I Walk With the Dead- R.I.P.

(( D=....))

Estelle laughed, "I can pick you up some salad dressing if you need it, but I need to take Captain Kirk his gun back." She chuckled. She had never really had too much dealings with the military, considering she wasn't technically a citizen of any country after she ran away, she never felt like they were fighting for her.

"Thanks, but I make my own dressings. Some blood and acid from the stomach, a little pepper and Italian spices and you got yourself one yummy dressing!" Art said, licking her lips.

shawn sat down under the treehouse, unaware of it being there.

Estelle laughed, "Alright. Well, come along." she beckoned.

Articia got to her feet, groaning with effort and holding her stomach like pregnant woman.
Standing unsteadily, she wondered aloud, "What would happen if I got pregnant? Can I even get pregnant now?"

"I have no idea." Estelle admitted, climbing back up into Jason's tree home, "Here's your gun, dude." she said, handing him the weapon.

Jason wasn't in the tree home though. there was a skylight above. through it, towards the very top of the tree, she could see jason, just sitting there, looking out at the horizon. a small drop of blood dripped through the skylight and landed on the floor, amidst a puddle only a few inches across.

Estelle tilted her head curiously, "Everything OK, G.I. Joe?"

Smelling the fresh blood, Articia followed Estelle up to the tree house and pushed past her through the skylight. "What's up with the blood?" she asked Jason.

Jason looked down at them, holding his left arm. "i made the mistake of trying to sleep. a zombie with a sword climbed in while i was asleep and nearly cut my arm off" he muttered. "i'm just glad i didn't get cut by his teeth or claws" he said looking down from his perch.

Articia raised an eyebrow. "A zombie with a sword? Seriously?" she asked, disbelievingly. "Most of us can't even figure out that a pointed stick hurts when you poke your eye with it!"

"keyword there is most" he said dropping down a headless zombie, which had clenched in it's hand a sword. after jason dropped down, wincing and gripping his forearm. more blood dripped down his arm.

"The zed getcha?" Ryan called out from his fort.

"it was one of the few coordinated ones" he called to ryan as he held his arm. for being his forearm, it seemed to... bend.. way too much.

"Ah... I suggest you find someone to look that over. I would, but I was studying in pathology." Ryan said.

"yeah i would but i doubt any doctors are around here" he mutered keeping a tight grip on his arm, which was dripping blood on the floor.

"I saw a populated military blocade a few miles before I made this my little outpost. Maybe you could go there. But I suggest you get a splint on that, and wrap it up tightly." Ryan said, disapearing into his shelter before throwing a golf club and bedsheet out of the window.

"Here, let me help with that." Articia said, taking the golf club and breaking it in half, then wrapping the sheet around Jason's arm and the club, making sure his arm stayed straight. Then she tightly tied the ends of the sheet together.
Articia looked at her hands disgustedly. They were covered with Jason's blood. "You can have this back," she said, wiping the blood off on Jason's shirt.

Jason chuckled and looked up at the zombie girl. "thanks for that back. at least i know you don't find me good enough to eat yet" he said making a bad attempt at a joke. he looked at his arm. "i'll probably be put up for psychiatric evaluation if i even suggest there are some good zombies" he muttered.

Estelle chuckled, "Well, Art is sort of an anomaly, if you will. She enjoys defying the laws of reason." Estelle patted the zombie on the back, "She also makes some mean ramen noodles. Speaking of which," she noted, "I have a large stockpile of food at my base, or home, whichever you prefer to call it, if you guys are running short. Also, I have medical supplies, weapons, shelter, beds, and cable." she chuckled, "I've lived by myself for almost fifteen years." That sounded a little odd to Jason and Ryan, since Estelle only looked to be in her early twenties. "And, you better hope none of the zombie's... fluids got into your system. Otherwise, you'll be just like one in a few hours. And I don't mean one like Art."

"trust me i made sure it didn't get anything in me." he said glancing at his pretty much dead left arm. "i guess sleep is out of the question in this new world" he muttered.

"Nah." Estelle shrugged, "I get almost ten hours of sleep a night undisturbed. Art is handy when it comes to that. She sure knows how to zombie-proof a house."

"problem is i'm not sure how to do that yet. as yu can tell" he muttered looking at his mesed up arm. "i was never an engineer, i was special ops. special ops gets in, does the job, and gets out. i'm not used to digging in" he muttered.

Estelle sighed, "Fine. You boys can bunk at my place." She held up one finger, "On one condition; Don't mess with my stuff unless I gave you permission. I was trained to use most of this, and I'm willing to bet you haven't been unless you've been studying zombie hunting for a few years."