A Single Cabin, A Common Goal (Private for Now; Roo & Smoke)

Feeling pity for the boy, Brooke put a medium but good-sized bowl of baked beans in front of him. She sat down on the old couch across from him, sighing as she felt how nice it was to sit after such a long day (and not on a horse).
"So you got snatched by the quarantiners, huh? I feel bad for you kid, I've heard they're worse than concentration camps were during WWII. You'll be safe with me anyway. Government doesn't go this far out, since there aren't many walkers around here. The one you saw me burning just ruined my catch, so I had to get rid of it and the deer," Brooke explained, honestly meaning the government wouldn't even look out here.

Elliot nodded, tucking into his warm beans. He wasn't the biggest fan of the stuff, but after nibbling on nothing but stale fruitcake for days, a warm meal was a welcomed change.
"I'm not sure I'd go that far," Elliot remarked, remembering his history from school about WWII, "But they are similar. They take your clothes so you can only where the white uniforms they give you. They shave your head, too, and separated from you families and put to work, tending to food supplies, laundry, cleaning...
"But we were never killed, like in the Concentration Camps. Only if you were infected somehow. But I hated it there, me and my brother Callum did. We tried to escape, but... Callum got caught. I don't know what they did with him..."
Elliot scooped up the last of his beans, realizing how long he must've been talking for. "But what about you?" he inquired, curious about the woman's past, "What's your story?"

Brooke blew out a breath as she sat with her legs crossed on the couch, the bowl of beans in her hands.
"My parents were middle-class, so I went to a good college. I was in Marine training -hence the shirt- and came back for the summer when the plague hit. A guy who was half-way through the turning begged us for help, and my parents just thought he had rabies or something. So they brought him in, and soon he was full on zombie. He bit my parents before they could run, and I immediately grabbed my little brother and bolted into the streets.
"Kenneth, my brother, and I got sperated in the panic of the streets. He's a smart and strong kid, so I believe he got away. I don't know though. When I stole someone's truck and came out here, I've only gone back twice for supplies. I need to go to the city again soon anyway, cause I'm running out of supplies. My story isn't very interesting, it's actually really basic," Brooke finished, feeling worse for the kid than herself.

Ooc: Okie Dokie. PM me when I can join. I haven't role played Jay in a thread besides his pre-apocalypse story.

Ooc: Alrighty Kit ;3

Elliot sighed sympathetically and shrugged as he scooped up his remaining beans. 
"Everyone has an interesting story in zombie land," He said, "I'm sorry about your brother. Perhaps he was picked up by someone. Gotta be batter that just being left alone out in a place like this, crawling with walkers."

"I'm far more sorry for your brother. Anyhow, enough with the sob stories. Do you want your dog in here, cause you're sleeping on the couch anyway," Brook spoke, finishing her beans quickly. She stood up as she was talking and had put her bowl in the sink.

"I'm sure Callum will be fine - he'll have escaped another way - I'm sure," Elliot said, reassuring himself more than anything. Deep down, he knew that it was most likely that Callum was still in there, or was even shot whilst trying to escape. But Elliot had gotten good at fooling himself that he was convinced this wasn't true.
Pushing this aside, he copied Brooke in placing his bowl and spoon in the metal sink. "I you don't mind him running around," the boy replied to her question, "He'd settle down after a bit. Besides, he's a great alarm clock if Walkers are about."

"That's not what I'm worried about, really. Walkers around here have begun to adapt; they're taking animals as a substitute for their 'normal diet'," Brooke said, putting air quotes on the last two words.
And it was true. Walkers had changed their taste, even though they still adored human meat. Any type of animal meat they could get their hands on was all they needed to stay alive way out here.

Elliot shrugged nonchalantly, but was secretly relieved to hear the news. Leaving his rucksack on the sofa and slipping back into his boots, the boy exited the cabin and made his way over to the small barn. He pulled back the door and was greeted enthusiastically by Fiver. Pushing the leaping dog away, Elliot patted Rowan on the neck and gave her some hay that he found on the floor of the barn, before locking the building shut so Walkers couldn't get at his horse.
He returned to Brooke in the cabin, letting Fiver crash onto the couch and role around for a bit, waiting for the dog to tire himself out.
"Thanks for letting him come in," Elliot said to Brooke, "He'll calm down in a second, he's just excited."

Brooke gave a small laugh, scratching the dog behind his ear quickly before she sat down on the arm of the cough.
"I don't mind, it's not my bed he's shedding on," She teased the boy. Her mood suddenly became serious before she faced Elliot.
"How do I know I can trust you?" She asked bluntly. Better to ask now than get betrayed later.

Elliot laughed a little at Brooke's joke as Fiver licked her hand playfully. He doesn't usually warm up to people that quickly, the boy thought to himself.
Looking up at Brooke when she asked about 'trust', Elliot stopped himself from asking 'what do you mean?'. He knew exactly what she meant. It was a legitimate question, one that was bound to be asked.
"Well, I'm not a zombie for one," he joked, before trying to be more serious. "And... well, let's just say, I owe you for trusting me this far. And I'm a man of my word, and a man of his word would never betray someone who took him in and fed him when they could so easily have done the opposite."

"A man may be his word, but his word is not always good. But I do believe that you are, so help yourself to the shower -Lord knows you need it- and to the blankets in the cupboard above the fridge," Brooke started off narrowing her eyes, but stood up with a small smile playing on her mouth.

Elliot returned the woman's smile, not convinced she trusted him fully yet, but thankful she wasn't throwing him out nonetheless. Then, hearing what she said about the shower, he sniffed his clothes and agreed with Brooke. He really did need a wash.
After making his way to the shower, Elliot strewn his clothes across the basin so they got a decent wash too. When he was finished and smelling much better, he draped the dripping clothes over the towel rail with a towel underneath to dry and returned to Brooke and Fiver, dressed in his vest and spare shorts.
"I needed that for sure," He said, rubbing a towel over his head, "Thanks. I'll get some blankets out for tonight."
Elliot crossed over to where Brooke had said the blankets where and laid one over the sofa and rolled one up for a pillow.

Brooke nodded, checking the watch in her wrist. It was close to 10 pm, and she had to get up early the next morning.
"We'll, goodnight Elliot, I'm going off to bed. Come get me if you need anything," she said, stretching as she began to WLAN toward her bedroom door.

"Night," Eliot replied, climbing under the blanket and letting Fiver jump up and lie stretched out beside him. They both fell asleep quickly. It'd been a long day of either riding, running or walking, but this was the best bed he had had for a long time.

Ooc: Should we have Walkers attack them in the night or something?

Ooc: I HAVE AN IDEA. What if her parents attacked? O.o

Ooc: Yeah, great idea!! I'm gonna do a little time skip to, say, 3:00am? I feel like I'm powerplaying a little here, so just say if you want to do it instead x3

It was the sound of Fiver's frantic barking that roused Elliot Trewin from his sleep. He had trained himself to be a light sleeper, so if danger were to rear its ugly head, he would be able to leap into action immediately.
"What is it, boy?" he said in a hushed tone. It didn't take long before he realized the problem.
Ten, maybe twenty Walkers were limping hungrily towards the cabin, their eyes white with disease. The clever collie had heard and smelt them coming from a good mile or so off; enough time to get away or barricade the entrances.
"Brooke!" Elliot called, "Brooke, wake up! Walkers!"
Without waiting for an answer, the boy threw his shoes on and crashed through the wooden door, sprinting straight for the barn where he had left Rowan. Throwing the stiff-hinged barn door back, he grabbed the horse's bridle and saddle, hung them on her back and led her by the mane back into the cabin, not wanting these animal-eating zombies get his horse.

Constantly cursing underneath her breath, Brooke easily changed into her pair of daily clothes, grabbing the emergency pack with everything she needed in it. She also grabbed the second one she had, for Elliot.
The brunette bolted out of her back door and into the stables. The Walkers were off by a bit still, and hadn't scented live human yet. But once they did... Brooke didn't want to see their frenzy as they probably got so hungry they would eat themselves.
Her Marine training paid off, as she was calm and ready to take action now. She put the bags on her back, and didn't care that the two backpacks were large together. They were light enough where Rowan would be able to carry the two people no problem.
As she opened up a small compartment underneath the wood floor boards, grabbing out four pistols and a rifle, not to mention her silent-shooter which she typically used for emergencies with Walkers, she walked over to Elliot.
"We need to get on a head Southeast from here. I have an emergency place to stay there," She said, and also offered to carry Fiver while they were on Rowan. She wouldn't be able to run as fast as a galloping horse, and that was what they needed to do. The undead may be slow while walking, but they were faster than Husain Bolt when they caught the smell of fresh flesh.

"Okay, let's just get out of here," Elliot replied, not quite as calm as his companion, but not absolutely frantic yet. He pulled Rowan round so she was facing roughly Southeast, judging by the stars, fastened her saddle and climbed on. He had managed to secure the horse's bridle on well enough, though he was tired, cold and shaking terribly with the adrenaline. But she seemed comfortable enough, shuffling in a panicked frenzy as she sensed the Walkers.
After agreeing with Brooke's offer of holding Fiver, the boy held out his hand for her, hardly able to see her face in the pitchy darkness.

Brooke's face almost slammed into the boy's hand, which would have easily described how she had felt afterward, minus the panic of the Walkers running after her. It was no time for accidental-slaps; she grabbed his hand and hauled herself and Fiver, who wasn't the smallest dog in the world, onto the horse.
"Ready when you are," She said, on hand on Elliot's shoulder, the other arm on Fiver.

Just then, across the wooded heath, a gurgling, choking cry echoed through the trees and reached Elliot's burning ears. "They've picked up our scent!" he stuttered, kicking Rowan on furiously. The running Walkers would be able to keep up a good speed for longer than Rowan could with two people and a dog on her back. The only course of action was to either lose them or pick them off quickly from horseback.
Rowan's large, heavy feet thundered against the ground as the hunting zombies drew nearer. Tree branches either side smacked and clawed at Elliot's face as he fumbled through he rucksack. Finally, the boy pulled out an electric lantern. He found lanterns were better than torches as they let out more light in every direction; and as Elliot never lights fires, his old camping lantern certainly came in handy.
Flicking the power button on the side, the lantern let out an ocean of white light that reached a good few meters around them, plenty of light for Rowan to ride safely at her speed. The Walkers were gaining on them, however, and Elliot had no idea how long they would have to run.

Brooke twisted to face the Walkers, but still ride safely on Rown. Her one arm still wrapped around the dog, she got out her silent-shooter and began firing. This way, the horse wouldn't spook, the dog wouldn't, and other Walkers wouldn't be drawn in.
After firing a few shots, taking down at least five undead with them, Brooke saw something that made her hesitate. Her parents. They were right there, in the crowd of the Walkers. They both were right there. She quickly searched for her brother, to see his fate, but she couldn't find him.
She raised the gun to her parents, whispering in her mind about how this was what they would have wanted. Then she fired tow bullets, and they went down with the rest of them.

Elliot had no idea what Brooke had just done. All he knew was that she seemed to be managing the Walkers whilst he steered Rowan in the right direction. He was about to lose hope in finding this second location when the light from the lantern hit against what Elliot concluded were ruins of a brick house. Stopping himself from saying "how on earth is this going to protect us" when he spied two wooden doors that no doubt lead into an underground cellar, the boy kicked his horse on faster until they pulled up outside the doors.
"You still with me, Brooke," He said, looking round.

"Yup, just took out the last Walker. I need to get more bullets once we get into the cellar. Fiver is fine too, just a bit spooked," And Brooke wasn't joking. The dog looked like she was about to hurl up her lunch. Brooke gave the dog a scratch behind the ear, regaining her grasp on Elliot's shoulder.