Post by Deleted on Jun 8, 2017 0:29:39 GMT -5
Was it truly any surprise that Rook had bailed? It was the general consensus that he was a man that didn’t do well with commitment, with others depending on him. And then he had ran into Julie, a woman whom he hardly knew but had quickly grown protective of. And then Sophia arrived, with her his son and the news of Ava’s death. It was all too much and the poison in his veins urged him to move on. The horde that hit was all too convenient and once they were separated he hadn’t looked back.
It had been quite a while now since Rook had fallen in with gang of bandits. His cold aloof nature allowing him to quickly adapt to their lifestyle. It was simple. Killing and raiding to get what they wanted or needed. Easy. There was no one here he would make a connection with. No one that would make him think about the despicable human he now was. That was for the best.
For the moment Rook along with a few of his companions were sitting on a rooftop. One of the men had a sniper rifle at the ready watching the streets. Just waiting for a survivor to appear so that he could blow off the man or woman’s head. And then Rook and the others would go take anything they might consider useful. It was a cowardly easy way of gathering supplies but he didn’t really give a damn.
Rook was leaned back against the short wall that lined the roof, one leg curled in a relaxed arc and the other stretched out before him. A cigarette was between his lips and on occasion he would pull it away to flick the ash. He didn’t speak all that often now and none of the other men pressured him to. It wasn’t their way. Their existence was a rather primal one, food, water, protection, and shelter. On occasion when a female survivor crossed their paths the other men would indulge in other pleasures as well. Rook wasn’t a man with many morals but that was something he didn’t participate in, a long walk while killing some walkers always helped with the screaming that seemed to linger in his head for days.
Today was dreary weather and with rain on the horizon the group collectively decided to pack it in for the night. With the weapons and things indoors that would ruin or rust Rook decided to head out for a walk. Sometimes he just needed a break from all the voices and with a cigarette between his lips he headed out the front door of the apartment building with a backward wave at anyone that might take notice. He knew the revolver on his hip was full and he had his trusty blade if needed. But Rook never really grew fearful of walkers any longer. They were more of a nuisance than anything.
Several rubble filled streets later Rook paused beneath a half crumbled awning and took a long drag. Letting the smoke plume from his mouth and out into the falling rain. Rain always stirred walkers up, maybe it was all the movement or their natural inability to navigate water. But this down pour would bring many of them out into the street he was certain. And he honestly didn’t care. He flicked away the butt of that cigarette and shoved another between his lips and inhaling. His bright blue eyes were hooded and he had bags beneath his eyes, undoubtedly a result of his careless lifestyle now. An external manifestation of the demon he was quickly becoming inside. A soft garbled call of a walker drew his head around to see the beast dragging one leg as it limped toward him. He turned back to where he had been watching the rain fall, knowing he had time before it reached him. It took forever for clothing to dry without the modern conveniences they had all been accustomed to. And hanging something out was hardly compatible with their nomadic lifestyle. So he waited for the walker, for the rain to stop, and for the memories in his head to stop making his chest ache.