Post by Darius Esser on Jan 24, 2017 18:06:00 GMT -5
Darius changed his position in the clump of blankets he had piled up by the wall. He rubbed at the ache in his leg as it had been one side or the other through the duration of the night. Sleep came in fits, and the wood flooring caused him to shift tirelessly. The entire house stunk same as every other place he spent the night. In short it was a damp and unsuitable place to spend the night in.
Before long he tended to the fire in his small cooking-pit and set a small blaze. In between keeping an eye on the outside, he put water and a little rice into a pot. He ate his breakfast sitting in the doorway of the closest room to the stairs so he could keep watch of the clearing down below, especially the front door. Figuring that the scent of cooking smoke would lure anyone who may have been lingering into the house.
He set aside the bowl he ate from, and thought then of what he was going to do next. He thought of where he chose to spend the night, and where he could wind up come tomorrow. He had a section of string strung up across the door frame of the room and tied off on the far side. He kept watch out in several directions, not forgetting the distant slope of the hill from the outside that could allow anyone who passed by to peer in on him. He didn't know if there even was any need to take so many precautions. But a person couldn't live very long by tasking these types of situations lightly.
Several years on the road had taught him to let go of some suspicions though. To let leaves fall without suspecting an ambush of some kind. Or to listen to the rasping moans of walkers on the road, and not immediately think of getting to cover. He had to take things easy while it was just him looking out for his well being. He could take precautions all he liked, but he would not panic.
That was part of the wisdom he obtained while he was on his own, how to rest without one eye open, walking to a river without checking over his shoulders. To travel through the woods, and doze in the field as he pleased. Now he sat in the dark, hands in lap and insects crawling over his clothes. The cramped area making his limbs ache, every muscle on edge and his stomach uneasy with anxiety. His brain thinking of the outside and every noise he detected.
He waited, and stole glances out the window and the clearing of walkers on the street, the surrounding buildings and that hill. All eyes constantly surveying. He saw nothing stir out of the ordinary shuffling of the dead.
He suspected trouble to come in the hours just before sunrise, and rubbed his eyes and kept scanning the shadows on all sides of the house for the tiniest disturbances. He had been in worse situations. While the sun began to rise he fought the urge to sleep, trying to think whether there was anything he had overlooked. Anything someone might do, and what approaches one might take in order to set up an effective ambush. But finally with enough light to show the corners and remove shadows around the house, he stood.
He drew the makeshift curtain from the doorway and quickly stepped out of the room towards the stairs. His rucksack was clenched tightly in the palm of his hand simply because he couldn't risk the noise it would make on his back. When he reached the foyer, Darius finally creaked the wooden door leading out into the open inwards, and stepped onto the porch. He felt exposed the entire time he walked, limping slightly. The clearing that had been made provided enough distance between him and the nearby walkers that he needn't worry if he was careful. Of course there were always stragglers which turned in his direction but they never seemed to draw the attention of the dead around them. He walked down the center of the street, because he wasn't going to run now.
If there were more people around him now, they had made no move during the most opportune moment they had in the dark, so he reasoned by now that he had worried for nothing. Waiting until daylight when they had the dark was a stupid move if anyone fully intended on killing him. It was most likely just a walker that he caught from the corner of his eye that worried him the night previous, being a fool and giving him a sore leg.
Before long he tended to the fire in his small cooking-pit and set a small blaze. In between keeping an eye on the outside, he put water and a little rice into a pot. He ate his breakfast sitting in the doorway of the closest room to the stairs so he could keep watch of the clearing down below, especially the front door. Figuring that the scent of cooking smoke would lure anyone who may have been lingering into the house.
He set aside the bowl he ate from, and thought then of what he was going to do next. He thought of where he chose to spend the night, and where he could wind up come tomorrow. He had a section of string strung up across the door frame of the room and tied off on the far side. He kept watch out in several directions, not forgetting the distant slope of the hill from the outside that could allow anyone who passed by to peer in on him. He didn't know if there even was any need to take so many precautions. But a person couldn't live very long by tasking these types of situations lightly.
Several years on the road had taught him to let go of some suspicions though. To let leaves fall without suspecting an ambush of some kind. Or to listen to the rasping moans of walkers on the road, and not immediately think of getting to cover. He had to take things easy while it was just him looking out for his well being. He could take precautions all he liked, but he would not panic.
That was part of the wisdom he obtained while he was on his own, how to rest without one eye open, walking to a river without checking over his shoulders. To travel through the woods, and doze in the field as he pleased. Now he sat in the dark, hands in lap and insects crawling over his clothes. The cramped area making his limbs ache, every muscle on edge and his stomach uneasy with anxiety. His brain thinking of the outside and every noise he detected.
He waited, and stole glances out the window and the clearing of walkers on the street, the surrounding buildings and that hill. All eyes constantly surveying. He saw nothing stir out of the ordinary shuffling of the dead.
He suspected trouble to come in the hours just before sunrise, and rubbed his eyes and kept scanning the shadows on all sides of the house for the tiniest disturbances. He had been in worse situations. While the sun began to rise he fought the urge to sleep, trying to think whether there was anything he had overlooked. Anything someone might do, and what approaches one might take in order to set up an effective ambush. But finally with enough light to show the corners and remove shadows around the house, he stood.
He drew the makeshift curtain from the doorway and quickly stepped out of the room towards the stairs. His rucksack was clenched tightly in the palm of his hand simply because he couldn't risk the noise it would make on his back. When he reached the foyer, Darius finally creaked the wooden door leading out into the open inwards, and stepped onto the porch. He felt exposed the entire time he walked, limping slightly. The clearing that had been made provided enough distance between him and the nearby walkers that he needn't worry if he was careful. Of course there were always stragglers which turned in his direction but they never seemed to draw the attention of the dead around them. He walked down the center of the street, because he wasn't going to run now.
If there were more people around him now, they had made no move during the most opportune moment they had in the dark, so he reasoned by now that he had worried for nothing. Waiting until daylight when they had the dark was a stupid move if anyone fully intended on killing him. It was most likely just a walker that he caught from the corner of his eye that worried him the night previous, being a fool and giving him a sore leg.