Post by Deleted on May 16, 2016 11:59:26 GMT -5
"Shit, shit, shit."
That was what went through Kenneth`s mind as he ran for his life through the streets of Baton Rouge, seeking refuge from a horde of hungry growlers that were constantly on his heels trying to catch him. Oh how he regretted ever stepping foot into the big city, it had only gotten worse since he did. Come to think of it he wished he had avoided it entirely, sticking to the land he knew. He missed his home, North Carolina where he grew up in a small town along the coast, yet he had ventured west, hoping to find any sort of civilization that could make it all better. It was that hope that kept him going, but lately it had started to looked real grim.
Rounding the corners of the street and taking the backwater ways to escape, he stabbed whoever got to close, slipping through in between the ranks of the dead whenever he could. When large groups blocked the path he fired his M4 rifle, not caring whether it attracted more to his location, as it no longer mattered. Good thing his backpack was light, or he would have been slowed down by the mere weight of it.
After minutes trying to escape the densely populated area, he found himself trapped in an alley. The dead was closing in and he was running out of options, he tried to jump up to reach the fire-escape attached to one of the buildings, but the ladder fell down as soon he touched it. He was near a parking garage, though saw no way of entry. The situation was getting desperate and he was about to panic, knowing that this could be the moment he died.
That was what went through Kenneth`s mind as he ran for his life through the streets of Baton Rouge, seeking refuge from a horde of hungry growlers that were constantly on his heels trying to catch him. Oh how he regretted ever stepping foot into the big city, it had only gotten worse since he did. Come to think of it he wished he had avoided it entirely, sticking to the land he knew. He missed his home, North Carolina where he grew up in a small town along the coast, yet he had ventured west, hoping to find any sort of civilization that could make it all better. It was that hope that kept him going, but lately it had started to looked real grim.
Rounding the corners of the street and taking the backwater ways to escape, he stabbed whoever got to close, slipping through in between the ranks of the dead whenever he could. When large groups blocked the path he fired his M4 rifle, not caring whether it attracted more to his location, as it no longer mattered. Good thing his backpack was light, or he would have been slowed down by the mere weight of it.
After minutes trying to escape the densely populated area, he found himself trapped in an alley. The dead was closing in and he was running out of options, he tried to jump up to reach the fire-escape attached to one of the buildings, but the ladder fell down as soon he touched it. He was near a parking garage, though saw no way of entry. The situation was getting desperate and he was about to panic, knowing that this could be the moment he died.