Ginny Marone & The PPSS

[Enter for Walking Dead Comp] After a month of waiting for her parents to return, fifteen year old Ginnifer Marone has to decide her fate. Find a safe place to hide or have a messy death?


1. The PPSS

I stayed home from school today. It has been like this since the Apocalypse came upon us. Everyone is being turned into zombies. But not just any zombies. These zombies sometimes mutate and gain special abilities.

Witches are highly sensitive to light and the presence of uninfected humans. Shining a torch on a Witch or approaching to closely will ‘startle’ her and trigger and attack. They can incapacitate or kill an uninfected human with one hit and run faster than other zombies or an uninfected human. Jockeys can jump onto the back of uninfected humans and cling to their head and upper-back. From there, they can steer them while clawing at their face.

The Boomer’s mutation has caused it to produce immense quantities of bile which it attempts to vomit of uninfected humans, temporarily blinding them and summoning a small Horde (a group of zombies). The Hunter is agile and whose mutation grants it incredible strength and agility. It can kill or grievously injure uninfected humans who have become separated from their comrade. 

The Tank is a zombie of hulking proportions, and it is arguably the most powerful zombie (with an exception of Witches, who is most hostile). Unless a group of the uninfected pull their weight to take it down, the Tank can wipe out an entire team, either single-handedly or with assistance of other zombies. Smokers are zombies with extremely long tongues. It tongue can launch out of its mouth at high speeds, and when it reaches an uninfected human, it automatically wraps around the target’s body and drags them back towards the Smoker. If any obstacles block the victim from being dragged to the Smoker, it will choke its target instead.

The Charger’s pain purpose is to separate a group of uninfected humans who are tightly joined by grabbing one and crashing into the rest of the group, sending flying through the air. While it matches the uninfected’s pace, it speeds up considerably to charge into them. However, this increase in speed leads to a slow stop and a difficulty in turning left and right. The Spitter’s mutations enable it to spit out a ball of mutated stomach acid, which, upon hitting the ground, spreads out into a large pool. Any uninfected humans standing within the pool of acid take increasing amounts of damage based on how long the acid has been down. 

I looked out of my bedroom window, feeling sorry for those who have been infected. I then look over at my reflection in my mirror. Staring back at me was a girl about fifteen years of age with pale, almost white skin. Her hair chocolaty brown and feathered and her eyes are glowing emerald, maybe even jade green. I sat by the mirror and looked at the girl for a bit. Her thin pinkish lips smiled meekly just as I’d forced mine to. 


“Ginnifer.” My father called. Sighing, I stood up and stumbled downstairs to where my parents were standing by the front door. My Mum was almost in tears and my Dad had a sorrowful expression on his face. “Ginnifer, dear,” sniffed my mother “Your father and I are going to be away for a while.”
“How long?” I asked in a worry. They couldn’t just leave me in the house, alone, especially if zombies are everywhere.


“We don’t know,” Dad, sighed, “Hopefully, we’ll be able to kill all of the infected people and start fresh.” 
“But Dad, what if you and Mum get infected? What shall I do?” I said in a panic. My parents hugged me “If we’re not back in three days, then you need to join a group of survivors. We love you, Ginnifer, we really do.” Mum said before they both left, Mum with an axe in her hand and my father with a crowbar. 

Their silhouettes shrunk into the distance. Shivering, I tried to think of a way to keep myself safe until they came back. Well, that was if they came back.



A month had more or less gone by and I was now hiding in an abandoned supermarket. Desperate survivors had taken the majority of the stock, while I was left with a cricket ball, a bottle of alcohol, an old sock and a lighter. 

Bored out of my mind, I started flicking the lighter on and off. It was dark; all of the electricity was down, as far as I knew anyway. Peckish, I decided to look around for food. But as I walked down the frozen food aisle, a zombie came running at me. I stood still in fear as it came closer to tearing me apart. Then there was a gunshot. The zombie fell to the floor in a pool of blood.  
A man, around the age of thirty-two, dressed in a police uniform came over to me. “Are you OK?” he asked. “Who are you?” I said shakily. “Anton Ellison, leader of the Pinellas Pass Survivors Squad,” explained the man “What your name, solider?”


“Ginny Marone.” I say, tucking the old sock into the alcohol bottle. Anton and I wander through the abandoned supermarket until Anton seemed to notice something. “This place is infested,” he grumbled “How long have you taken refuge here for?”
“I don’t know,” I shrugged “A week maybe two weeks.” Anton looked around “Two weeks? Jesus Christ, I’m surprised you’re still alive.” Then after a bit Anton came up with an idea. “What are you doing?” I asked as he pointed a combat shotgun at the burglar alarm. “Ginny, when the alarm goes off, get ready to smash them.” Then he shot the alarm. A bell sounded and a whole horde of zombies came rushing at us. 


As a Spitter came running at me and before it could spit out bile, I whacked it over the head with the cricket bat. “There’s too many of them!” cried Anton. I looked at the bottle of alcohol “Get ready to run!” I told him just as I lit the sock. “Go!” I screamed, throwing the Molotov. Anton and I ran for our lives and reached the park on the opposite side of the road just as the supermarket blew up. 

“Good thinking.” Said Anton picking himself up. We walked through the park for a bit. Apparently there was a safe place not far from there. I sighed loudly and followed him. If my parents had seen me blow up that supermarket, they’d have killed me I thought but the thought of my parents made me feel depressed. Not long later, we’d arrived at an abandoned barn. “Cyrus, Harley, Jordan, Dan, I’ve got company.” Called Anton. 

When he did, three boys and a girl came out of the shadows. The first guy had dark skin and was a little tubby round the middle. The second guy was pale skinned and was dressed like a gangster. The third guy was more tanned than the second and had a pretty good build. The girl, however, had dark skin and her thick black hair was tied up in a high ponytail.

“Ginny, this is my comrade,” said Anton pointing to each person in turn “Cyrus Lindquist, Harley Haver, Jordan Capello and Dan Baker. Guys, this is our new recruit, Ginny Marone.” 
“Are you serious bruv?” Harley blurted, “Dis bitch wouldn’ hur’ a fly.” I scowled at him. “Harley, you don’t know what she might be capable of.” Jordan snapped at his and then smiled at me “Welcome to the Pinellas Pass Survivors Squad, Ginny.” She said. Then everyone crowded around a table of weapons. 

“Now,” Anton began “We’ll be moving as of tonight. That means everyone who needs to change or replace weapons, do it now. Ginny, since you’re new, Cyrus can explain to you what you need.” Cyrus, the tubby fella, turned to me. “So,” he said with his African American accent “For weapons can have to pick only one of each category, a gun or sidearm, a melee, a weapon upgrade and a grenade. Now you can choose.”

I looked at the weapons carefully. I put my cricket bat on the table and swapped it for a combat knife, quickly strapping it to the belt loop of my jeans. Gun wise, I chose an M-16 assault rifle. To update my chosen gun I loaded it with incendiary ammo and pocketing the rest of the box. For the grenade, I picked up and Molotov and lighter and strapped them to my jeans while the rifle hung over my shoulder. I’d never used a gun before let alone an assault rifle; this was all new to me. 

Rejoining the rest of the P.P.S.S., Anton said, “Right, tonight we will march from here to Thrillville Amusement Park…”
“Bu’ dat place is old, abandoned and haun’ed doe.” Harley interrupted. “Can it, Harley!” snapped Cyrus and Jordan. While Anton carried on explaining the plan, I turned to Dan, who was smiling at me. “So,” he whispered, “You must be brave to join us.” 
“What do you mean?” I asked him with a confused expression on my face. Dan chuckled “I mean, not many teen girls would want to join the P.P.S.S.” I smiled at him and got ready for any instructions.

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