Post by Deleted on Jun 11, 2016 9:30:58 GMT -5
Tom ran, as fast as his shoes could carry him. He ran, the shouting eventfully stopping behind him. They gave up the chase, gave up the hunt. He caught his breath, leaning agaisnt an old brick building. His face was red, chest rising and falling. He felt like he just stole third, or caught the hale merry. He was out of breath, hadn't ran that long, that fast in a while.
He looed at the rifle in his hand, the lack of a strap already a problem. It was big clunky, and he had to hold it the whole time. He only had the clip, so he had tomusemthemfireto sparingly. The blood stained wooden shiv wasn't also not the greatest. But until he found a knife, it's all he had.
The wind came, a short shiver. It had rained yesterday, heard it all through the streets. The way it came down on the roof, you could t hear much else. It was probably how he got away.
Even now, his shirt was damp, clinging to him. He shivered again. He'd need to find a jacket, if the sun didn't come out, he'd need one. He continued to walk, moving through a hole in a fence and cutting down an alley. truthfully, he was lost. Until he saw something he recognized, he didn't know where he was.
Hours passed, it was mid day now, the sun high. Still wasn't to warm, but the sun hit you just right it was nice. Most likely, would rain again. He needed to find shelter. But at least he knew roughly where he was. As he continued down the streets he moved around fences and cars, avoiding the stumbling desd.
He came upon an old house, it was a the suburbs. White picket fence, long grown out long. One of the shutters had fallen off and the window was smashed on the top floor. But he knew the place, recognized it instantly. It was Neal's.
He rushed forward and opened the door. Closing it behind him he moved the nearest object in front, a bench used to store shoes. Now he could rest easy. He had no clue if Neal would be here, or even if he was In the city. All Tom knew was he had to check. If there was sing, a clue pointing to where he had to go, he wanted to know. He had to find Neal.
Since Maron left him, he didn't want to go back. He wanted to find Neal. He was done with the bayou, done with his family. How could he face them, knowing Maron betrayed him like he did. The coward would probably have run off, went home to momma. Tom knew he left him to die. Just ran. His own brother left behind.
Tom rubbed along his face. Please be here, please in the city at least, he thought to himself. As he moved toward the living room he looked around. There were picture if Neal, his sister, his family. He wondered if any of the. We're still alive. His own family was barely alive, Odette, Maron, and momma.
He moved along, going to the closet and grabbing a shoe string off an old beat up runner. Tieing it to both the barrel and the but of the gun he made his way to the kitchen. If Neal wasn't here, he would try the gym, maybe the school. After that he could try the park where he took him every time he came, or the bookstore, the little coffee shop. There were so many places, that didn't even span that far out. Where would Neal keep away fro three years?
He looed at the rifle in his hand, the lack of a strap already a problem. It was big clunky, and he had to hold it the whole time. He only had the clip, so he had tomusemthemfireto sparingly. The blood stained wooden shiv wasn't also not the greatest. But until he found a knife, it's all he had.
The wind came, a short shiver. It had rained yesterday, heard it all through the streets. The way it came down on the roof, you could t hear much else. It was probably how he got away.
Even now, his shirt was damp, clinging to him. He shivered again. He'd need to find a jacket, if the sun didn't come out, he'd need one. He continued to walk, moving through a hole in a fence and cutting down an alley. truthfully, he was lost. Until he saw something he recognized, he didn't know where he was.
Hours passed, it was mid day now, the sun high. Still wasn't to warm, but the sun hit you just right it was nice. Most likely, would rain again. He needed to find shelter. But at least he knew roughly where he was. As he continued down the streets he moved around fences and cars, avoiding the stumbling desd.
He came upon an old house, it was a the suburbs. White picket fence, long grown out long. One of the shutters had fallen off and the window was smashed on the top floor. But he knew the place, recognized it instantly. It was Neal's.
He rushed forward and opened the door. Closing it behind him he moved the nearest object in front, a bench used to store shoes. Now he could rest easy. He had no clue if Neal would be here, or even if he was In the city. All Tom knew was he had to check. If there was sing, a clue pointing to where he had to go, he wanted to know. He had to find Neal.
Since Maron left him, he didn't want to go back. He wanted to find Neal. He was done with the bayou, done with his family. How could he face them, knowing Maron betrayed him like he did. The coward would probably have run off, went home to momma. Tom knew he left him to die. Just ran. His own brother left behind.
Tom rubbed along his face. Please be here, please in the city at least, he thought to himself. As he moved toward the living room he looked around. There were picture if Neal, his sister, his family. He wondered if any of the. We're still alive. His own family was barely alive, Odette, Maron, and momma.
He moved along, going to the closet and grabbing a shoe string off an old beat up runner. Tieing it to both the barrel and the but of the gun he made his way to the kitchen. If Neal wasn't here, he would try the gym, maybe the school. After that he could try the park where he took him every time he came, or the bookstore, the little coffee shop. There were so many places, that didn't even span that far out. Where would Neal keep away fro three years?