May We Live, Not Just Survive
G/F/I can meet at any time, the order that people meet doesn't have to be the order of the authors. Also all G/F/I will merge and be one big group at some point, how and when that happens we'll find out as the story progresses.
For a list of authors go here
I'll add onto the author's list if/when anyone else joins. If you wanna sign up for the story just go to the link above, you'll find everything you need.
To Right a Wrong
Jack didn't know what to do without his parents, he and his sister had just turned 18 when the whole zombie epidemic ensued, and Jack wasn't quite as intelligent as his sister, but was close. He vowed from the moment he and his sister were packing their belongings onward that he would avenge his parents' deaths by killing as many zombies as possible, hoping he would make himself useful.
That was at least five months ago, now he and Octavia were wandering around Kansas City, Missouri, killing zombies left and right and trying to find shelter for more than a night or two. Octavia, standing at 6'1'' (Jack was 6'2"), wasn't hard to miss, and the zombies were smart enough to notice a tall gorgeous girl with raven hair wielding a knife/ or gun. They were constantly bombarded with zombies coming at them left and right, but today was different. Today was quiet.
"I think we should leave, Tavy," Jack said, his handsome face- the male version of Octavia's- scanned the streets as they made their way out of the city.
"I know this, Jack. I'm not a blind imbecile," She said, her cold voice drawled. Despite the deserted landscapes and everything being unclean, Octavia managed to look well put together and clean, even going as far as to wear dresses and high heels.
Jack and Octavia dressed in clothes they took from a vintage store in downtown Chicago, circa 50s and 60s, and looked very nice despite the apocalyptic atmosphere. Jack strolled down the street in a nice suit, the jacket slung over his shoulder along with his knapsack, and had a finger hooked in his suspenders. Octavia wore a nice black and white dress and black pumps, her hair in an up-do, and her face was painted up with make-up.
If one were to see the two of them, they would wonder why they looked so nice and bathed properly as though humanity weren't in jeopardy. Octavia walked with an odd grace that made her move oh so silently, despite her five inch heels, and Jack was glad for it, because he too was as silent and deadly.
"Jack, how much longer until you give up your heroism goal and let us just stay at some nice abandoned farm house?" Octavia asked, using a knife to file her nails.
"I won't give up until I breathe my last breath, Octavia. Don't you care about avenging our parents' death?" He asked.
"No, not really," She sniffed, and continued to file her nails, making sure she didn't touch the dried on blood.
"I honestly think there's something wrong with you," He mumbled.
Octavia rolled her eyes. "Oh stop with the bravery and attempts at valor, G.I. Joe Jr., you can drop the whole pretense. I am your twin after all, you don't have to pretend in front of me," She said, completely uninterested.
The two continued to walk, the only sound was Octavia's heels hitting the concrete of the street. Jack repeatedly checked his ammo supplies, which he had stocked up on, and to see if his guns were loaded.
"Zombies are the most stupid creatures it has ever been my displeasure to encounter," Octavia said, breaking the silence.
"I'm sure zombies are a displeasure to encounter regardless of intelligence," Jack countered.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her plump lips twitch into a rare smile.
"You have been practicing our debating in your mind, haven't you?"
Jack never answered, as he was distracted by a rare thought of his girlfriend: Rowena.
"You're thinking about her again aren't you?" Octavia asked, knowing his expression.
"I could've stopped it, Tavia," Jack whispered.
"Yeah, I know, but you didn't." She replied, trying to avoid the topic.
"They just ate her-"
"That's what zombies do, Jack. They eat people. First Mom and Dad, then you're weird girlfriend with bad hair, it happens. Life sucks," Octavia said, offering no warmth or comfort.
"You wouldn't understand, Tavia, you've never loved-"
"Nope, and I pray with earnest I never do. A bunch of overrated bull, if you ask me."
"Octavia, you loved Mom and Dad didn't you?" Jack asked, staring straight ahead.
"Debatable," Octavia said, checking her nails.
Octavia had always been like this: heartless, sarcastic, and bitter in an oddly affectionate way. Jack stopped talking because Octavia gave off the impression that she wanted him to shut up. The two walked in silence for at least five minutes when Jack noticed something wrong.
"Is that a group of people or zombies?" He asked, his handsome face stricken with worry.
"Let's hope it's zombies, I have tons of pent up anger at the moment. It'd be nice to take it out of something."
The two neared the crowd of either zombies or people, only to hear the moans of the zombies. They weren't people; they were zombies.
"Crap," Jack muttered.
"Language," Octavia said, patronizing him. "I prefer the term 'holy hell' myself."
And with that, Jack pulled out three guns: two for himself, one for Octavia.
"Ready?" He asked, tilting his fedora back, his symmetrical face determined.
"No, but I'll lie and say yes."
And together they ran into the horde of zombies; Jack determined for heroic redemption and Octavia doing it for sadistic fun.