Vance

Vance

Name: Vance

Age: 17
Height: 5 ft. 10 in. (1 m 77)
Weight: 159 lbs. (72 kg)
Eyes: brown
Hair: dark
Traits: Shrewd, Funny, Friendly
Hobbies: Baseball, Drums, Science

Favorite Movie: Pulp Fiction
Favorite Band: Red Hot Chili Peppers
Favorite Food: Pizza
Favorite Color: Green
Favorite Weapon: The jungle machetes he got as a kid
Favorite “King of Tokyo” Monster: Meka Dragon

Strength: Stealth
Weakness: Fear of firearms

The night of the outbreak, Vance was walking from baseball practice to Astronomy Club, deep in thought under his headphones. Halfway to the observatory, he thought he saw a woman picking up her tiny dog… but then he saw blood dripping from her mouth. She wasn’t picking it up.

He stared in horror. Then he saw other people shuffling with open wounds. Gray skin. Gutteral growls. Missing limbs. Vance had seen every zombie movie, novel, comic, and TV show ever made. He knew what was happening.

Except… a zombie plague is ridiculous. Biting is a stupid disease vector for rapid contagion. Zombies can’t ingest enough kilocalories if they only eat living meat. Zombies break thermodynamics. They couldn’t exist!

He passed a school bus surrounded by a pack of them. Kids inside screamed and pounded the glass when they saw Vance. That sent the zombies chasing him! They were slow though. He bolted and lost them. This wasn’t a movie. This was real. And it didn’t make any sense, and people were dying, and only kids were left!

No adults meant no electricity. Municipal water supplies would stagnate. Everything would go downhill. Fast. Vance started to panic. Zombie stories don’t have happy endings. 

Then his cell phone rang… “Why aren’t you at the observatory, nerd?”