soda. He picked it up and threw it, it exploded sending sticky carbonized drink all over the zombie's face and floor. That didn't work.
"I'm very bad at being a survivor."
Zeke sighed to himself and turned and began searching other isles. He could've used his gun but he didn't want to draw unwanted attention. Finally, he saw something, a microwave! Lifting the device he tried to move with it but the cord tugged him back. Yanking as hard as he could he pulled the cord out of the wall and ran to where the zombie was. He made sure he applied enough power, the microwave crashed down on the woman's head, she fell to the floor, unmoving. Making sure to be thorough, Zeke began kicking and stomping then jumping on her head. When he was satisfied he continued his stroll through the store.

Zeke left the store carrying two boxes of energy drinks. Made him piss like Niagra Falls but they did help with energy. He placed the two boxes into the back of the truck and watched Kevin.
"There's some more stuff inside. You can help me when you're finished."
He chuckled. The door of the gas station opened again, revealing a very beaten woman.
"God damnit, will you die?"

Kevin didn't leave his spot, however he did place his fire-axe back into the truck as he took the crowbar. Waiting for Zeke to come back he relaxed his back on the side of the truck and listened to what Kevin could only call "Zeke-improvising" because it was more than likely the worst improvision he had ever watched - it was funny as hell though.

When Zeke returned with the energy drinks Kevin simply watched as the shadow of the zombie Zeke had been battling with made it's appearance at the entry to the store. "Oh by the way, I ain't goin' into no dank-a** basement to syphon this s**t, that's your job - I'm more of the head crushin' fridge raidin' variety" Kevin remarked as he rushed at the zombie, making a nice hole in it's skull as the crow bar got stuck. "Ah ******** I hit her too hard, help me yank this out" Kevin spoke while laughing, unfortunately he never came close to the brain as he hit her just under the chin so if the zombie got back up... it would be very problematic...

Maryse looked up and saw, in the distance, a great wall with no end in sight. In the light of the setting sun, she could see something glinting atop the wall. A lot of somethings. "That's it!" she said, nearly jumping out of her seat in excitement, "That's got to be it!"

The Greater Toronto Area had once been home to about 7 million people. Maryse wondered, almost absently, how many of those people were still alive.

When the zombies appeared, the world fell into utter chaos. Civilization failed. Social order evaporated. The rich and the powerful, along with their families, friends, and associates, disappeared, isolating themselves inside bunkers and secure areas across the world. The police and the military disbanded. The people were left to fend for themselves. Some of them became looters, bandits, common street thugs. The rest became victims. Cities became battlegrounds, scattered groups of citizens fighting to defend barricaded areas from both zombies and human renegades. As the cities were picked clean, the zombies fanned out into suburban neighborhoods, then into rural homes and farmhouses. Neglected machines broke down or blew up. Nuclear meltdowns and other industrial accidents became common, polluting the landscape with toxic chemical byproducts. Communication and transportation collapsed. Over time, the fires died, the explosions ceased, and the screams faded. Survivors began to run low on supplies, forcing them to face the zombies during foraging missions, evacuations, or battles driven by desperation and insanity.

Fortunately for them, the remnants of the government and the military strove to set up safe zones and strongholds in which survivors could seek refuge.

Maryse had opinions—strong opinions—but she was more than willing to keep them to herself. She was more than willing to submit to martial law if it meant food, if it meant shelter, if it meant a nice hot shower with soap and water. If it meant sound sleep. If it meant safety.

"If ya dont mind me saying man why didnt you tell me about this earlier.I got several cans you can have for five minutes of hot water."Damon had learned that when it came down to it the world was all about trading."I really got to get this Zombie blood and all the other s**t off me its so gross."

"Fair enough but i owe you something.so where is this shower?"Damon said stretching.the area was clear and free of zombies currently.

(Sorry, I meant to say sunrise, my bad)

"Good, 'cuz if it ain't we're walking. We'll have barely enough gas to make it to the wall, if we're lucky we'll be able to get just inside the gate, we're running on fumes."

Richie was glad to see the wall. And that it was still in good order from this distance. He was ready to take a shower and live safe behind the walls. He just hoped that the inside of GTA was filled with zombies, the humans being overrun, and then he and Maryse would drive up and be out of gas and surrounded by zombies. Richie shook his head, dismissing the thought. He had to stay positive.