Name: Jackson Lane
Weight: 200 lbs.
Birthplace: Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania
Character Story: Jackson got his accounting degree at Penn State, living with his parents after graduation to save money before people living with their parents was a trend. He did not have many friends and the only women he slept with were ones he picked up drunk at the bar. A lonely man, he sunk himself into his work and his hobbies. Great at his accounting job for an upstart corporation, they tasked him with the hardest work and the least recognition. Jackson was passed up for promotion on multiple occasions, finally getting a break when the company opened a second branch up in the Midwest. Shortly after arriving he was demoted so the boss could give his son a cushy gig, still relying on Jackson's work for the bulk of the job. It irritated the fuck out of him, but he pushed it under, keeping his smile from faltering and offering up false kindness.
Without his family in the Midwest, he had no friends other than the DnD group he had started to meet with, most of them far too young for him to be hanging out with. Here was a man nearing 40 whose main friends were high school seniors and college freshmen. It was a sad state of affairs, but they did need him to get booze and cigarettes for them.
He kept to himself for the most part, hooked on the latest strategy games. Finally the work pressure had built up so much that he took a Beretta 9mm and a pistol-grip shotgun he bought at a pawn shop to work, intent on gunning down the boss and his son. The office was by the outskirts of the town, near the high class residential district. He arrived to chaos, blood and bodies already littering the floor. Nancy, the receptionist, was tearing chunks out of the janitor's neck with her teeth.
Nancy got up and started to shamble toward him. More figures started coming toward him, his boss among them. Jackson quickly started firing the pistol, clipping and missing quite a bit, but putting some of the zombies down. In panic he threw the pistol down and raised the shotgun, massacring his former co-workers, but mercifully for his sanity it was in self-defense. Though he did take a special pleasure in watching his boss's head break apart like a Gallagher melon. When it was all over, his ammo was spent and he couldn't find the pistol in the pile of bodies. Some of the zombies were still crawling toward him, with mangled limbs.
The boss's son, Eric, came out of the maintenance closet where he had been hiding. The front of his pants were dark with the piss that he had taken before Jackson arrived. The seconds they stared at each other felt like at hour; Jackson with the shotgun unconsciously pointed at Eric's center mass.
"Get out of here man!" Jackson yelled at him. If Eric had stayed, he honestly didn't know if he would have pulled the trigger or not. The city was apparently being overrun with corpses eating the living. Zombies had been popular culture for a while now, so any news and alerts had likely been ignored as jokes. Some thugs stole Jackson's Prius at gunpoint, letting him keep his own weapon. They wanted the better mileage, leaving him the keys to their shitty pick-up truck that got 14 miles to the gallon.
He stayed up late at night, listening to radio broadcasts of survivors offering tips to each other, shouting out gathering points. Jackson didn't go, he thought it might not be the brightest move to go where everyone else was. The multitude of flesh would draw the dead ones just as it would the living. One of his Dungeons and Dragons buddies holed up with him at his apartment, talking about escaping the city to his Grandpa's farm house 30-some miles South of the city. It sounded like a good idea.
It was a particularly cold day, causing Jackson's right knee to flare up. Back in Pennsylvania he had been mugged, taking a baseball bat to the right knee. It healed and he didn't limp, but it hurt like a bitch sometimes. They went South as far as they could, until the road was blocked. The two walked to the front of the car pile-up to find a vehicle with keys still in it. A crawler bit his friend's ankle from under a car. The kid had cried quite a bit, then slit his own wrists with the knife he had been carrying, sure the bite had done him in. The truth was, no one knew for sure if all it took was a bite. Most people hadn't taken the chance to find out, shooting people after they got bit in caution.
Some idiot had actually been out riding on his moped, the keys still inside, his blood all over it. From the looks of it, zombies had grabbed him right off of it when he tried to drive through them. Jackson decided it was the best way to weave through the blockage and get him closer to the farm house, for a temporary refuge.
Appearance: Jackson is an average guy, with a slightly above average stomach. He is meticulously clean, carrying a lint roller with him at all times.
Clothing: Business suits, slacks, & loafers.
Personality: He is a nerd of sorts, still playing video games as he reaches for the fifth decade of his life. Jackson enjoys simulation and strategy games, where statistical micro-management is the driving point. Dungeons and Dragons is a bi-weekly event for him as well, it gives him an excuse to buy and paint figurines. A numbers man, he naturally went into accounting, always having a special skill with math. After years and years of never being recognized at his job, then demoted when he finally got his big break so his boss's son could have a cushy job, he has become disenfranchised in the world. He is the nice guy next door that people say hi to, but never know beyond that. Jackson has always been a nice, kind person but the anger inside him from going unrecognized has been building up and his anger bursts at the seams.
Strengths: + Intelligence, +Math, +Strategy
Weaknesses: - right knee injury lingers, - not good at handling emotions, - trouble sleeping early
Starting Equipment: Moped, pistol-grip pump shotgun [3 shells], portable gaming device, iPod, laptop, duffel bag [w/clothes and a few canned goods]. Various other non-essential items like DnD books and his miniature kit.