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Author Topic: {IC} Those Left Behind  (Read 23554 times)
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« Reply #90 on: August 26, 2010, 10:05:15 pm »

Tired.

Alex yawned as she walked into the living room to be greeted with a mug of cocoa. She smiled at Kai and took her cocoa to her room as she dragged her bat behind her. She opened and closed the door and deposited the mug on the table while she took off her hat and scratched her head from wearing her hat too long. She breathed into her hands to get some sort of warmth before kicking off her boots. She collapses on the bed and pulls her long sleeved shirt to see the blood stained bandages; she would have to change them soon. She groaned and stayed on the bed; it was a good day, for now. 
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« Reply #91 on: August 27, 2010, 02:02:10 pm »

Thinking about it now, it seems a little strange. If this were a movie and the audience... safe and warm, satisfied, satiated and entertained... were taking note, they'd probably think something unsavory and unusual about me... but they don't know what it's like... traveling for days on foot with friends you made yesterday and lost the next day. Some people detach themselves. Others really try to hold on... that's what I want Daniel to do, God damn it, I want him to hold on...

Kenneth shook the sudden thought from his mind. It's not like Daniel was dying or anything, just a little "under the weather..."

"Hold on there, Daniel. You're going to pull through this. We have a whole 'nother shit storm you're going to have to face. A little cold ain't going to getcha." Kenneth said with false optimism.

Daniel had somehow stumbled from his stupor into the hallway where Kenneth had caught him and brought him back to his bed. He was not quite ready to go exploring in their new "home," but thanks to Daniel's success at keeping down some warm cocoa and fighting the chill, he would be able to get up soon. At least Kenneth hoped so.

Kenneth still was not used to all the new people, and seeing as he was genuinely concerned for Daniel's safety, he has decided to wait until he gets better or until someone... probably the masked man... gives some kind of orders. He seemed the leader of these people and while he was in this new place, he was going to do whatever was needed of him. For now, this was home.

"Home."
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« Reply #92 on: September 03, 2010, 11:30:27 pm »


Leland, now half-asleep, heard his door open, and then the quiet tap of a cup being set down. He wrapped his blanket tighter. “Hrmm. Thanks baby.” he mumbled. Taking a glance around, he noticed, to his horror that he was not in his old bed. He rose with a jolt, and found Trista on her way out of his room. 

Leland’s sleepy words froze the teenager in mid-step. ‘Baby?’  She looked over her shoulder at him with confusion. She cursed mentally when her stalling gave Leland time to realize his error and spot her. She turned back the corpsman politely, though her feature showed that she was at best, disinterested at what he had to say.

“Jesus…” Leland whispered to himself. “Trista, I-I’m sorry. I uh, thought you were someone else.” Her arms crossed over her chest, her only response was a gruff and cold, “Clearly.”

Trying to salvage the chance at conversation, Leland took the mug from his night table and took a sip. He managed to keep a straight face while also cursing his self for not checking the temperature of the cocoa first. “Mmm!” he smiled. “Thank you Trista.”

“Thank Kai, he made it.” She responded shortly. Leland put the mug down and wiped his lips. “So um, how are you? How are you feeling?” 
   
Trista just tilted her head at his inquire about her well-being. She just stared at Leland for a very long, uncomfortable moment, her only visible eye not blinking, as she seemed to be processing the words and forming a response. Trista finally just shrugged her shoulders making an unintelligible, indifferent sound in response to his concerns.

“I see.” Leland nodded. “Well…” He drew his knees in and crossed his legs, freeing up the bottom of his bed. “Why don’t you take a seat? We can just talk for a while.” Leland gave the offer, unsure whether or not she would actually stay. “C’mon.” he persisted, scratching a large scar on his shoulder. “You’re not busy are ya?”

Trista huffed. She wasn’t sure if she could even carry on a conversation. After all, what was there to talk about? But her other option was just to return to her room and be alone with herself. Neither seemed a better course of action than the other. She shifted her weight casually, before finally stepping forward, sitting stiffly on the edge of Leland’s bed. Rather than say anything, the girl just tilted her head at the man…body language speaking for her, asking what it was he wanted to talk about.

“There we go. So…” he cleared his throat. “So, what do you do to pass the time? Do you have any hobbies or stuff like that?”

Trista gave Leland a rather flat look. What does she do to pass the time? Hobbies? Has he looked at the state of the world lately? Or her own state, for that matter? Did he think she sat in her room passing the time knitting? She sighed, humoring him by at least answering the seemingly absurd question. “I spend my time making sure I stay alive.”

Leland chuckled uneasily. There was no getting this girl. “Well…” he started. “I mean, we don’t have to talk about you if you don’t feel like it. S’nothin’ wrong with bein’ a bit…guarded.” He said. After a short pause, he found something to say.

“I mean, we’re always botherin’ you with ‘how ya feeling’ are ya this, are ya that.’ I can see how it would get old fast. I bet no one ever asks if YOU got any questions. So…do you? Have any questions of your own, I mean?”

Trista just stared at Leland, listening. She was a very good listener, despite seeming to be ignoring most everyone that spoke to her. With everything that happened to her and the world around her, it wasn’t so much she stopped being a good listener, and more that she had just become a bit less inclined to care what someone was saying.
   
“Questions?” she mused momentarily, fingers cracking as she strummed them against her legs. Slowly a question for Leland did rise to mind: born partially from curiosity but mostly from her desire to clam the overly talkative Southerner up.
   
“Who was this ‘baby’ you got me mixed up with?”

Leland immediately began to chuckle, which turned into a hitching laugh. He leaned over the edge of the bed and from underneath it, retrieved a wrinkly, brown tee shirt. He pulled it on and sat next to Trista on the edge of the bed. “Oh man.” He said, still fighting back a small laugh. His cheeks turned rosy and a wry smile formed on his face.

“Uh, that was somebody from before; before all of…this.” He said, pointing out the window to the world outside. Leland could tell from her flat stare, however, that his response was not good enough. He sighed deeply and scratched at his stubbly chin.

“S’ my girl.” He finally said, averting his eyes from Trista. “My girl Gina. Whenever I stayed over, she’d bring me tea of coffee or somethin’ in bed. Y’ jus’ reminded me of that is all.”

Trista stared, unblinking. She hadn’t expected him to laugh. She was trying to scare him off by bringing up someone that was obviously from his past, and here he was smiling like a loon. She knew if had someone brought up her father she’d have had an opposite and much more violent reaction; she’d be desperate to get away from her questioner. But assuming a normal person like Leland would react as an obviously unstable person as she would, was probably why she failed to get the reaction she had hoped for.
   
Was. She was your girl.” Trista corrected in an absent-minded manner. She hadn’t intended to sound as callous as she had, but pointing out that Gina had to be dead if she was not with Leland now was only common sense to her.

Leland’s smile faded and he nodded his head gravely. “Yeah.” He said. His voice cracked just a bit, which he tried to cover up with a cough. “She, uh…she’s gone now. I lost her right at the beginnin’ of all this. It was down in West Virginia.” Leland turned to Trista. “It just happened so fast, y’know?” he turned back to the wall. “I didn’t know what to do. I just…” he bit his cheek and cleared his throat. “I loved her a lot. I’ll never forget ‘er.” He forced himself to look at Trista again through misty eyes, smiling again. “But that’s what’s important, isn’t it? Keepin’ ‘em in our memories? If we forget what we’re fightin’ to protect, then what’s the use a’ fightin’ a‘tall?”

Trista didn’t seem to register that saying a person was dead was probably more painful than asking about them in the first place. After all, Trista had been through the apartment losing several members in the past months. She wasn’t sure if she even registered the people around her as ‘people’ anymore. The only grief she felt was the lingering aftershocks of her father’s death, every death following was just expected….was normal. It stirred no emotional reaction from her anymore.
   
“I don’t believe there is anything worthwhile to fight for if you’ve already lost everything.” Trista said before catching Leland’s misty eyes.
Despite being emotionally detached, Trista didn’t like that she had made Leland upset enough to cry. She wasn’t intentionally malicious; she thought she was just being honest. Truly what was left after everything you loved was torn away?
   
Trista tensed as she suddenly found herself thinking about a certain dark haired, hazel eyed resident of the apartment. Her eyes narrowed and lips pursed slightly at realizing Liam wasn’t back yet.
   
As if on cue she heard Billie’s fretting, the usually sign the scavenging group had returned home. Trista stood, taking a few steps toward Leland’s door only to pause, glancing back at the corpsman.
   
“Sorry…” She didn’t elaborate if the apology was for being poor company or condolences for his loss.

“G’wan.” He said, waving her off. “Go say ‘hi’ to everyone; I’ll be back up n’ about after I warm up some more.” Trista nodded and stepped out, closing the door behind her. Leland thought about what she said just before. “Losing everything, huh? I wonder...which one of us is right.”
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« Reply #93 on: September 20, 2010, 11:51:41 pm »

Trista closed the door to Leland’s room, working to suppress the conversation she had just had. She could mull over the more philosophically upsetting points later, in privacy but for the moment she wiped her face of emotion and her mind of thoughts.

However her brain was started back online sooner than she would have liked, the girl pausing mid-step and staring into the open door of one of the rooms. The room of Billie’s two new strays. The girl tilted her head, frowning at the crying that is rather obviously coming from the younger of the two men. Without a word the girl came foreword, pausing in the doorway and giving the strangers time to register her scrawny, bandaged silhouette before she closed the door on the scene. Trista had done enough crying due to the events proceeding her time in the apartment. Tears solved nothing.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Trista was careful to stay just at the very edge of the hallway, almost peeking out into the common area where the scavenging group had returned. Her single green eye moved quickly over the faces of the survivors before settling on Liam. She exhaled at seeing him smile, not even realizing she had been all but holding her breath the entire time. Trista eyes moved to whom Liam was smiling at unsurprised to see it was Billie. The teenager tensed at realizing Billie was looking directly at Liam but nodding her head in Trista’s direction, calling Liam’s attention to her presence. Not waiting to see if her presence had been noted, Trista turned and moved back down the hallway. Planning to hide in her room like she usually does when interaction with another person is imminent.
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« Reply #94 on: September 21, 2010, 12:29:45 am »

Following the direction of Billie’s nod, Liam looked around in time to see Trista turn and walk back down the hall away from the common room. He watched her go, the smile he had been wearing dwindling away to nothing as he watched the bandaged young woman heading back to her room. Not that long ago, Liam would have gone after her without a second though, desperate to find out what was wrong and how he could help.

Now though, he hesitated. He had barely tried to talk to Trista since the attack that had sent her back into the dark shell she inhabited, Liam knew it would be easier to just ignore her and get on with looking after himself.

As he considered that thought, Liam saw Ignot out of the corner of his eye and realised how stupid it was. The big man was probably the greatest example of what happened if you put your own interests ahead of anyone else’s. Cold blooded, calculating and utterly concerned with survival at any cost.

Liam set his mug down on the table, nodded sharply back to Billie and set off quickly down the hall after Trista. It was his nature to try and help people, he refused to become like Ignot. After all, he’d nearly gotten through to Trista before, so he could do it again.
He wished he had the first idea what to say to her though.   
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« Reply #95 on: September 21, 2010, 02:55:28 pm »

Daniel sat in the bed sobbing loudly with his knees tightly up to the rest of his body.
He was shaking violently of both cold and pain. He was exhausted and freezing but he felt there was no way he could go to sleep. He had repeated it a million times in his head that if he went so sleep while freezing then he would never wake up again.
To top of the misery he was also crying now.
Kenneth had simply wrapped a carpet around Daniel and sat down and stared thoughtfully at him.
Though drenched in tears, Daniel wasn't unaware of his surroundings and quickly turned his head when sensing someone at the door.
Daniel cleared out his misty eyes and gazed on the scrawny girl in the doorway.
Upon an automatic inspection of this stranger he could make out that it was a young girl. But the look she gave the both of them looked like it was forged in iron despite that her left eye was covered in bandages.
In a pre-apocalypse situation his instant reaction could've been to exclaim "Mummy head".
Two months ago it would probably have been to unconsciously grab his hammer.
Now he did absolutely nothing but give a weak stare with bloodshot eyes. He was unable to tell if her stare implied that he was being annoying or if she just didn't like newcomers. Or both.
Kenneth looked like if he was about to greet her right before she closed the door without a word.

Daniel took a deep hoarse breath and started wiping tears of his face. He continued to inhaling and exhaling deeply, trying hard to suppress his emotions and to regain his usual indifferent expression.
He jumps at the sudden pat on his right shoulder as Kenneth holds a cup of Cocoa in front of his face. Daniel had been completely oblivious of it.

"Well now that you got that off your chest you should get something to warm up." Kenneth said with a slightly forced cheer.

Daniel stared at the Cocoa in near disbelief but carefully took the cup and inhaled the smell deeply before taking a good sip of it.
Daniel could feel warmth tingle through his body like if the Cocoa was some sort of miracle cure.
He proceeded to lay down in the bed and slowly starts to zone out.

"Dude, just... thanks." Daniel mumbles sulkily . "Say, where is my gun--" he mutters before slipping into the dream realm.
« Last Edit: September 21, 2010, 02:57:37 pm by BrainBlow » Logged

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« Reply #96 on: September 24, 2010, 09:46:47 am »

Ignot sighed as he walked into the kitchen that he had helped build with Kai and Alex. Sitting out were a few mugs of hot cocoa that Kai had made not too long ago Ignot judged by the steam still coming off in gentle whips. He walked over and took a seat at the side table they had set up. Reaching behind himself to grab one of the mugs off of the end of the counter, he settled into his seat, holding the cup in his hands. It was radiating heat and hurt his fingers to hold, but he knew from the stiffness of his fingers and the spikes of pain flaring out of them that he had come very close to getting frostbite.

Keeping the mug close hurt like a bitch, but Ignot had sown his own wounds shut with a sewing needle. He had patched bullet wounds and stemmed blood flow from his own body. Pain wasn’t foreign to him by any stretch of the imagination. He welcomed it at times, as though it was a way to remind him that he was still living.

This was one of those moments.

Listening to the chatter in the main living area as everyone started to settle in seemed distant and muffled to him. He really didn’t care what they were talking about or why they had survived. He left that to Billie or Liam to try and get that information. It was always second hand information anyway. No one ever took him for much more than what he presented: A collected killer. He knew it. It didn’t bother him much.

He pulled back his mask a little over his head to test the temperature of the cocoa. Sipping lightly, it pleasantly warmed his body as it slid down. He grunted in satisfaction and placed the cup back on the table. Sliding his mask off of his face, he rubbed gently, the condensation from the snowfall wet on his face, the dust and grime making a neat line around the seal. He wiped some of it away, the action itself mildly relaxing as he slouched back into the seat. Taking another sip of the rapidly cooling cocoa, he paused mid sip, something garnered his attention.

Placing the cup back down on the table, he grabbed his mask and placed it back on, tenacity returning to his features and body. Placing his hands on the table beside him, he looked back over his shoulder to the figure in the doorway.

“What have I told you about sneaking up on me?”

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« Reply #97 on: September 24, 2010, 03:15:29 pm »

Trista's fingers had just brushed the doorknob when she heard the footfalls behind her. She knew without looking Liam had caught up with her. The teen considered ignoring him; just going in her room and slamming the door in his face if she must but…but that’s not what she wanted. Trista let her hand fall away from the doorknob before turning back to Liam. He was still a good distance away, but she could see the uncertainty painted on his features. Trista wondered if he was scared of her like Sylvester had been…or if he was just at a loss for how to approach her now that he had seen how deeply disturbed she was. Trista kept Liam fixed in her intense gaze for moment, waiting. It only occurred to her after a few minutes of stillness that Liam had followed her lacking the foresight that he may actually catch her…he hadn’t thought of anything to say. Trista felt the corners of her lips twitch, involuntary wanting to turn up in a half-smile. Honestly the awkwardly amused expression probably made her look more out of her mind than she actually was.

“How’ve you survived so long as you have with how little you think ahead?” Trista asked. It was supposed to be a joke, an attempt to poke funny at Liam…but with how her monotone voice sounded even she doubted that her words hadn’t been meant in insult.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“I’d be hard-pressed to sneak up on you in wet snow boots,” Billie retorted. She emphasized her point by taking another step forward, her boots squeaking loudly against the floor.

The doctor crossed the room with chorus of annoying squeaking sounds before completing the task she set out to do…letting Ignot’s coat fall back on his shoulders. A wide sheepish smile crossed the doctor’s face as she shifted the rifle in her hands, knowing how odd it must seem for her to have it considering her disdain for firearms.

“Leland lent it to me. I’m no good with it. Wasted three of his shots before I just used the butt to deal with the zombie,” she explained in an embarrassed fashion, frowning as she noted the blood staining the stock of the otherwise pristinely cared for weapon.
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« Reply #98 on: September 28, 2010, 10:55:57 am »

"Well, that just means we have to get some practice in soon." Ignot said, looking up toward the former paramedic, her smile full once more. It was a rare sight lately, a smile on anyone's faces. It had gotten familiar to him as the days went on in this place. The snow would fall, the zombies would bite, and Billie would smile. He sighed and set the coco down in front of him, hands on his lap as he turned his gaze to the wall. As anyone in the apartment could tell you, Ignot was not the conversationalist of the group. He said what was needed and moved on. He never minced words, softened blows, or even tried to beat around the bush. Unfortunately, this left him rather unapproachable.

Shifting the wet and cold coat off of his shoulders, he placed it on a nearby edge and turned back to her. They just sat there in silence for what seemed like ages, and as much as Ignot would have liked to call it uncomfortable, it wasn't. They sat there, most of what needed to be said communicated silently between them as she sat down with a huff and grabbed her own mug of Coco. It was comfortable.

"You're getting adjusted, I see..." Illaron said. Ignot shook his head as sighed audibly. Of all the times Illaron has to pop his head out, this was just awkward. Billie heard him and turned with concerned eyes.

"You alright?" She asked, eyes already scanning him for possible bites or injuries. He glanced up and tried to gauge what to tell her. She was like a bloodhound on a trail once she got it in her head that something was wrong with someone. He had to say this carefully.

"Fine. Concerned." Billie shifted her weight a little toward him as he leaned back. 'Threw her trail off,' Ignot thought.

"About what?" She asked, sipping gingerly on the cup.

"The engines."

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« Reply #99 on: September 29, 2010, 01:52:46 pm »

"We heard them too" Kenneth said, walking into the kitchen at a slow pace, familiarizing himself with his new "home."

"I mean, Daniel and me... while we was in the apartment, you see..." Kenneth continued, a little sheepish. "I thought we was the only ones. I guess I didn't really think about it too much until just now."

Kenneth paced a bit, knowing full well the big man in the painter's mask knew every single move he made. It didn't matter. Kenneth had no intentions of doing anything rash or stupid. He made sure his coveralls were secured and bundled himself up while slowly moving about.

"Daniel's in his room... out like a light, that boy. He seems like he'll be okay though, 'specially with you takin' care of him," Kenneth said, nodding towards Billie. "I uh... I appreciate it... I appreciate you... both of you, hell... all of you. If it wasn't for us happenin' up on you guys like that, well... I think we'd be fighting our way out and into the cold, with no real plan or supplies. I never did find..."

Kenneth stopped for a moment, realizing that he was really just trailing on. He decided not to go into great detail.

"... never did find Tanya, my sister. She lived in them apartments. Probably ran off with her husband or something. Rich guy, would've known what to do..."

Kenneth huffed and decided to plop down in the nearest seat. His head was full of this and that and his body was running on fumes. While Kenneth was stuck in his thoughts, he didn't realize when he began to doze off...
« Last Edit: September 29, 2010, 01:55:19 pm by B-Chan » Logged

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« Reply #100 on: September 30, 2010, 05:07:45 am »

A crooked grin swept across Liam's face at Trista's words, the creasing around his eyes reflecting the genuine nature of the smile. He wasn't sure if she had been joking or not, her flat voice made it hard to tell, but it was something he wondered often enough himself that he could see the humour in it anyway. It was true that he was hardly the most well-equipped of the group when it came to survival skills, particularly when it came to thinking things out in advance. No wonder he'd never been any good at chess.

"Ridiculous amounts of luck, mostly," he replied, the grin clear in his voice as well. "And I know how to pick my friends."

His smile faltered after a moment more, and he unconsciously worried at his bottom lip with his teeth. He wasn't certain what to say next; he desperately wanted to try and bridge the gap that had been growing between them, but he still couldn't seem to find the words to do it. Liam stuck his hands in the pockets of his jacket, frustration obvious on his features.

"Look," Liam began, then paused and stared up at the ceiling for a moment, as if looking for a script on the chipped plaster. "After we got hit and Mr. Matheson and Locke were killed I pretty much stopped talking to you, I shouldn't have. I wanted to say I was sorry for that, leaving you alone, I mean."

He lapsed into silence, certain he hadn't expressed himself at all coherently, but so be it. Liam didn't mention that he had stopped trying to talk to her because she had stopped trying to talk to him, but that wasn't much of an excuse in his book anyway. When someone else needed help, you didn't stop offering simply because they didn't want you to.

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Now hollow fires burn out to black, and lights are guttering low.
Square your shoulders, lift your pack, and leave your friends and go.
Oh, never fear, man, naught's to dread, look not to left nor right:
In all the endless road you tread, there's nothing but the night.
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« Reply #101 on: September 30, 2010, 10:13:18 pm »

"Are you alright, Little Bear?"
"I'm okay, Mama Betty. Where's Mr. Frank?"
"Mr. Frank is sleeping right now, he was tired. It's bedtime for you, too."
"Okay Mama. I love you."
"I love you, too, Little Bear." Bethany leaned forward and kissed the forehead of little Anthony as the boy yawned and closed his eyes, quickly falling into a comfortabl slumber after the day's ordeals. Bethany quietly thanked the Lord for allowing the child to have a peaceful rest. Her own time for sleep would have to come later, however. She was curious as to the inhabitants of their new shelter. If there was any possibility of danger to her or her charge,  she would know of it now, so she could make preparations to leave, or escape as the case may be.

After ensuring that the boy was tucked into the makeshift covers of her sweater and skirt, the woman rose and exited the room they were given, pulling the door in to close but leaving a crack open to allow what light, if any, there was to filter in. She then entered the common area, looking around to see which if their rescuers/captors were around. It was time to learn something about these people...

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« Last Edit: September 30, 2010, 11:07:18 pm by Xanatos » Logged
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« Reply #102 on: October 01, 2010, 03:28:30 am »

The cold gnawed at Jack's hands as he cautiously moved through the deserted road. At least it had been abandoned by the living. His finger squeezed the trigger of his revolver, a shot rung at followed by a dull thud as the abomination fell to the ground dead. Jack stopped for a moment, the cool air had kept him alert but the eventual numbness was an unwelcome side effect. He slid the peacemaker into the holster at his hip and rubbed the now free hands together. Another thought struck him and he buried his right hand within the messenger bag hung at his other hip. A few seconds later the hand emerged with a small bottle nearly full with Russian vodka. His numb fingers struggled with the lid initially but it soon came off and moments later the strong taste hit the back of his throat. A contorted face announced the strength and the bottle quickly found its way back to the bottom of the bag. He knew it would only make him 'feel' warm but that was all that seemed to matter.

The road looked clear for now and he began to move forward at a quicker pace. His pickaxe was now gripped in both hands, it was a clumsy weapon certainly but seemed to intimidate survivors if his pistol didn't. That was one of the biggest problems with this new world, not the zombies but the other survivors who felt as though they had the right to take from others. The memories of his last run-in with such a group was still clear in his mind, at least it distracted him from the darker events of the past.

He saw the apartment building now, at first glance it was no different to any other but he knew it was the right place. Those dark brown eyes of his stared upwards at it, as though it were calling his name. Jack moved towards it as he begun to shout.

“I! Need! Some! Help! Down! Here!” he paused in between each word to punctuate them. The former student turned his back to the building and braced himself, such a loud outburst was unlikely to go unnoticed...

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« Reply #103 on: October 05, 2010, 11:49:42 pm »

Leland twisted his back and winced at the loud crack that followed. Carrying Daniel was no easy feat, and it did a number on his shoulders and back. He stood up from the bed and picked up his wet clothes and boots, setting them in the corner. Using some scrounged cardboard and two-by-fours, he constructed a small rack to hang the clothes on. He then wheeled his heater over to the clothes, and aimed it accordingly. Leland knew that the night would be cold, but dry clothes in the morning would be a more welcome gift. 

Feeling restless, he began to pace again. He found a stale, hole-ridden, stained, and scratchy brown sweater in the back of his closet, under some drywall dust. It would be the cleanest, most comfortable thing he had worn in days. Leland donned extra socks, and his only other pair of jeans (they never did fit quite right in the crotch.) “Can’t just laze around.” He murmured, looping on his belt and pistol holster.

______________________________________________________________________________________________
Leland stepped out of his room and shivered when he stepped in water; melted snow. “Oh sonova…”

He could hear Billie and Ignot talking in the kitchen, although Billie was most likely the one doing the talking. He had thought about checking in on Alex, he had yet to have a chance to “touch base” as it were. As he crossed the common room however, he saw the woman from the apartment buildings in the threshold. Leland remembered his first days at the complex, and took a few tentative steps towards her. With his unshaven face, sunken eyes, low-cut Mohawk, and brown sweater, he looked more like a scraggly dog than a young man.

“Uh, H-hullo there Ma’am.” He said, smiling. “I’m Leland. Welcome. Is there anything I kin' get for you ‘n the boy?”
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« Reply #104 on: October 06, 2010, 02:38:04 am »

Bethany looked over to the one who had spoken to her, her eyes taking in his unkempt appearance and her lips formed into a frown. She wondered just how long these people had managed to defend themselves in this place, and what tragedies must have occurred amongst them. Well, she was here now, and the Lord must have known she would be needed, so she would do what she could to help these people...as long as their intentions were pure. The frown became a soft smile after a moment as the teacher replied gently, "Thank you, Leland, but we are alright. I've just put Anthony to bed; the boy needs his rest."
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