Post by Frank Andersen on Oct 6, 2017 0:36:06 GMT -5
Detroit was one big, bleak ghost town. It was quiet, and desolate, though not entirely unattractive. In the years since the old city fell, large swaths of Detroit had been reclaimed by the landscape that had lived here long before humans had claimed it as their own, let alone built roads or houses or plasma TVs. As the two stolen vehicles made their way through the city, Frank watched the overgrown patches of green roll by like giant welcome mats, some large enough to drape over parts of the buildings, roads and even some bridges. A lone dog here or rabbit there darted away from the micro caravan, while several times they had to choose another route due to obstacles in the road - including walkers. Occasionally, one of the kids would point or comment, marveling at the wildlife or grumbling about the undead, but Frank was hardly listening.
He couldn’t stop thinking about Easton. He couldn’t clear away the image of that beautiful man being dragged down and bitten right in front of him. And then Frank’s odd instinct to immediately put a bullet in his head. Blood spurting. And then there was Matt. That man standing behind him, so casually slitting his throat. Matt had been with him since the beginning, and longer. The surprise and pain in Matt’s eyes in his last seconds were almost too much for Frank to bear. They were both haunting images, and ones Frank knew he would not soon forget.
Who was that man that killed Matt? Who were any of those people? Delilah’s Family was scattering to the winds, while Omega’s army and that pack of Fools killed one another all over what? A prison? Well, they could have it. They could all go fu—
“Uncle Frank?” Heather said beside him, her own eyes locked on the road ahead. Heather was driving, Frank was riding shotgun - though failing miserably at the roll of navigator. Luckily Kili was driving the other car and leading them. One of the boys in the back was leaning forward - it was Billy - and Frank could smell the sweat and blood and what was probably a little piss all drying on his clothes and in his hair. Frank gave the boy a gentle push back, and Billy sat back, whispering with Rick and Cho.
Ahead was a strange sight. There was a bus in the middle of the road. That alone was not strange, just one of those lame city tour buses. But, this one apparently had a pirate theme. It was decked out with wood paneling and fake canons poking out of shoddily painted portholes. A cheesy sign near the back christened it the “Black Beard’s Bus-caneers”.
There was just enough room to get around the bus, but Frank realized why they had slowed down, and why Heather had called for his attention.
There was life on ye olde bus. There was a white flag strapped to the mast and two young girls were waving their arms to get their attention. So far, there were only a couple walkers shuffling aimlessly into the side of the bus, but their cars would attract more.
Instinctively, Frank warned the others, but mostly talking to himself, “Could be a trap...”
He couldn’t stop thinking about Easton. He couldn’t clear away the image of that beautiful man being dragged down and bitten right in front of him. And then Frank’s odd instinct to immediately put a bullet in his head. Blood spurting. And then there was Matt. That man standing behind him, so casually slitting his throat. Matt had been with him since the beginning, and longer. The surprise and pain in Matt’s eyes in his last seconds were almost too much for Frank to bear. They were both haunting images, and ones Frank knew he would not soon forget.
Who was that man that killed Matt? Who were any of those people? Delilah’s Family was scattering to the winds, while Omega’s army and that pack of Fools killed one another all over what? A prison? Well, they could have it. They could all go fu—
“Uncle Frank?” Heather said beside him, her own eyes locked on the road ahead. Heather was driving, Frank was riding shotgun - though failing miserably at the roll of navigator. Luckily Kili was driving the other car and leading them. One of the boys in the back was leaning forward - it was Billy - and Frank could smell the sweat and blood and what was probably a little piss all drying on his clothes and in his hair. Frank gave the boy a gentle push back, and Billy sat back, whispering with Rick and Cho.
Ahead was a strange sight. There was a bus in the middle of the road. That alone was not strange, just one of those lame city tour buses. But, this one apparently had a pirate theme. It was decked out with wood paneling and fake canons poking out of shoddily painted portholes. A cheesy sign near the back christened it the “Black Beard’s Bus-caneers”.
There was just enough room to get around the bus, but Frank realized why they had slowed down, and why Heather had called for his attention.
There was life on ye olde bus. There was a white flag strapped to the mast and two young girls were waving their arms to get their attention. So far, there were only a couple walkers shuffling aimlessly into the side of the bus, but their cars would attract more.
Instinctively, Frank warned the others, but mostly talking to himself, “Could be a trap...”