<strong>June 1 (Day 10), 8:55 p.m. - Mall, Downtown New Angeles</strong><br/><br/>Willie had spent a good part of the day causing a stir.<br/><br/>His ATV wasn't exactly silent, and he learned quickly when he met his first wandering dead, that they seemed to take a liking to the sound of it. So much so, that as he passed any of them, they'd turn, and start following him. At first, it was kinda fun - he gunned the thumb-throttle and zipped around them easily enough, but like a swarm of human-sized moths, they'd turn and start following him, moving slowly at first, but then they'd break into a jog, and then a run. But as he put more distance between himself and them, they would simply lose interest and move off, or find some other distraction in their everlasting search for food.<br/><br/>As he drove on, Willie even made a fun game of it. He lured one small group of zombies near an overpass. Then, he drove down the other side and headed back to the original side. The zombies on the overpass itself would turn, and try to make their way towards the freshmeat on the ATV... and they would promptly fall over the edge to crash onto the pavement below, bodies impacting the pavement below with meaty thuds.<br/><br/>"Apparently, their sense of judgement is a bit inhibited," Willie said to himself. "Kinda like being high. Hmm."<br/><br/>He noted with increasing awareness, though, that these zombies were -tough-. The same zombies that leaped from the overpass, landed with a sickening crunch, and then -continued- to try to move, broken limbs still slowly churning, heads still tilted to look at him. Willie almost felt sorry for them - until he remembered that they fed on human flesh. But his sense of... pity?... was strong enough that he approached the badly damaged zombies, and with the butt of his rifle and some vigorous effort, he put them out of their misery.<br/><br/>With that thought in mind, he swiftly dug through his pack and found the bundle of weed sealed up in the large ziploc. He had thought he might use it as 'currency' if it came down to it. He was SURE that, despite all that happened, EVERYONE would still want weed, right? But as he learned later that day, even people who were still living weren't all that friendly.<br/><br/>He had heard gunshots, and made his way down a side street of an outlying neighborhood when he saw a group of young latinos finishing off a small group of walking dead. It was like something out of a war movie. Amongst the group, a woman was screaming at the top of her lungs, being dragged away from the fray by two other men. Was she in trouble? Were they planning ill deeds against the woman? Or could she have been a relative of one of the dead that the other men had just ripped apart with their pistols? He didn't have much time to think about it, as the men eventually heard him approaching, turned, and began shooting at -him-.<br/><br/>With no other option, Willie gunned his four-wheeler and sped past - leading the sizable group of walking-dead right into the band of latinos. Screams and more gunfire erupted behind him, but he just kept on going. He felt bad for a moment about it - but mostly for that lady. He hoped she was alright. But, he didn't really hold much hope for anything anymore.<br/><br/>Remembering directions from a trip here a few years previous was tough, but eventually he caught some street-signs that indicated the direction to the Mall. He breathed a sigh of relief, as the needle on his ATV tank was dangerously close to E again, and the last three gas stations he passed were CRAWLING with Walkers. The sun was also low in the sky, casting long, ominous shadows as he rode.<br/><br/>Soon, the mall came into view, and he pulled to a stop on the very outskirts of the mall itself, withdrawing his binoculars from his pack. There were Walkers -everywhere-. He could see groups of them clustered at the main entrances in sight, trying to get in. Obviously, they couldn't, so chances were good that there were still people inside, people who had barricaded the doors and such. Or... the 'outbreak' had taken place at night and the mall had simply been closed, and there wasn't a soul left alive in the place.<br/><br/>Looking behind him, a trio of zombies that had followed him the past mile or so were getting steadily closer. The sun was going down. He was almost out of gas, and was low on options. He wiped his forearm across his brow, sweat thick and not with just a little bit of fear mixed in. He glanced westward, the sun already set, darkness enveloping the land like a black velvet blanket. A few of the mall's external lights had come on, as well as a good number of street-lights, probably on timers and whatnot, and at the very least, emergency lighting so that he could still see the massive building before him.<br/><br/>"All or nothing, Willie," he muttered to himself as he straddled the seat of his ATV again. "All or nothing."<br/><br/>He gunned the throttle and set a pace down the street and into the parking garage, which was mostly empty of vehicles. Swerving around the Walkers was easy enough, and soon he was up by the mall structure itself. The engine sputtered, and the vehicle shuddered, and all around him, more and more of the dead were making their way in his direction as the ATV was obviously nearing an empty tank.<br/><br/>"Shit!" he said, and suddenly swerved to his right, into a loading-dock area. There was a door there as well as a wide loading dock entrance that was closed, but was the corrugated kind that rolled upward. He brought the ATV to a skidding halt and leaped off, his pack across his back with his rifle, and dashed up the steps to the loading ramp. The door was locked. He pounded brutally for a moment, and began to shout.<br/><br/>"Live one! I'm alive! Open the door if you can hear me!" he shouted, but was only met with silence and the soft moans of the dead behind him, jogging and running closer. He moved to the garage door, solid metal, and began trying to pull upward on it, with no use. The sounds of zombies got closer, the moans, the hungry dead and the grisly end of his life getting nearer. He pounded on the metal door, shouting for help, but still, no one came.<br/><br/>He turned and noticed without much effort that he was penned-in now, as at least a couple dozen dead filled in the entrance to the dock area behind him, blocking his exit. Then, just to his right, he saw his salvation - a utility ladder bolted to the side of the building lead up to the roof - but the bottom of the ladder was about twelve feet off the ground, to keep kids or other wanderers from using it.<br/><br/>"I bet the designer didn't have walking-fucking-DEAD in mind when he made that," Willie muttered to himself, sweating, heart racing, but he didn't see any other way. As fate would have it, his ATV had come to a stop fairly close to the wall. Immediately, he made his decision, and leaped from the dock and dashed the few feet to his ATV, the nearest zombies now a few paces away.<br/><br/>Up onto the ATV he jumped, then reached for the bottom of the ladder.... just a foot or so out of his reach. He jumped once, and though his fingers brushed the metal of the bottom rung, he couldn't hang on. Then he jumped twice even as a hand came to rest on his calf.<br/><br/>"FUUUCK!" he screamed, turning and applying the heel of his other boot to the face of the offender, sending the Walker sprawling with a crushed nose. Then he turned and jumped again with a defiant cry, and his fingers just caught the rung, and quickly solidified his grip. He pulled himself up, then, just as a small swarm of Walkers surrounded his ATV, some of them crawling over it, falling and tripping as other dead pushed and tried to ascend the small vehicle as well.<br/><br/>Slippery fingers and palms gripped the rung with all his might, and slowly, he pulled himself up. A moment later, he reached the next rung... then the next... and he was suddenly thankful for all those pushups he had done through the years in preparation for battling The Man. Another rung, then his feet were on the bottom one, and once his balance was restored, he quickly ascended to the roof. Gathering his breath, he took stock of the situation, seeing that the rooftops as far as he could see were clear. His eyes settled on the door that led into the building, and he made his way to it.<br/><br/>He tried the handle, but it was locked. He cursed, and then pulled forth his trusty Rambo knife, popped the end of the handle off, and poured out the contents into his hand. Two of the items were long, slender metallic tongs, made of stainless steel and durable.<br/><br/>He knelt before the lock and began to work at it.<br/><br/>"More useful training in preparation for The Man," he muttered to himself as he worked. It took him awhile, but eventually the victorious 'click' could be heard and the door swung open.<br/><br/><br/><br/>