Post by Deleted on Jan 7, 2017 23:16:50 GMT -5
Rook was taking a look around when he heard Julie’s voice. He moved so that he could see her. Not wanting to yell across the garage and risk bringing any walkers outside knocking. One side of his mouth tilted up with a smirk when he heard the tone that signified that perhaps she was at least a tiny bit worried. “I could have.” He said with a small shrug that he immediately regretted. He stiffened for a moment and then reached over to grab one of the helmets that sat on the wall. It had a light affixed to the top as many of the rescue helmets did. He pushed the button and miraculously it came to life. He handed it over to Julie and then found another working on for himself before he slipped it over his head and clipped it. Hands free.
He still had the axe. But it looked like downstairs was clear. He nodded to the stairs and began to climb them. Stopping for a moment to gather his strength before pushing himself on. Upstairs was completely empty thankfully. It seemed the one man had been a lone soldier who had tried to hold it together as long as possible. There was an assortment of canned goods. Bottled water. Snack food that had possibly expired but was so damn full of sugar it wouldn’t make much difference. It was a small kitchen with a small table and white cabinetry as well as a deep sink and a small stove and microwave. Simple, useful for the people who had needed to stay here.
It was getting cold. Winter was here. But thankfully they weren’t in the lowest part of California so it was still bearable. Throw on a coat or jacket and you were fine. Rook reached down and sat a couple bottles of the water on the table along with his bottle of liquor. He found a few water flavor packets and tossed them on the table as well. Sweet tea. She sounded like a southern belle. What southern gal didn’t like sweet tea?
He grabbed a package of off brand oreos and sat down at the small table with a sigh. He was fucking starving. It had been a few days since he had found the strength to scavenge anything. But at least he hadn’t froze his ass off. This time of year in texas? Hell… One minute nothing and then the next you were knee deep in snow.
He slumped down in the chair and popped an oreo on his mouth before laying the package on the table in case Julie wanted one. Instead of drinking the water he opted for the stronger punch, chasing down the sweet with the burning bitter. After another couple oreos were scarfed down he paused long enough to look at Julie. Really look at her for the first time since she had rescued him. He was in a rough place. Now at least he didn’t feel like death warmed over. She was beautiful, with long hair that fell like a veil around her shoulders. Golden of course. With bright expressive eyes. She was so different than Ava.
Ava.
The name was like a sucker punch and Rook looked down at the table, suddenly not feeling hungry any longer. He took another drink. Taking several swallows this time and feeling the harsh burn of not so top shelf liquor. As it had a way of doing…drinking made him feel hot. He really wasn’t…but alcohol made you feel like it. He was just staring at the bottle now, his mood dampened, before taking another swallow. He felt like he was burning up. And with an almost annoyed growl he reached down to pull his stained shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor.
He wasn’t hitting on Julie…not at this moment anyway. The alcohol was doing its magic and while Rook wasn’t drunk yet his neck wasn’t throbbing. He rolled his stiff shoulders and hunched over the table to let his elbows rest. He was a rather heavily muscled man, though more of necessity than on purpose. His deep jagged scars ran from near his spine to branch out on each shoulder. Much like if a birds wings were to be cut from its body, so were his scars. They ached, they itched, they burned. A constant fucking reminder of his stupidity that he had no intention of repeating.
He was too lost in his own thoughts to even consider that Julie might see them again if she wandered behind him. One of his hands falling to cover his pocket that held the ultrasound picture as he tried to drink it all away…
He still had the axe. But it looked like downstairs was clear. He nodded to the stairs and began to climb them. Stopping for a moment to gather his strength before pushing himself on. Upstairs was completely empty thankfully. It seemed the one man had been a lone soldier who had tried to hold it together as long as possible. There was an assortment of canned goods. Bottled water. Snack food that had possibly expired but was so damn full of sugar it wouldn’t make much difference. It was a small kitchen with a small table and white cabinetry as well as a deep sink and a small stove and microwave. Simple, useful for the people who had needed to stay here.
It was getting cold. Winter was here. But thankfully they weren’t in the lowest part of California so it was still bearable. Throw on a coat or jacket and you were fine. Rook reached down and sat a couple bottles of the water on the table along with his bottle of liquor. He found a few water flavor packets and tossed them on the table as well. Sweet tea. She sounded like a southern belle. What southern gal didn’t like sweet tea?
He grabbed a package of off brand oreos and sat down at the small table with a sigh. He was fucking starving. It had been a few days since he had found the strength to scavenge anything. But at least he hadn’t froze his ass off. This time of year in texas? Hell… One minute nothing and then the next you were knee deep in snow.
He slumped down in the chair and popped an oreo on his mouth before laying the package on the table in case Julie wanted one. Instead of drinking the water he opted for the stronger punch, chasing down the sweet with the burning bitter. After another couple oreos were scarfed down he paused long enough to look at Julie. Really look at her for the first time since she had rescued him. He was in a rough place. Now at least he didn’t feel like death warmed over. She was beautiful, with long hair that fell like a veil around her shoulders. Golden of course. With bright expressive eyes. She was so different than Ava.
Ava.
The name was like a sucker punch and Rook looked down at the table, suddenly not feeling hungry any longer. He took another drink. Taking several swallows this time and feeling the harsh burn of not so top shelf liquor. As it had a way of doing…drinking made him feel hot. He really wasn’t…but alcohol made you feel like it. He was just staring at the bottle now, his mood dampened, before taking another swallow. He felt like he was burning up. And with an almost annoyed growl he reached down to pull his stained shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor.
He wasn’t hitting on Julie…not at this moment anyway. The alcohol was doing its magic and while Rook wasn’t drunk yet his neck wasn’t throbbing. He rolled his stiff shoulders and hunched over the table to let his elbows rest. He was a rather heavily muscled man, though more of necessity than on purpose. His deep jagged scars ran from near his spine to branch out on each shoulder. Much like if a birds wings were to be cut from its body, so were his scars. They ached, they itched, they burned. A constant fucking reminder of his stupidity that he had no intention of repeating.
He was too lost in his own thoughts to even consider that Julie might see them again if she wandered behind him. One of his hands falling to cover his pocket that held the ultrasound picture as he tried to drink it all away…