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Description
   The threesome watched as the helicopter disappeared in the distance, none of their screams were heard as the winds blew fiercely. Nick shivered slightly, even against the southern heat. He didn't like this, not one bit.

   The suited man looked back behind the others who had been trying to reach the same goal as him. He hadn't really paid attention to them, seeing as though they had just run into each other on the way up. Now was time to get a good look at them. First, she saw the young woman. Not bad. She was fairly pretty, but the way she looked him up and down showed just how uninterested she was. Far to stuck up for Nick's tastes. The other member was a larger black man who had a 'Don't fuck with me' air about him. Sure, he MIGHT slow them down, but a huge, solid man would be good to have on their side.

  "So...what the hell do we do now?" Nick coughed out, breaking the silence.

  "Looks like it was heading to the-" Coach was cut off by someone running up the stairs. Nick grabbed one of the hand pistols from a nearby crate and aimed at the door, waiting for something horrifying. Instead, he was greeted by something completely unexpected. A kid. A brat. A CHILD. BY HIMSELF.

   He was short and scrawny. He dawned a loose, red plaid shirt unbuttoned, falling slightly down his shoulders, underneath it was a black tank top, jeans that were to baggy for him, and heavy work boots. He was even shorter than their lone female member. His body was slender, so much so that Nick could wrap around the boy's whole waist with one arm. His face was filled with exhausted fear and only relaxed when Rochelle forced the gun out of Nick's hands.

   "You could've shot him! What the hell is your PROBLEM?"

   "Yeah and? He could've been a goddamn zombie for Christ's sakes!" Nick folded his arms, before looking back at the kid in front of him.

   "Don't tell me they....gone?" The child's face completely dropped.

   "Yeah, they're gone, sonny. I'm sorry." Coach said softly, trying not to make the boy more upset.

   "But look, we're all here now and...we'll make sure you're okay, alright, sweetie?" Rochelle said in a soothing voice.

   "Wait wait wait wait wait wait....what's with this 'we' crap? Who said I was going to look after some brat? I don't even know you guys...let alone this brat. And he'll just slow us down. If the zombies are as bad as they've said, we might as well chuck him off the building now or shoot him in the head. He'd be better off!"

   "No!" The boy cried, putting his tiny hands up in a defensive position.

   "Don't worry, sweetie. I wouldn't let him do that." Rochelle said kindly,but with a twang of anger in her voice at Nick. "So, what's your name?"

   "Ellis...my name is Ellis."

   "I'm Rochelle. Nice to meet you, sweetheart." Rochelle chuckled, shaking his tiny hand.

   "I'm known as Coach, sport." Coach ruffled his hair.

   "Nick..." Nick muttered out.

   And the foursome trotted down the stairs, having no idea what they had coming.

Description
   The threesome watched as the helicopter disappeared in the distance, none of their screams were heard as the winds blew fiercely. Nick shivered slightly, even against the southern heat. He didn't like this, not one bit.

   The suited man looked back behind the others who had been trying to reach the same goal as him. He hadn't really paid attention to them, seeing as though they had just run into each other on the way up. Now was time to get a good look at them. First, she saw the young woman. Not bad. She was fairly pretty, but the way she looked him up and down showed just how uninterested she was. Far to stuck up for Nick's tastes. The other member was a larger black man who had a 'Don't fuck with me' air about him. Sure, he MIGHT slow them down, but a huge, solid man would be good to have on their side.

  "So...what the hell do we do now?" Nick coughed out, breaking the silence.

  "Looks like it was heading to the-" Coach was cut off by someone running up the stairs. Nick grabbed one of the hand pistols from a nearby crate and aimed at the door, waiting for something horrifying. Instead, he was greeted by something completely unexpected. A kid. A brat. A CHILD. BY HIMSELF.

   He was short and scrawny. He dawned a loose, red plaid shirt unbuttoned, falling slightly down his shoulders, underneath it was a black tank top, jeans that were to baggy for him, and heavy work boots. He was even shorter than their lone female member. His body was slender, so much so that Nick could wrap around the boy's whole waist with one arm. His face was filled with exhausted fear and only relaxed when Rochelle forced the gun out of Nick's hands.

   "You could've shot him! What the hell is your PROBLEM?"

   "Yeah and? He could've been a goddamn zombie for Christ's sakes!" Nick folded his arms, before looking back at the kid in front of him.

   "Don't tell me they....gone?" The child's face completely dropped.

   "Yeah, they're gone, sonny. I'm sorry." Coach said softly, trying not to make the boy more upset.

   "But look, we're all here now and...we'll make sure you're okay, alright, sweetie?" Rochelle said in a soothing voice.

   "Wait wait wait wait wait wait....what's with this 'we' crap? Who said I was going to look after some brat? I don't even know you guys...let alone this brat. And he'll just slow us down. If the zombies are as bad as they've said, we might as well chuck him off the building now or shoot him in the head. He'd be better off!"

   "No!" The boy cried, putting his tiny hands up in a defensive position.

   "Don't worry, sweetie. I wouldn't let him do that." Rochelle said kindly,but with a twang of anger in her voice at Nick. "So, what's your name?"

   "Ellis...my name is Ellis."

   "I'm Rochelle. Nice to meet you, sweetheart." Rochelle chuckled, shaking his tiny hand.

   "I'm known as Coach, sport." Coach ruffled his hair.

   "Nick..." Nick muttered out.

   And the foursome trotted down the stairs, having no idea what they had coming.