Miles Thatcher was a college student working on getting a degree in environmental sciences. Until the world was swept with an apocalyptic disease. He was kindhearted, caring, and protective over his friends, which were all rare finds in the current world they lived in. He was logical, he was very strategic, which is why Miles was often thought of as the leader of the group. He kept an axe as a weapon. Miles was 19 years old, 6'0, and African-American. He had long dreads that he kept pulled back into a bun, a few loose dreads falling to frame his face.

Will Everett was an employee at the city zoo before the apocalypse took over. He spent most of his days back then hanging out with the lemurs in their enclosure and puffing a joint. Now, the only difference was that he wasn't with the lemurs anymore, but he always had a joint tucked somewhere on him. He was very laid back, loved a good blunt, and had the energy of your average burnt out gifted kid. Will had a classic shotgun, running on limited shells. Will was 20 years old, just a bit taller than Miles at 6'2, and was mixed African-American. He had a large, protective afro that kept his hair in check in the chaotic world of the undead.

Before the apocalypse hit, Noah Quinn used to work in his father's auto-body shop for years. Noah was the happy, overconfident, flirty one of the group. Or, at least, the wanna-be playboy. He hadn't seen a girl since a few months after the disease swept over. He was a gentleman, he was kind, just like his mother taught him to be. Noah had a handgun to himself. Noah was 19, he was the shortest being 5'7, and he was proudly Puetro Rican. He had shaggy black curls that he tried to keep short for the sake of not over-heating during the summer seasons.

Peter Spencer, self proclaimed teenage dirtbag. Before he had to worry about zombies, he had to worry about getting into fights and staying out of juvie. He was the youngest, and also the quickest to anger. Peter was crass, crude, very straightforward and had little to no filter. He was tactical, or at least, he tried to be. He carried a metal pipe with him as a weapon, one end wrapped with electrical tape. Peter was 18, standing at about 5'10, and he was your average ginger white boy. His bright orange curls were messy, fluffy, and wild.