Alors que l'homme attaquait Jack grondait. "Je ne suis pas encore en train de mourir, Bruv." Quand il s'est emparé de son arme, il l'a laissé tomber, et s'est abaissé, effectuant un coup de pied balayant, visant à abattre l'homme de ses pieds. Sans chercher de résultat, il recula lentement, dans une position de combat. "Écoute, mec. Je devais vous évaluer." Il a dit. "Quiconque ne se présente pas à la menace d'une arme n'est pas digne de confiance." Un sourire s'est répandu sur son visage, et il s'est rapproché avant qu'il ne lui tende la main. "Jack Oakson. Toi?" Il comptait sur son test maintenant. Son manteau avait séché le sang des infectés dessus, le plus susceptible d'essayer de les dissuader un peu. Sa main était encore coincée. "Ne me laisse pas pendre, mon pote." Son sourire était sincère et amical.
Name: Jack Oakson
Age: 16
Appearance:



Job: None, born after apocalypse began.
Bio: Jack was born into Hell. Or, that's what his mom called it. They were actually in Salisbury, Maryland. She was determined to keep him and his brother shut out from the plague, and to give them a proper education. And she right well did. Jack was taught how to do Calculus, infer the differences between each layer of Earth, and how most civilizations rose and fell. When his brother caught the virus, Jack's whole world was turned upside down. His mother acted like his brother was healthy, and pretty soon she had it. Determined to not catch the virus, he grabbed the rifle his father had from the military, a M4. He quickly killed his brother and mother. After what happened on that day, Jack was never the same. He quickly became a nomad, traveling wherever he needed to go.
Personality: Jack is slightly cold, often solving things by taking the most brutal and efficient approach if it means saving his friends and himself. Even though he cares for his friends dearly, he would never sacrifice himself for them, and openly admits to it.