| Getting to Grips. | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 13 2012, 06:05 PM (47 Views) | |
| Chuck Byers | Jun 13 2012, 06:05 PM Post #1 |
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The night is heavy, darker then it has ever been since the start of what can only be known as "The Incident". The dirt road crackles with the sound of a car slowly coming to a stop. The man inside it desperately tries to get the car moving again, but to no avail. He bangs on the steering wheel a few times, letting out an angry grunt. He leads his eyes to the gas meter. It is as he thought; an empty tank. Letting out a brief sigh, the man reaches to the passenger seat. He scavenges around in his backpack, pulling out a 9mm pistol. He had found it earlier in the broken window of a gun store, along with a few bullets. He consciously opens the car door and sticks his head out to look both directions, then coming out of the car with the gun in his right hand. His eyes scan the area, and he catches a glimpse of what used to be a human. Slumped against a tree, it is motionless. Blood smeared all over it. The man disregards it, for what could he do? Death was inevitable out here, he knew this, being all too familiar with how the concept of a zombie apocalypse worked. It never ended well and wouldn't for him. The man takes a few steps forward and notices a figure in the distance, it is slumped and it's groans could be heard a mile off. THE MAN HEY!!! I'M TALKING TO YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!! He gets what he wanted; the walker's attention. It limps to The Man's location and he takes aim. Firmly pulling the trigger, the bullet races into the walker's side, throwing it back a bit but it keeps true. He takes aim again, but his lack firearm experience betrays him here, the bullet firing clear over the walker's head. It is getting close, and so The Man takes aim a third time and pulls the trigger. There was no report. Stumbling , he climbs back into the car and fumbles around in the backpack for another MAG, there is nothing. Panicked, he takes the meat cleaver laid on the seat and rushes towards the walker. He kicks it down to the ground and hacks away at the head area, leaving it just an ugly collection of flesh. The walker's body, or what is left of it, lays still on the now crimson grass. The Man takes a moment to observe what he'd done, shocked at the result. He carefully searches the dead body's pockets, finding only wallet with about 6 dollars and a Sears card. It lands softly on the grass as The man tosses it behind him. The man was still trembling a little, he was still getting to grips with having to kill what was once human to survive. But he was coping. He walks back over to the car and drags the backpack to the drivers side. A water bottle is the item he pulls out, soaking his right hand with a tiny bit of the water, in an attempt to wash the blood away. He collects the gun and puts it along with the water bottle, into the backpack and drapes it over his shoulder. The cleaver still in his hands, he set off in the direction the walker came from. After all, Chuck has no other options. The Walker's direction is his best bet. Because it came from there, he knew that indicated there was some civilization that way, which meant he could get more supplies, and hope for some survivors. Edited by Chuck Byers, Jun 13 2012, 06:10 PM.
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8:28 PM Jul 10
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8:28 PM Jul 10