Post by Riley Creed on Jan 23, 2018 13:42:57 GMT -5
Cold rain pelted Riley's back as she bolted down the street. The hungry growls from the throng of walkers at her heels echoed around her, mingling with the thunder and lightning overhead to form a frightening crescendo. Her legs felt like gelatin and her heart pounded in her chest, and still she ran. The breath that she gasped into her aching lungs burned almost as much as her sleep-deprived eyes, and still she ran. She had to. She had no other choice. Eric, her lone companion in all of this mess since Jason had died, had joined his brother in his place in the afterlife. Riley was alone now for the first time since the start, and surviving on her own had proven difficult. Scavenging for food and water was harder, so even though she no longer had to share, her yield was always smaller. Finding a place to sleep was difficult, and even if she did manage to stumble upon one, there was no one to watch her back as she rested. And to that end, the few hours that she managed to steal here and there for sleep were hardly restful. To fight anyone, human or otherwise, seemed to be an impossible feat on her own. Perhaps she could handle one walker on her own, but once they multiplied--and they always multiplied--she found herself on the run. She didn't even want to think about what it would be like if she encountered a human.
Riley rushed around a corner, and she slipped on the wet canvas of street. She gasped as she skidded onto her front, scraping the palm of her hand on the concrete, but she didn't have much time to stay down. Although, as of late, she really wanted to. She found herself thinking about what it would be like to just let the world take her, to let the monsters feast on her flesh and bone. Sure, it would hurt at first, but then there would be no pain. Hell, she could make it painless if she did it herself. And yet every time she thought about it, every time that she let herself linger on the ground when she fell stagnant on her front, she always found herself thinking of Jason. Of Eric. And then she became so frightened by her own musings that she locked them away. Or at least she did until the next lonely, rainy, hopeless night.
Riley pushed herself to her feet, the knees of her jeans dirty and drenched from landing in a puddle, and kept running. She didn't have much to her name, just a pistol in the back of her pants and a knife in a holster at her thigh. Most of her weapons had been lost along the way, both with Eric and without him. She barely had anything left now and found herself hanging on by a thread at almost all times. How she had made it this far on her own was unknown to her. She had never been to California except for this time with Eric, and she had no idea of the layout or where to get supplies. She wanted to go back home to Washington. There were bad memories there, but there were bad memories here, too. At least there, she knew where she was going.
If she even survived this night. Riley's eyes were beginning to sting even more as she rushed down the street, and she could still hear the snarling of walkers behind her. She took a sharp left at the next fork in the road and found herself at a locked gate. Behind it was a community of townhomes, though it looked eerie in the storm. But with the walkers following her down the path, beggars couldn't be choosers. She tried to climb the bars, but the rain made her slip and slide. She managed to finally scale to the top, but a walker closed in on her and snatched her leg. She screamed and tried to rip away, and only succeeded because she fell off of the top of the gate and onto the hard ground on the other side. She wheezed as her body met the concrete, and as the air was stolen from her lungs, the arm from the walker that had grabbed her tore away from the torso and followed her down. She shielded her face, blood and guts drenching her, and the remaining monsters reached through the bars to try and grab her. She rolled away, and once she was out of their reach, she lay on her back in the puddles and stared up at the sky. She was safe for a moment, but just a moment, and before she could help herself, she burst into a panicked fit of tears. On her back in the water, she let her head roll to the side and wept, curling into a ball and holding herself.
"Eric...Jason..." She wailed, but she only allowed herself a few moments of sobbing before she swallowed it and rubbed at her eyes. Her survival instinct kicked back in after a moment's reprieve, and she realized that this place might not be any safer. She pushed to her feet, temporarily saved from the walkers rattling the gates, and unsheathed her knife. She walked down the desolate streets, her terrified eyes darting around for signs of life, welcome and unwelcome, and when she saw a shadow limping at the end of the street, her heart pounded in her chest and she rushed to the first home that she could find. She tried the door handle, but found it locked. Quiet except for the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears, she crept from townhome to townhome, trying the handles. All of them were locked, except for the handle that she tried far down the street. But she didn't want to walk into a home that could be infested, and although it was a risk to alert the walker at the end of the street, she banged on the door twice to attract anything that might be inside.
The moments that she waited for a response felt like eons. The walker at the end of the street, a woman with a twisted ankle, snapped her head to look at her and erupted in a snarl. As she limped down the street, Riley trembled worse than the leaves in the storm, but finally, there was no response from any life inside of the house. Riley rushed inside as the woman got closer, and she slammed the door shut and locked it behind her. She did a quick scan of the home, and when she didn't find anyone downstairs, she clutched her chest and panted for air. But the walker woman banged against the door and snarled for a feast, and the sound of it made Riley jolt almost out of her skin. Frightened, she scoured the downstairs of the house and found a dining room chair. She used it to block the door handle, and for extra protection, she pushed the couch from the living room in front of the door. It took a long while doing all of that work by herself, but once the door was barricaded, she felt a lot better about the woman trying to break in.
But she would feel a hell of a lot better upstairs and away from the point of entry. Riley trekked upstairs, using a flashlight to find her way, though she cursed as the rain damage made the light flicker down the hallway. Riley knocked on the walls with her knuckle as she went, listening for any danger, and was relieved to find none. She approached a closed door, and when she opened it, she found it to be a bedroom.
She also found a man, unexpected, sitting on the bed. He had his eyes lowered, staring at a pistol in his trembling hands, and when he looked up in shock, Riley was surprised to find that he was a boy around her age. She was also so surprised to see another human, however, that she panicked and drew her own pistol. She pressed her back against the door frame in a panic and pointed it at him, her hands trembling. "I don't want any trouble! Don't shoot!"
But as she stared down the barrel at him, it became quickly apparent that he didn't want any trouble, either. He didn't attempt to raise his gun, let alone point it at her, and as he watched her, he didn't show any signs of defense. In fact, it almost seemed like he was welcoming her to shoot. With the threat neutralized, she calmed down and lowered her gun slightly. Maybe this man wasn't a bandit. And if that was the case, maybe this was his home, and that made her the intruder. Riley lowered the gun to point at the ground, but she kept it tight in her trembling hands just in case. Even then, she still looked frightening. She was drenched, and her clothes were soiled with blood. She shook from the cold and from the fear, and it was clear that she was on her last legs as she watched him.
"I-I'm sorry. I just need a place to rest." She gulped and watched him, her eyes wide and panicked. The ball was in his court. Riley just hoped that he wanted to play nice. "There's one of them out there. Please don't make me leave."
Riley rushed around a corner, and she slipped on the wet canvas of street. She gasped as she skidded onto her front, scraping the palm of her hand on the concrete, but she didn't have much time to stay down. Although, as of late, she really wanted to. She found herself thinking about what it would be like to just let the world take her, to let the monsters feast on her flesh and bone. Sure, it would hurt at first, but then there would be no pain. Hell, she could make it painless if she did it herself. And yet every time she thought about it, every time that she let herself linger on the ground when she fell stagnant on her front, she always found herself thinking of Jason. Of Eric. And then she became so frightened by her own musings that she locked them away. Or at least she did until the next lonely, rainy, hopeless night.
Riley pushed herself to her feet, the knees of her jeans dirty and drenched from landing in a puddle, and kept running. She didn't have much to her name, just a pistol in the back of her pants and a knife in a holster at her thigh. Most of her weapons had been lost along the way, both with Eric and without him. She barely had anything left now and found herself hanging on by a thread at almost all times. How she had made it this far on her own was unknown to her. She had never been to California except for this time with Eric, and she had no idea of the layout or where to get supplies. She wanted to go back home to Washington. There were bad memories there, but there were bad memories here, too. At least there, she knew where she was going.
If she even survived this night. Riley's eyes were beginning to sting even more as she rushed down the street, and she could still hear the snarling of walkers behind her. She took a sharp left at the next fork in the road and found herself at a locked gate. Behind it was a community of townhomes, though it looked eerie in the storm. But with the walkers following her down the path, beggars couldn't be choosers. She tried to climb the bars, but the rain made her slip and slide. She managed to finally scale to the top, but a walker closed in on her and snatched her leg. She screamed and tried to rip away, and only succeeded because she fell off of the top of the gate and onto the hard ground on the other side. She wheezed as her body met the concrete, and as the air was stolen from her lungs, the arm from the walker that had grabbed her tore away from the torso and followed her down. She shielded her face, blood and guts drenching her, and the remaining monsters reached through the bars to try and grab her. She rolled away, and once she was out of their reach, she lay on her back in the puddles and stared up at the sky. She was safe for a moment, but just a moment, and before she could help herself, she burst into a panicked fit of tears. On her back in the water, she let her head roll to the side and wept, curling into a ball and holding herself.
"Eric...Jason..." She wailed, but she only allowed herself a few moments of sobbing before she swallowed it and rubbed at her eyes. Her survival instinct kicked back in after a moment's reprieve, and she realized that this place might not be any safer. She pushed to her feet, temporarily saved from the walkers rattling the gates, and unsheathed her knife. She walked down the desolate streets, her terrified eyes darting around for signs of life, welcome and unwelcome, and when she saw a shadow limping at the end of the street, her heart pounded in her chest and she rushed to the first home that she could find. She tried the door handle, but found it locked. Quiet except for the sound of her own heart pounding in her ears, she crept from townhome to townhome, trying the handles. All of them were locked, except for the handle that she tried far down the street. But she didn't want to walk into a home that could be infested, and although it was a risk to alert the walker at the end of the street, she banged on the door twice to attract anything that might be inside.
The moments that she waited for a response felt like eons. The walker at the end of the street, a woman with a twisted ankle, snapped her head to look at her and erupted in a snarl. As she limped down the street, Riley trembled worse than the leaves in the storm, but finally, there was no response from any life inside of the house. Riley rushed inside as the woman got closer, and she slammed the door shut and locked it behind her. She did a quick scan of the home, and when she didn't find anyone downstairs, she clutched her chest and panted for air. But the walker woman banged against the door and snarled for a feast, and the sound of it made Riley jolt almost out of her skin. Frightened, she scoured the downstairs of the house and found a dining room chair. She used it to block the door handle, and for extra protection, she pushed the couch from the living room in front of the door. It took a long while doing all of that work by herself, but once the door was barricaded, she felt a lot better about the woman trying to break in.
But she would feel a hell of a lot better upstairs and away from the point of entry. Riley trekked upstairs, using a flashlight to find her way, though she cursed as the rain damage made the light flicker down the hallway. Riley knocked on the walls with her knuckle as she went, listening for any danger, and was relieved to find none. She approached a closed door, and when she opened it, she found it to be a bedroom.
She also found a man, unexpected, sitting on the bed. He had his eyes lowered, staring at a pistol in his trembling hands, and when he looked up in shock, Riley was surprised to find that he was a boy around her age. She was also so surprised to see another human, however, that she panicked and drew her own pistol. She pressed her back against the door frame in a panic and pointed it at him, her hands trembling. "I don't want any trouble! Don't shoot!"
But as she stared down the barrel at him, it became quickly apparent that he didn't want any trouble, either. He didn't attempt to raise his gun, let alone point it at her, and as he watched her, he didn't show any signs of defense. In fact, it almost seemed like he was welcoming her to shoot. With the threat neutralized, she calmed down and lowered her gun slightly. Maybe this man wasn't a bandit. And if that was the case, maybe this was his home, and that made her the intruder. Riley lowered the gun to point at the ground, but she kept it tight in her trembling hands just in case. Even then, she still looked frightening. She was drenched, and her clothes were soiled with blood. She shook from the cold and from the fear, and it was clear that she was on her last legs as she watched him.
"I-I'm sorry. I just need a place to rest." She gulped and watched him, her eyes wide and panicked. The ball was in his court. Riley just hoped that he wanted to play nice. "There's one of them out there. Please don't make me leave."