(do i join here?)<br/>Name: Trevor Kihara<br/>Age: 21<br/>Profession: Firefighter<br/>Prefered weapons: Hammer-weaponary, close-range firearms, pistols.<br/><br/>The Klaxon roused Trevor from his state of rest. The automated voice crooned over the speakers, "Attention all personel, to the nearest bunker. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill." Trevor rolled off the bed and scooped up a automatic rifle, the AK-47, not his preference but needed to keep distance from a mob.<br/><br/>Trevor kicked open the door and beat his way to the exit. Aim for the heads. Trevor unleashed a spray of poorly-aimed shots at a mass of shiffling creatures. Trevor sprinted and vaulted over a low wall. He missed his footing and landed shakily. There was a low man beside him and he insinctively brought the gun up. The movement knocked the teeth of a zombie, but the undead siezed his shoulders and brought its jaws back, aiming for the throat.<br/><br/>Trevor sidestepped the bite and shoved the body onto the frozen ground and fired off a dozen shots into the skull, with one for good measure. The silence was broken by radio chatter, "Holy shi- no- get it off me!" "Keep shooting, even if your fingers drop off!" "Alpha two engaging mob in close combat." "How the hell did they get here?!" "Get in the safe house!"<br/><br/>Safe house? More like a death trap, Trevor held up his tanned arms as he approached the bunker. "Get in!" hollered a voice from the elevated structure. The zombies will never tire of hunting down their prey, which means, they would wait out their hiding victims or wear the door hinges out. Trevor shouted into the radio, "No! Go the the bunkers, not safe houses! Seal all rooms if you see them! We don't want no zombie lurking in the sleeping quarters!"