What happens when the shit hit's the fan? You gear up. It's what Duane use to hear if not say back when he was younger. The Doberman formally known as C-Rock always had thought's about wanting out of the gangster life and try and make a better life for himself but always got pulled back in. It was when he served some jail time and learned he had a little brother on the way, he needed to get out. Some understood, other's didn't, and it seemed like the wrong one's wanted both brother's in the life.

Now there may be no choice. The world had gone to literal hell, worse than anything anyone had ever seen. Beast's attacking and eating each other. And they look and smell dead. He knew where his little brother was, so he was safe, for now. He on the other hand, he was exposed. Running through the street's, past neighbours and old homies either fighting off animal's and falling to them. He managed to get to his home and locked everything he could and moved his furniture to barricade the door's and windows. It's when he noticed the floor boards.

Out of reflex, he got a crowbar and pulled them apart to bring up a case and he opened it. Pulling out a bullet-proof vest and his old gun's....and he sighed. "I left this behind," he thought while looking at his old tool's. A powerful magnum and an auto shotgun. He wanted nothing to do with this again, he wanted to be better than this. But hearing the chaos outside made him realize he still need's the protection from the dead, but most of all, his little brother need's him. His skill's, his instincts, and the violence that came with it if they were going to survive.

Closing his eye's and taking a deep breath, he picked them up and geared up. "Here we go again."