<div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide</div><div class="spoiler_body">(http://blog.friendster.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/Human-Warrior.png)</div></div><strong>Name:</strong>Dean<br/><strong>Location:</strong>One Shot Only (His gun shop)<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Midmorning-Noon (somewhere in time! Great Iron Maiden album!)<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Open<br/><hr/><br/>Dean hung up after getting mostly the automated response from the 911 line, and looked outside to see what was happening. What was outside? Utter chaos. Vine Street was going to hell, and most of L.A. was sure to follow. "Oh fuck." He said, without thinking. "Fucking hell, Dad. If only you were alive to see this. You were right. You were right all along. Shoulda moved to Washington when I had the fucking chance."<br/><br/>His Dad was a big of a conspiracy nut and a crazy survivalist. No bunker in the middle of the woods, but the man dedicated his free time to surviving any hostile environment. He had told Dean many times that the cities could collapse at any moment. That the American way of living in giant steel mazes could crash at any time. And here it was, proof that Dean Sr. had been right on the money. "This isn't some regular flu, Dad." He looked back at the still warm corpse of Marcus. "I can't get the zombie word out of my head, and now I'm talking to myself. This hasn't been a good morning, has it, me?" He asked.<br/><br/>Whatever was going down, 'zombie' infection or not, Dean needed a plan. Going home would be a good idea. He had supplies there. Extra water, plenty of non-perishables, some guns and ammo, medical supplies, and some booze for special circumstances. However, without him there, that cache was mostly undefended-the guns were in a safe by California law, and the booze was hidden in a back corner, but the food, water, and first aid kit were in the open. And right now, trying to move along the streets would be next to impossible. The police would crack down, because that was always the first move the government made. And being in the open would be a stupid idea. It would expose him to attack.<br/><br/>Plan B was to hole up in the shop. And it was sadly the best course of action right now. A quick punch of the code "1138" into the shutters would cause them to roll down, putting a steel barrier between Dean and the outside world. He had enough food and water for today, and a first aid kit in the shop. Plus, enough guns and ammo to keep himself save. Gathering up a .45 and a pump action Remington 870 (as well as enough ammo to supply them both), Dean would sit and wait for a break in the chaos. He needed to get his gear and formulate an exit strategy. Fleeing into the wilderness, heading North, most likely.