Post by Jack Bense on Jul 28, 2016 9:39:31 GMT -5
Jack pulled the tiny little pickup truck into the little strip mall on the country road. There was a diner, a pawn shop, and some kind of clothing store. At this point they were getting desperate. Quota was harder and harder to meet. They busted their ass day in and day out. A month now, maybe a little over, they put up with the rairders
Josie was right in his mind, why didn't they leave. But Max insiste don staying. He insiste don the. Not being able to go. Where would they go anyway? If Kennedy found them once, he could do it again. There was no stopping that man. He was ruthless. Got what he wanted. The little time Jack had meet him, he understood that.
With th a group like this, you didn't win. You either got even, or you lost. Many of the others didn't see it that way though. You're best to avoid the bullshit, stay out of the drama. So that's what he did. Fend for his friends, and himself. All the mattered. They were alive at least.
He put the truck in park and got out. It was a hot summer's day. His shirt stained in sweat. Mid day, the sun high in the sky. He did all he could to not just over heat. Slowly he grabbed the rifle from the back, sling it over his shoulder by the strap.
Georgia and Josie were with him. Josie knew the place, or had seen it before. It was enough. They hoped to find some food, supplies, maybe some new clothing. Right now anything. Would be good. As long as the readers kept asking for the same amount, they'd survive. Barely, but they'd survive.
He looked at the first building, the pawnshop. The window was smashed, but the metal,grate behind it still,stood. They'd have to find another way it if it was locked. Maybe the building beside it had access. He moved along. "What do you think we'll find," he asked, looking from Georgia to Josie.
Moving on to the next building, the diner he pushed the door open. It was unlocked. Stepping inside he noticed the layer of dust covering everything. The place hadn't been touched in a while. He didn't know if that was good or bad. It could mean there was supplies, or it was so picked over long ago no one bothered coming back.
Jack moved along, stepping over a broken plate and a broken coffee pot. From the counter a walker stumbled out. It was skin and bones, and still dressed in the waitress uniform. What once had been a bun was no overgrown and messy strands. It snarled at Jack.
Taking the the butt of the rifle he s asked it agasint the walkers face. Smashing it again he watched as it fell, blood coming from its head. It was done yet, still snapped at him. He smashed the face, again, turning it to gooey mush.
Standing up up he dusted his hands off on his pants. "Let's split up and look for supplies. Diner isn't inst that big, but we can cover more."
Josie was right in his mind, why didn't they leave. But Max insiste don staying. He insiste don the. Not being able to go. Where would they go anyway? If Kennedy found them once, he could do it again. There was no stopping that man. He was ruthless. Got what he wanted. The little time Jack had meet him, he understood that.
With th a group like this, you didn't win. You either got even, or you lost. Many of the others didn't see it that way though. You're best to avoid the bullshit, stay out of the drama. So that's what he did. Fend for his friends, and himself. All the mattered. They were alive at least.
He put the truck in park and got out. It was a hot summer's day. His shirt stained in sweat. Mid day, the sun high in the sky. He did all he could to not just over heat. Slowly he grabbed the rifle from the back, sling it over his shoulder by the strap.
Georgia and Josie were with him. Josie knew the place, or had seen it before. It was enough. They hoped to find some food, supplies, maybe some new clothing. Right now anything. Would be good. As long as the readers kept asking for the same amount, they'd survive. Barely, but they'd survive.
He looked at the first building, the pawnshop. The window was smashed, but the metal,grate behind it still,stood. They'd have to find another way it if it was locked. Maybe the building beside it had access. He moved along. "What do you think we'll find," he asked, looking from Georgia to Josie.
Moving on to the next building, the diner he pushed the door open. It was unlocked. Stepping inside he noticed the layer of dust covering everything. The place hadn't been touched in a while. He didn't know if that was good or bad. It could mean there was supplies, or it was so picked over long ago no one bothered coming back.
Jack moved along, stepping over a broken plate and a broken coffee pot. From the counter a walker stumbled out. It was skin and bones, and still dressed in the waitress uniform. What once had been a bun was no overgrown and messy strands. It snarled at Jack.
Taking the the butt of the rifle he s asked it agasint the walkers face. Smashing it again he watched as it fell, blood coming from its head. It was done yet, still snapped at him. He smashed the face, again, turning it to gooey mush.
Standing up up he dusted his hands off on his pants. "Let's split up and look for supplies. Diner isn't inst that big, but we can cover more."