Tour Peachtree,
Alanta (Géorgie)
États-Unis d'Amérique
Brian était couché là au soleil, sa chaleur se répandant sur lui alors que ses amis nageaient dans la piscine parmi les flotteurs. Rire maniaque alors qu'ils s'éclaboussaient l'eau, Brian sourit à lui-même. Leur rire enfantin maniaque résonna autour de lui comme le bavardage du feu de fusil - il prit la dernière de sa limonade fraîche et la versa sur ses lèvres sèches, quelques gouttes tombaient et leur touche fraîche disparut bientôt.
Brian a ouvert les yeux.
Le soleil se levait juste au-dessus de la ville et ses rayons se cramponnaient autour du pilier de pierre à sa droite et striés sur son visage éveillé. Au-dessous de lui dans les rues, il entendit des coups de feu l'un après l'autre, se déchirant à travers la chair infectée, ou peut-être juste la chair normale. Brian n'espérait pas.
Les humains s'évanouissaient, toute la ville se taisait eerly pour la plupart. Certains jours, Brian ne faisait que son souffle et le son de ses pas pour le tenir compagnie. Levant ses mains de dessous, il roula, clignotant comme une goutte d'eau impactée sur sa joue. En l'essuyant de son visage, il s'assit les bras derrière lui et lui enfila le cou en arrière jusqu'à ce qu'il entende le clic satisfaisant. Tombé sur son dos une fois de plus, il roula sur son devant et se poussa de haut en bas. Il avait installé un camp au sommet de la tour, un bon point de vue et beaucoup d'air frais pour les poumons. Tout l'endroit avait été sous maintenance donc il a monté l'échafaudage, presque tomber quelques fois, il a pris la corde que les constructeurs avaient utilisé pour tirer un seau, et a pris tout le chemin jusqu'au sommet. En l'attachant à l'un des piliers et en le serrant d'une autre corde, il fit une belle petite prise en main sûre lorsqu'il descendit au niveau de la rue.
Aujourd'hui était le jour où Brian avait décidé de s'aventurer dans la tour. Il savait que les deux étages supérieurs devraient être vides parce qu'ils étaient fermés et non utilisés, mais on ne sait jamais. En prenant le seau sous la goutte d'eau dans le coin gauche, il éclaboussait l'eau sur son visage et recherchait aveuglément sa serviette. Ses mains balayant sur son sac à dos, il a saisi le matériau doux et l'a tenu à son visage, en épongant les perles d'eau maintenant sale et en pressant les restes de sa barbe. Mousse de rasage. Brian a réfléchi.
J'ai besoin d'une mousse à raser.
Name: Brian Whisdell
Age: 27
Personality: Prefering to keep things low key Brian hates any kind of bully. He doesnt get overly emotional about much, except seeing others get hurt in which case he will usually drop all sense of logic to try and help. Always approaching zombies with patience and precision Brian has a tendency to take his time, making sure to be as quiet as possible.For example: if there was a building to clear Brian would go in from the roof first, climbing the fire escape to the top and slowly making his way down room by room. This way only he was in danger. He likes to think of himself as a good samaritan - a gentleman.
Occupation: Criminal, Brian was a small time thief who stole from rich families homes and gave the money/valuables to the kids of the orphanage he grew up in. He was in prison when it began, a guard he had come to be friends with set him free.
Equipment: 
Sweats and trainers.   Black trainers, grey sweats. 
Semi-elastic long sleeve shirt.  
Grey hoodie  
Pocket bandolier around left side chest  
Inventory: 
Water proof Sleeping Bag strapped to back-pack.
One small cooking pan, two 1/2litre water bottles, spare clothes and a hatchet.
A Map of the city and a few packets of food (imperishable).
A toothbrush and towel.Crystaline anti-perspirent.
A wallet with a no money in it, only an old picture of himself and friends.
Assortment of various stolen jewelry.
Weapons:
Pistol with 3 extra magazines.

Improvised spear.

Concealed flip knife

Background: Growing up an orphan was hard for Brian. While he made some close friends he was also bullied persistantly at his school which would lead to fights. This went on for years until one day (after he heard that his friend had just been adopted) Brian had had enough and didnt even give the bullies a chance to throw their first insult before he threw his first punch. After knocking one clean out and leaving the other two bruised and bloody Brian was given a weeks detention, which gave him time to 'think' and to heal his own wounds.
Realising the system was against him already, he set out to balance the odds, and began to find other bullies from other schools - teaching them a lesson. Finding that the rich were too rich, Brian would steal from various houses around his area, minor things at first. All through his life he moved from place to place stealing as he went. He fell into a dark circle for a few years, a group of less than kind men, who didnt just steal but killed. Brian has nothing to thank them for except a generally good knowledge of fire arms and blades.
With that behind him Brian had returned to his home, settling down in a hotel room which he kept modest and clean, paying his rent on time so as not to be suspicious; giving what he didn't need to the orphanage he had grown up in. When he was pulling a second job on the first house he had ever hit, (thinking they were still as easy a target as they were) turns out the sneaky shits had installed a fancy security system. After a close escape and an over-roofs chase Brian had no where else to run, so snuck the jewelry he had stolen into the hidden section of his bag and gave himself up.
He had been in prison for around 5 months when it all began, after a few days some of the policeman along with some civilians barricaded themselves into the station. Freddie, a guard he had become friendly with set him free to go and find the group some food and water. When Brian returned the whole place was empty with no sign of a struggle except for a few drops of blooding leading into the jail cells. There he found Freddie, a zombie, feasting on one of the inmates Jake. Taking the gun from the compartment under the main desk, Brian shot Freddie pointblank and then Jake for safety. Quickly taking the flip knife he knew Jake had hidden on him, he escaped just in time, before the zombies the shots had attracted fell upon the station.