July 23rd, Noon; Corner Edge of Fresno Suburbs CA<br/><br/>"Boom! Take that you bitch!"<br/><br/>"Reloading, cover me!"<br/><br/>"Gotcha. Cornholio to whole team we got bogies in North Hall, needing reinforcements... ah shit! They took Delta!"<br/><br/>In the two story house of the Fresno Suburbs, California, resided a group of friends within a home of their own. Eight of them all on a separate screen and PlayStation 4, holding a controller where their fingers vigorously pressed and jabbed at button and joystick. It was noon, a warm and sunny day with beautiful weather, but the house windows were closed allowing little if any light to filter through leaving the environment perfectly dark. Amongst these friends was a Marcus Cline, a man who lived in the mountains on his own, it took maybe two hours to reach the suburbs but he usually had money as he didn't just blindly spend it.<br/><br/>Marcus say focused on the TV without a set of headphones unlike his teammates. He heard a knock at the door and sighed, "I gotta answer that, if I die let me know." He announced.<br/><br/>The man walked down the stairs of the finely furnished home, it had more of a hybrid look of modern and country which looked great compared to a lot of houses. The downstairs was bright, with the blinds open and the noise of someone's lawn being mowed it wasn't the typical quiet Marcus generally experienced back home. Normally his version of quiet were birds and nature. He threw on his white shirt he left on the couch earlier while fixing a car, stained with black smudges of grease and oil. The man didn't have his glasses on but he could see up close which wasn't a problem.<br/><br/>Marcus unlocked the door and opened it, the light causing him to squint slightly but was quickly adjusted to it. Before him was a young woman about her early 20's, clad in high heels with booty shorts, a tight sleeveless shirt that stopped just below her belly button. She had black lipstick and eyeliner that made her look gorgeous already, but the outfit made her look like a whore. If Marcus didn't know who she was he'd be more turned on and shut the door immediately.<br/><br/>"Hey Marcus," She said in a soft sultry tone, "You wanna let me in-"<br/><br/>"Money?" Marcus cut the woman off, completely oblivious to the way she dressed and spoke, "You know that if I take you to work I make you pay. Fifteen dollars fee to downtown, Christy."<br/><br/>The woman or Christy as Marcus called sighed, "Geez, I figured I'd blow you as payment but knowing you..." She stepped inside the cool house pass the man at the door, shutting the door behind her with the heel of her shoe and digging around in her purse.<br/><br/>Marcus frowned as he walked into the kitchen, the light allowing a full view of his dress wear. He sported an oil stained white shirt and blue jeans that had black smudges all over. He washed his hands at the sink and dried them vigorously, turning to Christy asking, "Need anything to drink? Fridge got fixed this morning and it's packed. Also I don't know why you'd blow on me, it's cool enough in here as it is."<br/><br/>Christy faced palmed hard and laughed hard, "Fuck I love you dude... and if you've got bottled water I'll take one."<br/><br/>"Ozarka or Dasini?"<br/><br/>"Either or." Christy replied sitting at the bar of the kitchen that divided it between the kitchen and the living room.<br/><br/>There was a sudden buzz in Christy's purse and she pulled out a small flip phone, opening it and clicking a button before pressing it against her ear, "Hello? Yeah I'm on my way, give me about 30... 40 minutes. Yes I know Malaki, I'll be there just give me some fucking time, I don't clock in till an hour... No I understand. Why the fuck did Jess call in- You know what nevermind, I'll be there as soon as possible, news is talking about possible traffic so I might be a little late."<br/><br/>Marcus pulled out both bottles of water, Dasini and Ozarka, and threw those along with a few granola bars in a lunchbox. He listened to the conversation Christy was having and remained silent. He then stood setting the lunch box on the bar, walking around and sat on the couch. Marcus slid on a pair of boots over his long white socks, tying them tightly and stood up giving Christy a thumbs up. She nodded.<br/><br/>"Alright, alright! I'll be there!" Christy then hung up the phone and threw it in her purse, "What?"<br/><br/>________________________________________________<br/>One Week Later, Fresno Suburbs<br/><br/>It was bright, a little too bright for his taste. Stirring uncomfortably and wriggling his way upward, Marcus's vision was hazy and he was hungry. Extremely hungry and thirsty. He looked around with his vision still blurry and feeling so dizzy, he could feel a pounding in his head. He could also smell blood, old blood that had sat for a long period. He felt around his head and something, a bandage or medical tape, was wrapped around his head. Marcus began to feel flake's come off his cheek and looked at his hand discovering that he'd be the one bleeding. How the hell Marcus ended up... wherever he was with a head injury was beyond him.<br/><br/>The man's vision began to settle in, going from all hazy to near sighted again, he looked around finding that he was in the back of a police cruiser, higher off the ground, so a suburban of sorts. He happened to look down and spotted his glasses, dusty, and picked them up and slid them on. Save for a few spots, he could actually see again. And Marcus saw the empty streets of the once occupied the neighborhood. He reached over to the back door and tried opening it. Locked. He tried the left and it was also locked.<br/><br/>Marcus immediately began searching the back for anything to eat or drink until he'd seen the major blood splatter on the carpet. He saw an opened chest and pushed it to the side, leaning over the back seat until he was able to open the lid. It was a weapons case, sporting a Mossberg 500 shotgun and a Glock 22. He looked out through all the windows and still seen nothing, he'd seen a burned down house, several corpses that lay in the street and even saw bloody handprints and blood splatters along the edges of the windows. Reaching and pulling the shotgun and service pistol Marcus sat them down and checked to see if they had ammo. He slid the Glocks clip out and sure enough there were at least six bullets. He slid it back in then checked the shotgun but to Marcus's dismay there weren't any shells loaded.<br/><br/>The man quickly dug through the case and discovered an ammo bag with four full pistol clips and a 18 pack box of shotgun shells, two tactical flashlights, two tasers, a set of cuffs, and a police baton. But alas no food nor water. He dug the items out and threw it all in the ammo bag, slinging the empty shotgun over his shoulder. The last thing he remembered were people eating each other in the streets, chaos being sewed, and then nothing but black. Whatever happened to him must have been hell, save for the smell of piss on his pants.<br/><br/>"How long was I-" Marcus began to question himself when something slammed into the right side of the back passenger window. A man in a police uniform slammed himself and began to crack the glass, Marcus staring unsure whether to pull the gun or not. Half the officers neck was gone and so was his face leaving a while lot of... yellow ugly?<br/><br/>It wasn't until the officer shattered the window that Marcus finally pulled the gun and shot him twice, the first in the neck then through his left eye socket. How the officer didn't fall on the first blow was beyond Marcus, then again half the neck was missing. He poked his head out the shattered window and stared at the officer. What the fuck was going on? Dead bodies, vacant- well not vacant now streets, and a feral officer with a wound no one could survive.<br/><br/>Marcus carefully grabbed the heavy bag and slid up front, opening the passenger door as he did so and stepped out, hanging a long strap of the bag over the opposite shoulder of the empty shotgun. He looked around, standing in silence for ten minutes before traveling forward down the street. Not too far, he heard the growls of a woman coming near him. Turning the corner he saw a woman with the lower half of her body flattened crawling toward him, and behind from a distance he heard more growls but from several others. Marcus felt his heart began to beat fast, he had no clue what was going on, he didn't know where he was and, "Did I shoot a cop?"<br/><br/>Marcus quickly began to sprint from door to door, knocking frantically at each on. It wasn't until he stopped at another door did he press his ear against, hearing faint, very faint chatting. He began to knock as panic and shock began to set in. He needed to piss, he needed to shit, he was hungry and thirsty and was beginning to freak out that he actually killed someone. He still sported an oil covered white shirt now with died blood, his pants slightly dampened from what could be assumed as piss. His knocks were frequent and began to chant as the growls of few grew closer, "Come on come on..."