Our World Is Slowly Dying

Meet Our Survivors

Crawford was the toughest, meanest body in the group. He was in his mid 30's. He was respected and followed by others from the intimidation and physical bullying. He was slim like a thin branch from a ghastly tree and incredibly tall. His daughter, Charlie, yearned for a friend. Instead, was dealing with her abusive, overprotective father. She was 14 years old. Her hair was almost platinum blonde and she was small. All she wanted to do was help the camp and protect her people.
Coby was Charlie's brother. Along with irritation, he wasn't such a bad little seven year old. He was very close with Charlie.
Debra, surprisingly was the leader. She was the oldest and the wisest. She had found all of the campers and with help from her son, Dexter, they searched for food and water and shelter from the Infected.
Lastly, if you hadn't have guessed, was Dexter. He was an ignorant, quiet, lonely son in his late 20's. He had no connection with any of the others, not even his mother. He was independent and survived with his bow and arrows, both carefully crafted by the sturdy hands of the man himself.
They all camped in an overgrown field. The grass consisted of many different shades of green. Seeing the same boring colours may have bored the eyes of the desperate survivors but it made a change from brown and red rotting blood and flesh, right?
A forest shadowed the camp and the only one to have ever explored in the wilderness was, of course, Dexter.
Three tents gathered round a constant burning campfire. One for Crawford's family, one for Debra and another for Dexter. Laid next to the fire was a sack of pistols, shotguns, machine guns and a couple of machetes. The guns were only used in absolute necessary situations otherwise nearby Infected may have heard.