Aftermath (Joey, Alexander, Jonathan, Hannah, Ryder)
Oct 28, 2016 5:21:58 GMT -5
Charles Murphy likes this
Post by Analia Bennet on Oct 28, 2016 5:21:58 GMT -5
S/Sgt. Jonathan Hayes
Analia’s shoulders slumped under the weight of the bag, she’d insisted on carrying the supplies hoping to blame the numb feeling in her back on a physical object rather than the guilt that hovered over her ever since Rachel died. The hospital had become crowded with the dead, again. They were forced out by circumstance and everyone that had sacrificed their lives for the success of their endeavor were left behind. She felt her legs ache down the road before she abruptly turned into an alleyway and let the bag fall to the pavement with a thud. Her back pressed against the wall with her knees bent and her palms resting on her lap. Analia’s breaths were rapid and shallow, she was tired from running. The dead hadn’t only retaken the hospital but they’d occupied most of the space surrounding the location. For now the alley was safe, clear of any harm whether it be living or dead. At least they could pause for a moment and catch their breath, after all they had been running for quite some time. Perhaps they were trying to run from their losses as much they were from the walkers.
She didn’t have the words to convey to Hayes, the death of his friends had been a hard hit that she couldn’t begin to understand. She barely knew any of the people they had set out with and their deaths had taken a massive toll on her as well, knowing how it affected her she was unable to imagine how terrible it had been for Jonathan. Analia rested her head against the wall with a slightly painful thud, she closed her eyes looking to the sky hoping to dig up what strength she had left. Like she always did. There was no way she could possibly tell him how sorry she was, sorry never did much good in the first place. So she settled for something much easier, words that didn’t knot in her throat when she breathed.
“Jon” she called for his attention, her head quickly slipped past the corner of the wall to note that the, “You good?” it was the first time she really asked him whether he was alright. Just because he was a soldier didn’t mean he had to be strong all the time. Her breathing slowly steadied as she straightened her back standing against the wall with her shoes against the bag she’d set down. If there was any reason for them to run then she didn’t want to waste time fumbling to get the bag of supplies they’d worked so damn hard for. Her eyes focused on Jonathan with sympathy and worry, she wondered for a brief moment if they would even make it back to the stadium.
Analia’s shoulders slumped under the weight of the bag, she’d insisted on carrying the supplies hoping to blame the numb feeling in her back on a physical object rather than the guilt that hovered over her ever since Rachel died. The hospital had become crowded with the dead, again. They were forced out by circumstance and everyone that had sacrificed their lives for the success of their endeavor were left behind. She felt her legs ache down the road before she abruptly turned into an alleyway and let the bag fall to the pavement with a thud. Her back pressed against the wall with her knees bent and her palms resting on her lap. Analia’s breaths were rapid and shallow, she was tired from running. The dead hadn’t only retaken the hospital but they’d occupied most of the space surrounding the location. For now the alley was safe, clear of any harm whether it be living or dead. At least they could pause for a moment and catch their breath, after all they had been running for quite some time. Perhaps they were trying to run from their losses as much they were from the walkers.
She didn’t have the words to convey to Hayes, the death of his friends had been a hard hit that she couldn’t begin to understand. She barely knew any of the people they had set out with and their deaths had taken a massive toll on her as well, knowing how it affected her she was unable to imagine how terrible it had been for Jonathan. Analia rested her head against the wall with a slightly painful thud, she closed her eyes looking to the sky hoping to dig up what strength she had left. Like she always did. There was no way she could possibly tell him how sorry she was, sorry never did much good in the first place. So she settled for something much easier, words that didn’t knot in her throat when she breathed.
“Jon” she called for his attention, her head quickly slipped past the corner of the wall to note that the, “You good?” it was the first time she really asked him whether he was alright. Just because he was a soldier didn’t mean he had to be strong all the time. Her breathing slowly steadied as she straightened her back standing against the wall with her shoes against the bag she’d set down. If there was any reason for them to run then she didn’t want to waste time fumbling to get the bag of supplies they’d worked so damn hard for. Her eyes focused on Jonathan with sympathy and worry, she wondered for a brief moment if they would even make it back to the stadium.