Jean est tombé au sol alors que la plate-forme secouait, l'artillerie lourde en prenait le péage. Son évasion à la sécurité était juste en face de lui, et pourtant arriver là semblait être une tâche impossible. Il y a eu des infections, des explosions et une grêle de balles. John resta sur le sol, s'accrochant à l'endroit relativement sûr; le sol était froid sur son visage. Il pourrait se charger du chaos, et prier de ne pas se faire frapper. Ou il pourrait attendre que les soldats viennent à lui, mais s'ils ne l'ont pas fait? Il grogne sans effort, se poussant du sol et sur ses pieds. Il savait qu'il devait courir, atteindre les soldats, et d'une manière ou d'une autre ne pas être touché par une balle perdue. John était reconnaissant, qu'à tout le moins, les infectés n'étaient pas concentrés sur lui, ils étaient occupés avec les Sceaux. Ça lui donnerait quelques secondes de marge de manœuvre.
Avec une profonde respiration, et les yeux tournés vers l'héliport, John est sorti de la porte. Il courut à pleine vitesse, ses traces frappant le sol aussi vite que jamais, mais personne ne pouvait les entendre au-dessus des coups de feu; pas même John. Tout se passait plus vite qu'il ne pouvait le faire, et avant qu'il ne le sache, il y avait un soldat infecté devant lui. Il s'est arrêté brusquement, alors qu'ils l'ont frappé sur le cul. Jean se frotta la mâchoire dans un labyrinthe, la sensation d'un poing s'attarda sur sa joue.
Son sourire dérangé s'est répandu de l'oreille à l'oreille. Il était déjà en train d'élever son bras en arrière, alors qu'il se préparait à une autre frappe; une lueur sauvage dans son oeil.
John foula le sol autour de lui, il avait largué son fusil dans la confusion, mais il ne savait pas qu'il avait glissé hors de sa portée. Puis il s'est souvenu de l'arme de poing, elle était encore dans son gilet. Au moment où ses doigts se sont enroulés autour de la poignée, il était trop tard. Les Sceaux l'avaient battu au tirage rapide. Le sang jaillit de la poitrine infectée, et il s'assombrit; presque tomber sur Jean dans le processus. John n'a pas perdu une seconde. Il a sauté à ses pieds, vite comme un lapin, et a commencé à courir vers les Sceaux. Il a négligé de reprendre le fusil pendant le processus.
L'héliport était presque dans les bras quand c'est arrivé. John agitait ses bras dans l'air, je ne suis pas infecté! Deux plus deux, c'est quatre! » Jean cria dans le désespoir, mais il attira aussi l'attention des fous. Un en particulier a immédiatement tiré sur John. La majorité de l'amas l'a manqué, et a ricoché loin, mais une balle a piqué l'arrière de sa jambe. L'impact soudain a envoyé John trébucher dans la couverture derrière les Sceaux, je pense que j'ai été touché! - Il a frénétiquement commencé à se taper les jambes, pendant que la bataille faisait rage.
Name: John Hemmy
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Nationality: United States/White
Surviving Family: Sister and Niece
Former Occupation: Fry Cook/was looking into college
Backstory: The doctor motioned with his right hand for John to look at the camera as he spoke. He took a deep breath, and slowly let it out before before speaking. “Well, uh, I was working the first night that it hit my town. No one had really expected it, we were led to believe that the virus hadn’t made it down that far south yet. It was around eleven at night when I first encountered someone who was infected.
“My boss was going over some paperwork, and I was counting the inventory. I was in the walk in cooler when I heard the commotion coming from his office. Sounded like he, uh, smashed his window. I didn’t want to go in there, ‘cause I thought he was mad again. He had an awful temper, did shit like that all the time. But I had to run in there when he started screaming my name. When I rounded the corner to his office, I saw him, uh, fighting off what I thought was a pissed off customer. The customer was flailing a bat around, and my boss was using his barstool to keep him at a distance.
“I didn’t really have time to think about it, so I just tackled the customer, and kept him pinned to the floor while my boss called the police. I didn’t realize it at the time, you know, that he was infected, but it clicked once my boss told me that he was trying to spit on him. I had heard that they can spread the virus with bodily fluids, is that true?” John asked, the doctor nodded his head yes.
John cleared his throat and began again, “The next couple of days were pretty weird. No one was allowed to leave their house, complete lockdown. Such a stupid idea, people were practically trapped in their homes. Didn’t, uh, take long for the infected to start ripping the city apart. I tried going to my parents house to get them out, wanted to get everyone in the family out alive. When I got there…” John’s voice trailed off, “Well...you know. I tried my sister next, I was happy to find them alive. Her and my niece hopped in my truck, and we left town through the, uh, backroads. No particular destination in mind.
“We stayed together for a few weeks, scavenging for food and fuel. I’d go into the towns, and she would watch the truck. Until about a month ago when we got separated. I was on my way back to the truck, when I saw the infected around the two of them; they were creeping up on the truck. I yelled for her to start the truck and drive away, then I got the attention of the all the infected and made them chase me. I don’t, uh, know how long I ran. It was definitely the longer than I ever had before. The infected were screaming and shouting the entire time they were chasing. I don’t know if I lost them, or if they just got bored and quit following. But about two hours after that, I collapsed in some woods and fell asleep. Woke up a few hours later, I was lost but still alive. And then for a month, I was alone.
“Only saw two other sane people, but they didn’t last long. I was hiding in a, uh, dumpster while the two strangers got beat to death by a group of the infected. I’m sure the marines here would have jumped in to save those people, but I was scared. Fear keeps you alive out there,” John cleared his throat, “Anyway, uh, that’s pretty much my whole story. I found you guys two days ago, almost got shot introducing myself, and now I’m here.” John sighed, happy to have the interview done with. The doctor gave a gentle nod and shut the camera off.

Appearance: John is 6 feet tall, and weighs around 125. Before the outbreak he had a healthier weight, and a slim athletic build, but the lack of food has thinned him out a little. Without any barbers around to have taken care of him, John’s hair has become uncharacteristically long; stopping just at his shoulders. His once full face, is now sunken and bruised. The overall rugged appearance makes his hazel eye color seem to pop.
((The appearance is a bit a rough, but it's four in the morning so it'll have to do for now.))